Subira is a well meaning film about a black Muslim girl from a small coastal town that is sold off into marriage to an Indian man in the city. However unfortunately it’s let down by a desire to create a happy ending at all costs.

Subira is her fathers favorite child. He takes her out to sea with him and lets her play with her friends in the street. In contrast, her mother wants her to stay in the house and stay away from boys to prepare her for a good marriage. So it’s no surprise that when her father dies in a freak accident, she’s married off quickly to a rich Indian man from Nairobi.

Life in Nairobi is completely different to her life living along the coast. Nairobi is a suffocating urban environment, which the director emphasizes through the high rise buildings, cafes full of people, and private rooms. In her husband’s home she’s also expected to cook, sew, and take care of the house overseen by her husband’s uncle. Her new strict uncle-in-law and the unfamiliar environment work together to build her longing for her dead father and her past freedoms at home. Forbidden to leave the house without permission, she starts to covertly attend swimming classes in the city to get closer to her sea-faring father.

When she’s found taking swimming lessons behind her husband’s back, Subira escapes the wrath of her uncle and husband by running back to her home by the sea. Her escape is her liberation. At home she can be who she wants without having to fulfill her husband or uncle’s expectations. Ending the film with her escape would have been a victory for an independent woman fighting against a fiercely patriarchal society.

Instead, the film keeps going, intent on securing a ‘happy ending’ between Subira and her husband. The problem is, the director doesn’t give the audience any reason to expect the husband will change. When Subira leaves, he screens all of her calls, and doesn’t try to do anything to win her back. He expects her to return, after all he is the man who picked her out of poverty to share his wealth. Ultimately, Subira is the one leading the attempts to get back together, which I felt undermined her choice to run away and liberate herself. It’s a well-meaning happy ending, but it would have been more powerful if she had chosen her own independence.

Gonarezhou: The Movie is a rags to riches crime story of one man rising from poverty into one of the most wanted poachers in Zimbabwe. It’s a valiant effort on a small budget (approximately $12,000) but is let down by clichés and unconvincing characters.

The film starts with an impressive panoramic shot of a group of soldiers aiming their assault rifles at a man running across the dried banks of a river with a wall of red cliffs on the other side of the river. In the next scene, the same man is strapped up to an IV in a hospital bed. His nurse turns off the radio when the host starts talking about illegal poaching – obviously a sore subject – but the man asks her to put it back on. As soon as the radio host asks for people to share their opinions about the poaching business, our bed-bound man calls in and offers to tell his story. But the radio host is having none of it, telling him to talk to his producers or write a letter… that is until the man reveals that he is Zulu.

From this point the film flashes back to tell Zulu’s story from living in poverty to becoming one of the country’s leading poachers. It’s a story with a lot of unfortunate clichés: Zulu’s mum dies leaving him alone, he’s a struggling artist that gives up on his dreams, a chance meeting sets him up with a crime lord who offers to save him from the gutter, and he falls in love with a prostitute. Ultimately, Zulu joins the group of poachers because he wants to get to know the attractive prostitute he meets and slowly works himself up to being one of the country’s most wanted men.

However, Zulu’s rise to becoming one of the country’s most wanted men never feels convincing. Zulu is obviously not a criminal by nature as he appears meek and timid, mostly preferring to look at the ground rather than the eyes of whoever is talking to him. It feels more like Zulu walks into poaching because he doesn’t know what else to do. He doesn’t appear to be in it for the money as he never flaunts or talks about his new found wealth. It’s also hard to believe he poaches for the prostitute as he never looks excited, anxious, or sad when he is with or without her. Because he still looks poor, doesn’t hold any power, and doesn’t have any motivation it’s hard to understand why he poaches and why he’s seen as so dangerous.

The film could have done with a bit more build up. There aren’t any signs of a police investigation for Zulu or his colleagues and therefore it doesn’t feel like there’s any threat of Zulu being caught. In the end, the police stumble onto his tracks by chance and a cheap twist is used to try and create a tension which hasn’t been built up beforehand. If there had been signs of an investigation and signs that Zulu was a wanted man, it might have raised the stakes for the finale.

Gonarezhou: The Movie deserves credit for making a movie about illegal poaching and human trafficking: two topics that rarely make the big screen. However, unfortunately the film feels a bit flat because the stakes never feel high enough to keep you on the edge of your seats for the film. Partly because we already know half the ending from the opening (he lives), but more so because Zulu is never seen as a wanted man until the finale, leaving no time to build up tension.


Head to our Pan African Film Festival Hub for more reviews from PAFF 2020.

Kijiji Changu focuses on the relationship between two very different best friends Makame and Saidi. Saidi is a young playboy. He doesn’t have a steady job but is quick to give away what he has to get any of the local women in his bed. In contrast, Makame has already grown up. He fishes to earn money for his family and is already married and trying to conceive a child. The only strife in his life is that his mum and wife Maryam don’t get along, because his wife hasn’t given her a grandchild. However, when Maryam sleeps with Makame’s best friend Saidi in a desperate attempt to conceive, she becomes pregnant. But, whilst it saves her marriage and pleases her mother in law, it proves to have disastrous consequences.

From the sound of it, Kijiji Changu should have a lot of drama. There’s adultery, promiscuity, and rivalries between a wife and her mother in law and two best friends. However, Kijiji Changu fails to translate any of this drama to the screen due to a lack of narrative focus and a repetitive soundtrack.

Firstly, the story is unfocused. The film begins by setting up the brotherly relationship between Makame and Saidi. In some scenes they’re best friends and others worst enemies, but it kind of makes sense, as after all, they are very different characters. The plot slowly moves on with Makame and Saidi being friends, then not talking, friends, then not talking, even after Saidi sleeps with Maryam. The adulterous act is a prime opportunity to spark some fire into their love triangle relationship, but instead of developing the drama, the film loses focus. Instead of wondering how his wife had got pregnant when he hasn’t been with her in the whole film, Makame blindly celebrates the news that Maryam is pregnant. The film then fades out and returns to the village 9 months later in which the focus of the film switches to a story about HIV. In doing so, the character rivalries the initial hour built up are pushed to the side.

Secondly, the repetitive soundtrack messes with the emotional tone of the film by playing the same song to very different visual scenes. For example, the same song is played when Saidi seduces a woman as when the mother in law scratches her tongue at Maryam, and when one man enters the hospital. Each of these three scenes should elicit a different emotional response from the audience, but because the same musical piece backs each of them, the tone is muted. Soundtracks usually guide our emotional response by matching the same music to scenes which share similar emotions visually. However, in this case, the soundtrack doesn’t always match the visual emotions which confuses how we are meant to perceive the film.


Head to our Pan African Film Festival Hub for more reviews from PAFF 2020.

Ekoua is an ambitious animated dystopian film from Cote d’Ivoire featuring a Hero’s Journey story which unfortunately loses itself in exposition.

Visually, the 3D animation looks like it’s still in the development stage. Many animated objects are incomplete or forgotten about, such as a waiter carrying a tray with her arms by her side. More objects unnaturally cross spatial boundaries, such as a the baby’s legs blending into the crib it’s lying in when they move.

There’s also an unnecessary amount of shots in which characters are traveling from A to B either by walking or in cars. These shots are usually lengthened either side of the shot to show characters frozen still before and after they’ve started traveling. It adds time to a film which doesn’t need it. It reminded me of watching someone play a long game of Sims.

You could fault the criticisms above on a lack of funding or animated capabilities. Animated African films are rare compared to the number of animated films produced in North America and Asia. Ekoua is an ambitious attempt at creating a new dystopian world through animation. However, even with the limited animation capabilities, a complex storyline makes Ekoua hard to love.

At the start of the film, Ekoua sets itself up as a potential satire by introducing a dystopian world ruled by scammers. However, the scammer dystopia set up in the opening is never explained. The only scammers we see are two brightly dressed men that make it rain in clubs, and suspiciously keep following Ekoua for no apparent reason. Instead of exploring the scammer dystopia, Ekoua alters direction to follow a narrative of Ekoua becoming a ‘seer’ and eliminating an evil baby.

From there the film felt like a slow crazy dream. Here’s an outline of a portion of the plot I understood:

  1. Ekoua becomes a seer thanks to an elder.
  2. She has a vision that informs her that her neighbors newborn baby is an evil spirit reincarnated and that she must eliminate it to avoid repeating the same mistakes her mum made.
  3. Scammers chase Ekoua and beat her up.
  4. Ekoua takes the evil baby.
  5. Royal police show up and guide Ekoua to the capital with the evil baby.
  6. A band of mutated hyenas led by a mutant elephant named Koffi stop them and steal the baby.
  7. Ekoua tracks the band of mutants to their hideout and recovers the baby.
  8. Ekoua and the royal policeman move on to the capital.

Then the plot gets confusing.

Overall, Ekoua could do with a bit more simplicity. The story has a lot of different strands (scammer world, Ekoua’s mum, visions, hero’s journey) that make it hard to follow. With a more focused script and more budget to improve the animation, Ekoua would instantly improve.

The debut feature from Gibrey Allen, Right Near the Beach, was one of our favorite films at the Pan African Film Festival 2020 in Los Angeles. It builds on the themes of grief and homophobia in Allen’s 2011 short film Excuses for Jeff with a unique visual style and soundscape which makes you feel like you’re in the film, right next to the characters.

So we’re excited to present a brief interview with Gibrey Allen himself. Scroll down for the interview, and be sure to follow Gibrey Allen on Instagram (@DearMayFilms) for updates on Right Near the Beach‘s release. You can read our review of Gibrey’s debut feature here.


First of all, what inspired you to become a filmmaker? 

Before I started making films I was acting. I was always interested in film-making but the drive to create better roles than what I was been offered was the impetus. 

I found that in my first project Excuses for Jeff. The end to end creative process was a both a great challenge and joy. Living every aspect of the film-making process gave me a greater purpose than playing a character. Creating and having control of how story is told, particularly stories about the black experience, is important. Stories that celebrate or show true conflict, or stories that aren’t trivial, are important to me. That is my film-making mission. 

What drew you to the story of Jeff and homophobia in Jamaica?

Homophobia in Jamaica unfortunately is a very real and prominent thing. The music can sometimes inform this, as well as religion, laws and politics which in turn normalizes homophobic thinking. It makes you forget what every human being wants; love and acceptance. Migrating from Jamaica to New York, where sexuality is varied and open, made me see the LGBTQ community not for their sexual interactions but for the people they are. With the story of Jeff I wanted to tell a very human story, not the usual approach I have seen in films and  documentaries. To tell and move a story with cinema; the music, the sound, and visuals is what I love about film-making. I didn’t want to lecture with this film, I wanted to appeal to the heart.

How was filming in Jamaica?

Filming overall was a good experience. Most of the issues stemmed from a budgetary stand point; a smaller crew and not being able to get all the locations we’d hope for. Early on we figured we’d embrace these things, looking at what we did have and use that to make an even more intimate story. 

Did having Excuses for Jeff help in the production of Right Near the Beach?

Yes. Knowing the area and landscape helped. Forehand knowledge of some of the challenges and logistics, such transportation and accommodations. It also helped with the writing process because I knew which characters to tell the story best through. 

How did you develop your process for your first feature film versus making you short films?

The feature was the same approach as the shorts. Not necessarily by design but because the feature was shot in three different trips over a year and a half. The scope of things didn’t become so grandiose and production didn’t become a huge moving thing. 

What informed your visual style and soundscape for Right Near the Beach?

I want a voyeuristic view into the life of Mr. Jacob, the father. Almost like you’re eavesdropping on something you’re not supposed to see, someone in deep pain and mourning.  The movement of the camera to react violently when he’s angry, the movement slowing down in the quiet and pensive moments. Terrence Malick’s visual language was a great reference and also Lance Hammer’s Ballast.

We embraced the nature sounds; the flora and fauna that are natural to the farm and rural setting. Quiet moments were also very important so you had time to feel and get pulled into the journey. For the Mike character we used more post-production sounds, sounds that call back to his past and childhood. More mechanical sounds which underscore the demons he’s living with.  

What challenges did you face in building the style into the film?

The main challenge that we found was that we didn’t have lots of coverage on shots. With the one-take approach that we primarily used we had to shoot until we got the take that worked. This was also magnified because the cast were all local players. There’s a bit of safety in having full coverage, you can cut away to another angle or to other subjects if something doesn’t work with a particular take.

Do you feel like you made the film you set out to make, or did your vision for the film change in the film-making process?

Yes, the overall idea and feel of the story came through. However, the film process was very fluid and organic. We had to embrace everything that came along. Weather for example was a big one. It’s a tropical climate so it would rain or get overcast. Rather than waiting for these things to pass we used them to heighten moments in the film. 

How is your release going so far?

No release yet as the hope is to build an audience and buzz through festivals before we take that step. 

Where can readers catch the film next?

Not sure yet as COVID-19 has affected the festival run. Follow @DearMayFilms on Instagram for updates.

Do you have any projects in the works?

Yes, currently in pre-production on the next feature, also set in Jamaica. Can’t give much details yet but I can say it’s going be in the western style. 

What films, books, music, art can we look up to get to know you better?

Films: The cinematic language I like are that of Terence Malick, Lars Von Trier, Steven McQueen (Please watch Hunger), Thomas Vinterberg. Pretty much anything that Roger Deakins and Emmanuel Lubezki photographs.

Music: Tons of Reggae; Beres Hammond, Peter Tosh, Bob Marley, Ken Booth, Toots and the Maytals. Blues, Folk music and anything that promotes me keeping my beard.


Gibrey Allen

Follow Gibrey Allen @DearMayFilms on Instagram for updates on where to watch Right Near the Beach. You can read our full review of Right Near the Beach here.