Where I Come From

11 year old Mambi relies on her luck at gambling to pay off her father’s debts and save money for education in Where I Come From. However, as her father’s own gambling addiction gets worse, Mambi sacrifices her own dreams to protect her father.

The first thing I learned from watching Mambi was that English is spoken in Cameroon. All of the previous films I’ve seen from Cameroon were in French so I ignorantly assumed the whole country spoke French. The reality is that whilst around 80% of the country’s population are in French speaking regions, the 20% in the North, along the Nigerian border, speak English. The English speaking region has recently become a hotbed for film production, earning it the nickname ‘Collywood’ to differentiate itself from Nigeria’s neighboring Nollywood. Three of the industry’s films have even been bought up by Netflix: the award winning The Fisherman’s Diary, A Man for the Weekend, and Broken. Where I Come From might be hoping to join them soon.

Unfortunately the plot feels a bit too similar to a host of other African films that focus on poverty and promote education and stable family life such as Hand of Fate, Jebel Nyoka, and Shaina. Even though their situations all seem impossibly bleak, education is presented as a panacea for everything. It almost comes across as a government PSA because it feels so unrealistic given the protagonists’ circumstances. The promotion of gambling (and luck) as a solution also felt a bit off. Whenever Mambi gambles, inspirational, uplifting music starts as if it’s encouraging her to gamble. Promoting education and the luck of gambling in the same movie doesn’t match up.

Despite the cookie-cutter plot, Where I Come From is at least memorable for it’s brilliant lead performance from 11 year old Faith Fidel. She deservedly was nominated for Most Promising Actor at the African Movie Academy Awards last year and should be an actor to look out for in the future. It’s also worth noting that 95% of the film’s crew were under 30, so look out for more from Takong Delvis and his team in future.


Check back to our Pan African Film Festival 2022 page for more reviews coming out of the 30th edition of the festival.

Softie

Boniface “Softie” Mwangi was drawn to political activism during his time photographing the post election violence in 2007. Now, he’s running for office in a regional Kenyan election. To succeed, he has to radically change a democracy tainted by corruption, violence, and mistrust. This documentary follows his journey as he campaigns to reform Kenyan politics whilst struggling to hold his family together.

Unlike other political documentaries like Knock Down the House and The Great Hack where Western viewers might have a bit of familiarity with the focus (the Democratic “Blue Wave” of the 2018 House elections and the Cambridge Analytica controversy respectively), Softie’s story is unknown. Western media rarely covers the political protests and uprisings in Africa – especially sub-Saharan Africa where pro-U.S. dictators reside. Therefore, Softie has to do a bit more than these other films to get you up to speed with Kenyan politics. Luckily Boniface’s life is a kind of awakening to the national political situation, so this is covered within his story – his life as a photographer led him to political activism, and his political activism led him to run in the elections. The filmmakers concisely fill in the gaps – British colonialism creating a nation governed by tribalism – to flesh out a more complete picture.

The majority of Softie takes place during his campaign for office. It documents a lot of the day to day tasks of campaigning much like Kazuhiro Soda’s Campaign – from handing out flyers and greeting locals to securing funds to keep it going. However it’s not quite as focused on just the campaign, as we also follow Boniface’s wife (Njeri) and children on a personal level as they bounce between Kenya and the U.S. to escape death threats. It feels like we have almost unrestricted access to both Boniface and Njeri’s personal lives. Boniface first tells Njeri of his goal to run for office on camera (her reaction gives that away) and we’re often closer to Njeri and their children in the U.S. than Boniface is in Kenya making it feel like we know their emotions better than their other halves. It almost feels like we’re the relationship mediator between them at times. This personal, emotional layer emphasizes the challenges of trying to build a family whilst focused on your career, allowing us to empathize with them much more.

The other negative plus that Softie has on the U.S. political documentaries is that the political situation in Kenya is more immediately dangerous than those in Knock Down the House and The Great Hack. Boniface’s life always feels in danger of being extinguished by his political rivals, as journalists and people linked to the voting systems are murdered whilst his story is told. The higher stakes make this film more urgent and tense. It sometimes feels like we’re watching a hagiography of someone that will be martyred.

If you’re looking for an observational documentary that follows a political activist trying to change a corrupt system by running for government and the effects this has on their family, Softie is the film for you.


Check back to our Pan African Film Festival 2021 page for more reviews coming out of the 29th edition of the festival.

The largest Black film festival in the United States has officially started. So get your ‘PAFF-port’ ready because the Pan African Film Festival is set to take you around the world without jumping on a plane. With a record breaking 225 Black films representing 52 countries in 26 different languages, PAFF is the largest Black film festival in the United States.

I’ll be trying to catch as many of the African films as I can to review for the site, so be sure to keep checking back here to get the lowdown. As with SBIFF, I’ll also aim to write up a recap of everything at the end to let you know what you missed out on.

Zepon

Viezo and his daughter Victorine have spent happy years on the road, taking their prime fighting cocks and snake oil wares around the island. However, with the best chicken he’s ever had, Viezo wants to try his luck in the big ring one more time, reigniting past rivalries and old problems.

You shouldn’t be surprised to find a well-made film from Martinique. After all, one of the World’s most famous female directors, Euzhan Palcy, made her renowned Sugar Cane Alley on her home island. Whilst Zepon doesn’t follow the same post-colonial themes of Palcy’s most notable films, it is at least very well made, likely helped by the path that Palcy created. If you have a good eye you might even recognize actress Jocelyne Beroard (who plays Titine) from Euzah Palcy’s Siméon.

The plot, whilst colored by Martinican flavor, does stick to one of the classic tropes of World Cinema; the clash of modernity and tradition. Not, in this case, a juxtaposition of the modernity of the city vs. the country the two protagonists have been touring, but of the modern progressive symbolism of Victorine vs. the conservative traditional views of the island. As an independent young single woman, Victorine is progressive in her existence. She runs her own snake-oil style stall to fund her dreams of dancing abroad in America. Meanwhile, her father, and the rest of the island, are all stuck in an old honor code dictated by drunken handshake deals that play out in the cockfighting ring. The battle between Victorine and the island culture is unique to Martinique, but the modernity vs. tradition trope the conflict follows has played out many times before.

The highlight of the film is the cockfighting, which is portrayed brilliantly. From the intimate stands of the cockfighting ring to how the director chose to shoot the cockfight itself. For both fights, the director deliberately cuts away from the fight itself. Instead of showing the chickens fighting, the director firstly cuts to an impressionistic animation that captures the energy of the chickens in the first fight, and secondly, cuts to shots of enthusiastic spectators cheering for their bets. Both create two of the film’s most memorable visual moments and manage to capture the energy of the fighters and the crowd without showing any real violence.

For a well made film from Martinique that gives a sample of Martinican culture Zepon is worth a watch. Whilst it falls into some tired World Cinema tropes, there are some brilliant moments in the film that is supported by a light humor that carries it from start to finish.


Check back to our Pan African Film Festival 2022 page for more reviews coming out of the 30th edition of the festival.

Stateless

In 2013, the Dominican Republic’s Supreme Court stripped the citizenship of anyone with Haitian parents, retroactive to 1929. The ruling rendered more than 200,000 people stateless, without nationality, identity or a homeland. Stateless follows Rosa Iris, an attorney with family who have been exiled by the country’s recent laws, as she mounts a grassroots electoral campaign to advocate for social justice. But it also follows her antithesis, Gladys Felix, an outspoken supporter of the nationalist movement, fighting for for stricter immigration control.

Like Softie, Stateless is an observational documentary that captures an activist from outside of the system fighting against corruption. Through Rosa’s story we’re exposed to the emotional trauma of the country’s recent anti-immigration policies. Simply put, they’re racist, and this is obvious right from the opening scene in which Rosa is representing a client in a government office. Her client is applying for an updated citizenship card but is being denied by the officer because “he doesn’t speak clear Spanish”. This is not an isolated incident. Rosa’s activism is also justified by her personal stakes. She has the same Haitian lineage as the people she’s representing that the country is persecuting. So she runs for government to represent people like her exiled because of their race.

However, unlike Softie, which focuses solely on Boniface’s family life and his campaign for government, Stateless also documents the other side of the fight against racism by following Gladys Felix, a member of the country’s anti-immigrant nationalist movement. We follow her as she spews racist rhetoric about the nature of Haitian immigrants and gaslights the experiences of Haitians she meets at a government built camp for sugar cane workers near the border. Whilst it feels odd to have their stories running alongside each other, it makes Stateless stand out. It allows us to see how present the threat is – not just to Rosa and her cousin Teofilo, but to all Haitian immigrants and Black Dominicans. Gladys adds a face (and very present reality) to the sometimes invisible state sanctioned racism of the Dominican Republic. She gives the audience something visual to root against.

If you’re looking for a documentary that examines racism in the Dominican Republic’s past and present through two women campaigning at either end of the political spectrum, this is the film you’re looking for.


Check our Pan African Film Festival 2021 page for more reviews coming out of the 29th edition of the festival.