Film Festival Coverage Hub - Reviews & Recaps

A Guide to the 2020 Pan African Film Festival (PAFF)

As the film industry recovered from the surprises from the Academy Awards and started preparing trips to the European film market in Berlin, I took some time out to cover the 28th edition of the Pan African Film Festival (PAFF). Taking place in Black History Month, PAFF is the largest black film festival in the United States. It’s also one of the largest film festivals in Los Angeles, and it’s situated just under 7 miles south of Hollywood in Baldwin Hills. If you’re looking for a wide range of black films from around the world, this is the festival you need to attend.

Whilst it doesn’t have the star status of Cannes, Venice, or Toronto, the Pan African Film Festival did have an incredibly wide range of African and Afro-Latin films in its 225 film schedule. This is exactly why PAFF had been on my calendar for the last few months. Where else can you see films from so many African and Caribbean countries without hopping on a plane?

Anyway, let’s get into it. You’ve probably read some of the reviews posted on the PAFF page, but what was the festival actually like?

The Audiences

Whilst the audience at SBIFF was old and white, I didn’t notice more than a handful of old white viewers throughout the entire 12 day schedule at PAFF. The audience at PAFF was mostly Black. I guess this isn’t surprising given that this is the largest Black film festival in the United States happening in one of the oldest Black communities in Los Angeles. However, it was disappointing to see a lack of support for Black films from the rest of Los Angeles. Especially as these films are almost always overlooked in favor of big Hollywood releases and European art-house films every year.

It was also nice not being the youngest person in the audience for every screening. The majority of the audience was middle aged, but there were a few young faces in almost all of the screenings; either young kids brought by their parents or college students. That being said, the percentage of viewers under 25 was much lower than what I’ve seen at the BFI London Film Festival. To bring it up again, the BFI’s program for offering discounted tickets to anyone under 25 just before the screenings start, would be a great way to fill empty seats whilst boosting a younger audience.

The City

The Pan African Film Festival takes place in Los Angeles, but, if you’ve visited Los Angeles before, you’ll know that it’s a place made up of many small cities. Instead of spreading out from a center like London, Berlin, and Toronto (other big cities with big film festivals) Los Angeles doesn’t have a definitive center. As a result, there isn’t a focus to the city or a center that you can walk from sight to sight on a sightseeing tour. So whilst the Pan African Film Festival takes place in Los Angeles, it’s more helpful to say that it takes place in Baldwin Hills, a neighborhood in South Los Angeles.

Specifically, PAFF takes place at the Cinemark by the Baldwin Hills Crenshaw Mall. It’s a perfect location for a film festival in Los Angeles because: there’s a lot of free parking, there’s a lot of cheap food options in the mall food court, and it’s easy to drive to (yes Los Angeles is a car city). You can also get there on public transport by taking the train to the Expo/Crenshaw metro stop and walking south along Crenshaw. It’s only a 15 minute walk. Although as mentioned, this is Los Angeles, so you’ll probably be the only person walking.

One of the best things about the mall, besides the cheap food options, is the art festival that takes place as part of the film festival. It features a lot of stalls selling African art, clothes, and beauty products. Perfect if you’re looking for a souvenir.

The Experience

Unlike the mess of lines that plague other film festivals, PAFF was pretty well managed. This was probably because it took place in one of Cinemark’s most popular theaters in the country. It has the capacity to accommodate over 3,000 people in it’s 16-18 screens (where all the screenings took place). Plus, buying tickets was a breeze thanks to the ticket selling screens and many box office assistants. PAFF was convenient and stress free; buying tickets, queuing, and getting to your screening was easy.

The proportion of talent attendance was also probably higher than any other festival I’ve attended. Approximately 50% of the screenings were complemented by Q&A’s featuring key talent from the films. This was an even more impressive figure given that most of these artists had traveled from Africa with their first U.S. visas.

The Films

Last, but not least, how were the movies?

Firstly, the selection at PAFF was impressively diverse even though if focused solely on black films. It featured 225 films from 52 countries in 26 languages. To put that into perspective, the Santa Barbara International Film Festival had films from 50 countries, 2 countries behind PAFF. That being said, the quality of the films was pretty erratic. There were a handful of gems from first time filmmakers (see below) which was a welcome surprise, but also a handful of films that appeared to still be in the developmental stage or stuck in clichés.

The feature Films

As mentioned, the feature film selection at PAFF was very hit or miss, which I guess is to be expected from countries without established film industries. I was lucky enough to see 14 feature films during my time at the festival. Here’s how they stacked up. Click the links to read the full reviews.

The Mercy of the Jungle
Tenere
Right Near the Beach
Verde
Black Mexicans
Kings of Mulberry Street
Redemption
Granma Nineteen and the Soviet’s Secret
Bigman Wahala
Desrances
Subira
Gonarezhou: The Movie
Kijiji Changu
Ekoua

PAFF’s Best: 1

With a great look, an easy to follow but intelligent story, and two great characters, The Mercy of the Jungle was the best film I saw at PAFF. It was a faultless all rounder that I hope gets a U.S. release in the not too distant future.

The Runner Up: 2

In second place was Tenere a feature documentary from a first time filmmaker. The incredible footage of the migrant journey across the desert on a Mad Max-esque truck is what makes this documentary so awesome.

The Art-House Gems: 3-5

Following up the top two, Right Near the Beach, Verde, and Black Mexicans were three great art-house films that should be welcome at film festivals worldwide. I’m particularly excited to see what the debut filmmakers behind the first two do next.

Popular Films Done Well: 6-10

Kings of Mulberry Street and Granma Nineteen and the Soviet’s Secret were two entertaining coming of age stories that all audiences should be able to appreciate. Redemption and Desrances were two thrillers set in bad times – the former an ex-con struggling with a corrupt system and the latter set in a post-revolution post-apocalyptic Cote d’Ivoire. Lastly, Bigman Wahala was the best mainstream comedy that I saw at PAFF, sparked by the rapport between the two main characters.

The Not So Good: 11-14

Subira was the best of the rest, but it was let down by an un-empowering and cheesy story-line. Gonarezhou: The Movie, Ekoua, and Kijiji Changu all suffered from a lack of production quality and the lack of a well thought out script.

The Short Films

In contrast to the feature films at PAFF, the short films from the Pan African and Films in Paradise short series were consistently good. Here’s our rankings for what we saw:

Conclusion

If you live in Los Angeles, you need to add PAFF to your film festival calendar. It’s schedule of African and Black film is unparalleled in the United States. The programmers also obviously made an effort to seek out films from debut filmmakers. Their risks paid off, as there were a bunch of gems that I wouldn’t have had the chance to see otherwise. So put in some effort and come to PAFF in 2021.

Los Conductos – Piece Together Colombian Society – Berlinale 2020

Los Conductos starts off like Robert Bresson’s A Man Escaped. A Dostoyevsky-esque man of the shadows (like the protagonist of Notes from Underground) peers out of the shadows watching the source of some footsteps nearby. He disappears and a gun appears. Shots are fired. The outcast steps out from the darkness and peers into the fresh bullet hole in his target. As the camera zooms closer to the wound, it cuts to a petrol pump being inserted into the petrol tank of a motorbike (a technique most recently used in Uncut Gems). Our shadow dweller, Pinky, reappears, robs the motorbike and escapes. It’s a minimalist opening that uses editing to generate the action and excitement without explicitly showing any violence.

The minimalist thriller opening doesn’t last as this film switches styles throughout. Here’s a quick list of all the different styles I caught in the film:

Music video: Pinky takes drugs and we get a close up of two Pinky heads bopping madly to very loud music. Reminiscent of the music and drug driven scenes in Trainspotting.
Documentary: The scenes in the print shop are static and slow, showing the workers guiding the printing machines without any narrative. Feels like Sergei Lonitza’s Factory, revealing the everyday workings of the factory.
Storytelling: A well-trimmed copy of Pinky tells his double a story about The Fallen Devil, adding mystery to the film like the storytelling of Andrea Bussmann’s Fausto and Mariano Llinas’ Extraordinary Stories.
Sketch Comedy: There’s even a scene in which Pinky and his double appear as clowns in a go-kart patrolling the streets of Bogota.

The stylistic mashup reminded me a bit of Pedro Manrique Figueroa’s collages, explored in Ospina’s A Paper Tiger, which bring together conflicting images to create political statements. In Los Conductos, the mix of styles construct Colombia as a nation built upon a mix of histories. Without a solid past, the country has no solid foundations to move forward from or even exist upon.

It isn’t helped by our single narrator, who we never feel like we can fully trust. He’s a murderer and junkie, plus he also splits into two characters at one point. Hardly elements that build a trustworthy narrator. He even looks like he’s been living in a cave for a few months, with wild unkempt hair and a long beard. But, whilst we can’t fully trust him, he’s a great candidate for narrator on the state of Colombia. Who best to comment on society, then someone who seems to exist outside of it? He’s experienced a lot and followed a range of cults and philosophies. He shows us Medellin from the street: inside the factories and vacant lots; and from above: through many shots of the city lit up from the hills he lives in.

From his perspective, we see the failures of consumer culture and capitalism in Colombia. The warehouses producing fake t-shirts to sell on the black market that Pinky works in, are ironically the only way Pinky can earn an ‘honest’ living. The mountains of garbage become Pinky’s search for treasure, a physical scar on the land courtesy of the endless waste produced by capitalism. Plus, there’s a distinct lack of care for the average worker. Pinky is forced onto the street by the factory and lives an existence as a forgotten man. This Colombia is cold and heartless.

Camilo Restrepo makes sure you feel it too by embodying a physicality into his film. The 16mm film gives the picture a graininess that you believe you could reach out and feel, whilst the close up of hands constructing, drawing, holding objects pulls you closer to the action, making it feel more tangible, like you’re controlling a character in a first person video game. You’re a part of the puzzle of Colombian society, and you, with the help of Pinky are given an opportunity to try and figure it out.

If you want to read more about Los Conductos, I strongly recommend reading Ben Flanagan’s review of the film for Vague Visages.

The Mercy of the Jungle – Pan African Film Festival 2020

The Mercy of the Jungle starts with the same scene it ends with. In it, an armed Sergeant Xavier chases a fleeing rebel across an open field. He appears weary of the endless war but mechanically carries out his duty. Book-ending the film with this same chase scene of Sergeant Xavier in a weary pursuit traps him within the conflict. Every scene he appears in as a Sergeant ready for war. He rarely discloses anything about his dreams or personal life. The war in the heart of the jungle covering Rwanda, Uganda, and the Democratic Republic of the Congo has consumed him, just as the soldiers in Francis Ford Copolla’s Apocalypse Now are gradually consumed by their war. Whilst he can switch uniforms and play both sides of the war, the cyclical nature of the film indicates he can never escape the conflict or the jungle it takes place in.

The suffocating jungle provides the first test for a lost Sergeant Xavier and Private Faustin, as they try to find their troop. It’s overgrown, making it hard for them to see beyond a few meters. Even in the clearings the mist prevents them from seeing much further. Plus there’s the hot humidity that slowly saps the precious moisture from Xavier and Faustin as they try to find the way; a death curse as there are no signs of fresh water. The jungle is their inescapable prison.

The sounds of the fauna at night tell Xavier and Faustin that they’re not welcome in the jungle. We never see what makes the noises, which helps to make us more paranoid of what could be out there. It’s not clear if it’s an animal stalking them, or just animals passing by. Whatever it is, the fear of the unknown only further demonstrates their complete loss of control in the jungle and slow descent into madness. The diegetic sounds are supported by a loud, deep, ominous soundtrack that builds the feeling of hopelessness. The jungle is consuming them.

The inescapable, consuming jungle goes hand in hand with the inescapable, consuming war. Just as Sergeant Xavier is stuck in the jungle surrounded by unknown, unwelcoming sounds, he’s stuck in the war surrounded by unknown, unwelcoming armed groups. The war is faceless. The only thing that separates Sergeant Xavier from the different armies and rebel groups he encounters is his uniform. Otherwise, they speak the same language and look the same. So, to avoid death, Xavier and Faustin carry multiple uniforms so they can change clothes to blend into the areas they trespass. They even make friends with soldiers and communities they originally fought against. However, although they can fluidly switch sides, Sergeant Xavier can never escape the war. The one time he tries to disguise himself as a civilian, he’s attacked because it’s obvious from his ‘Muhammad Ali’ physique that he’s a soldier. Whilst he can switch military uniforms, he can never return to being a regular civilian. He’s condemned to a life of war.

The Mercy of the Jungle depicts the inescapable cycle of war around the Virunga National Park in the heart of Africa. The suffocating, disorientating jungle is reminiscent of the jungles depicted in Apocalypse Now and Aguirre, whilst the inescapable war is reminiscent of those depicted in War Witch and Beasts of No Nation. The Mercy of the Jungle stands up to all four of these films as one of the best jungle war films there is.

Head to our Pan African Film Festival Hub for more reviews and short films from the Pan African Film Festival 2020.

Towards The Battle – Spain/Latin American Competition – SBIFF

In Towards the Battle, Louis, a French photographer, gets lost in French occupied Mexico in the 1860’s. He wants to photograph the French-Mexican War, but gets lost in the Mexican wilderness trying to find it. However, his encounter with Pinto, a Mexican peasant, gives him the companion and support he needs to carry out his quest.

Louis is in Mexico as commissioned by the French army. He holds a permission slip from the French general which acts as his pass to freely travel the region without reprimand from the roaming French army. It’s the only thing that separates Louis from the rabble of the French army. If he loses it, he’d be conscripted into the army, or, if he’s lucky, sent back to France.

Whilst he can escape from the marauding French army, he can’t escape from the Mexican wilderness. As the scenery changes from mountainous scrub-land to deep rain-forest, Louis is (literally) one step away from a premature death. It’s obvious he can’t survive by himself with two horses carrying his huge amount of photography gear. Luckily for him, a Mexican peasant named Pinto finds him when he’s starving and gives him the food he needs to survive.

From that moment on, they become Don Quixote and Sancho Panza-esque partners. Louis is Don Quixote: a leader of a well off background that loses himself in the quest of one of his hobbies. Instead of chivalry, Louis drags a mountain of photographic equipment across the Mexican wilderness in search of a war that doesn’t appear to exist. When Pinto finds him, he’s already gone a bit mad in his quest to capture a photo of the elusive war. Pinto is Louis’ Sancho Panza: a Mexican peasant that knows Louis is mad, and doesn’t understand him (he doesn’t speak French), but happily goes along with Louis’ delusional quest because he’s got nothing better to do. Along the way, he saves Louis a couple of times, and subordinates himself to him to allow Louis to live out his fantasy. The Don Quixote allegory gives Towards the Battle a timeless feel, and gives an extra layer to Louis’ madness and his slow progression to his own awareness which he reaches in the final scenes.

From the scenery to the setting to the characters, Towards the Battle was one of the films that flew under the SBIFF radar. It’s a well made update of Cervantes’ Don Quixote applied to the French occupation of Mexico. It’s used to show the madness of the French in Mexico and the absurdity of the French occupation of Mexico. The French (Louis) and Don Quixote both live a world away from the reality.

Tenere – Pan African Film Festival 2020

Tenere documents the incredible real life Mad Max journey of Nigerien people crossing the Sahara on customized trucks in search of an escape from their poverty. It’s an almost unbelievable journey, and although more people try to cross the desert than the Atlantic to get to Europe, it surprisingly rarely makes the news.

Tenere itself is an observational documentary that follows Bachir on his journey from Agadez to Dirkou in search of work. Bachir is one of the most experienced members of the group, having already made the journey across the Sahara a few times in order to provide for his family. This time, instead of going to Libya, which is no longer a land of opportunity because of the raging civil war, Bachir plans to stop and find work in Dirkou, 584km away from Agadez in the northeastern corner of Niger. However, what might be a days journey by car on normal roads is a perilous 5 day trek across the sands of the Sahara in blistering 45 degree heat (that’s over 110 degrees Fahrenheit). In this part of the world, roads don’t exist, just a lot of sand.

Tenere takes off cinematically when the journey leaves Agadez. There’s a point, roughly 10-15 minutes into their journey that the craziness of it hit me. Agadez is the 5th largest city in Niger, albeit a small one when compared to cities around the world with just over 100,000 inhabitants. It doesn’t look like a city teeming with opportunity when we see it on camera. The dust roads, mud houses, and lack of greenery indicate that human life here isn’t sustainable. However, compared to the desert the migrants travel through, Agadez is an oasis of life. After 10-15 minutes of traveling through the desert, the director starts using drone shots to shoot the truck loaded with goats, people, wares, and water, allowing us to see just how perilous the journey is. We can see that their truck is the only sign of life for miles, an island in a landscape that is purely sand and hot air. They’re truck is the desert equivalent of the Senegalese pirogues aimed towards Europe, completely isolated and just a few punctures away from certain death.

You might be wondering: “well, these people were never going to die because the filmmaker and his crew were there just in case something went wrong”. However, you might not know that this film was all shot by one Turkish man, Hasan Söylemez, with just a few cameras and a convoy of hired soldiers to protect them from desert bandits. There’s not much a camera and soldiers can do to help if your car breaks down when you’re two days drive from civilization and surrounded by sand and a 45 degree heat. It’s exactly at the halfway point of their journey that one man emerges inexplicably from the desert. He has just walked 17km to find help because his truck has broken down whilst carrying 20-25 migrants on its back. They’re all stuck by the car with their water supplies running out. If he didn’t find anyone willing to help, this truck load of people would succumb to the desert, like the many other people buried under car tire tombstones. It’s an unforgiving journey, and death always feels precariously close because of a lack of visible support. There are no signs of backup help, because there isn’t any.

Tenere is almost unbelievable. These guys and their custom stacked truck would fit perfectly into an apocalyptic Mad Max film. But the handheld camera and drone shots make it almost feel like we’re there with them, minus the heat and glaring sun. It’s a brilliant observational documentary that exposes another migration route that rarely makes the news. I watched this film whilst I was halfway through reading ‘The Devil’s Highway’, an account of the Yuma 14 who died crossing the Arizona desert, which made this film even more pertinent. If you’re sitting comfortably in your home in Europe or the U.S. thinking that you deserved the luck to be born there, watch this film and see exactly how people are risking their lives to try and reverse their own fortunes.

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