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.

AFI Fest continues to shine as one of the premiere film festivals in Los Angeles. The programmers do a great job of curating the best films from the 2024 festival circuit whilst introducing international films from first-time filmmakers that run along side the big red carpet premieres. The 2024 edition was no different. Outside of the camera grabbing U.S. features, there was a litany of international gems. Find a recap of our favorites below.


Our Top Three from AFI Fest 2024

Sujo

1. Sujo (Mexico)

Sujo starts with narco-violence in remote Michoacan, so I was expecting this to become the latest pessimistic and bleak narco-flick that festivals have been gobbling up over the last ten years. However, this film explores an alternative narrative, in which Sujo (the son of a hit-man) is carefully guided away from his father’s fate despite all the temptations. His journey is posed as an allegory for the history of modern Mexico, in a similar way to Innaritu’s Bardo from 2023. It presents a hopeful future, despite a traumatic recent history and the plans of fate, with the help of dreams and magic.


La Cocina

2. La Cocina (Mexico/U.S.)

La Cocina is brimming with energy. It’s present in the editing, the acting, and the dialogue and makes the film captivating despite the small set. The lead dominates the camera with the control of his body, expressions, and voice to create a character you cannot look away from. Everything is captured brilliantly in this one-set recreation of a stage play. The only thing holding it back from being one of the greats is that it feels limited by the restrictions of the stage. It doesn’t quite feel like it has truly transferred from the stage to the cinematic medium (similar to the limited space in Birdman and Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom). Despite this, La Cocina is still one of the year’s most engrossing dramas.

3. No Other Land (Palestine/Israel)

Israel’s encroachments on Palestinian territory date back to the country’s formation. However, the encroachment is typically overshadowed by developments in the conflict in the international news. No Other Land intimately documents Basel Adra’s lifelong protest against Israeli settler encroachment. In the film, Basel is joined by a sympathetic Israeli that helps to publicize their struggle. The footage places you within their struggle, which is at times shocking and appears increasingly hopeless. However, Basel’s calm words encouraging patience for activists worldwide is the message everyone should take away from this enlightening documentary.


Honorable Mentions

Santosh (India)

Santosh is a gripping thriller that follows the plight of a police widower that takes her dead husbands job to stay afloat and gets caught in a web of sexism and classism. She battles with the prejudices of others as well as her own, as she seeks to re-right the wrongs done to her.

Second Chance (India)

A wonderfully low-key fish-out-of-water story featuring a city girl living in a home-stay in the Indian Himalayas. The humble way of life in the mountains helps to ground her after a tumultuous break-up so she can re-find herself before she returns to reality.

Viet and Nam (Vietnam)

The slowest film I watched at this years AFI Fest, Viet and Nam features a few narrative segments that each touch on the hopelessness of life in contemporary Vietnam. Whilst the message is bleak, the pictures are gorgeous, especially the dark shots deep in the mines which merge the underground with the celestial.

Thank You for Banking with Us! (Palestine)

This Palestinian family drama features a housewife that is pushed into a new lease of life with the help of her sister following the unexpected death of her father. Politics are in the background as the film centers on the awakening of an ordinary housewife overwhelmed by the expectations of her role as a woman and mother.


Another year, another great slate of films from AFI Fest. We strongly encourage everyone to check out next years edition. Please find previous coverage of AFI Fest here.

Shaina

Shaina (Shine) is a teenager who has a knack for making something out of nothing and could have a promising future as an engineer, except for the fact that she doesn’t believe in herself. When she and her best friends are faced with a host of grown-up problems – loss of loved ones, unpaid exam fees and the curse of “blessers” – they come close to giving up. Their story is one of forgiveness and friendship, of creating a new family from the people who love you, and of the very real girl power.

Once you see Shaina you’ll realize that this blurb is sugar coated. Her “grown-up problems” are a list of the very worst things that could happen to a kid: losing your only guardian, being unable to afford education, and stalkers that groom you. Based on what happens, this could be one of the most depressing films of recent times, in the same field as Capernaum, but it chooses not to be. Despite the awful conditions, Shaina is filled with vibrant colors, positive music, and dancing. It’s unrealistic hopefulness is present from the opening scene in which Shine digs for scraps in the local junkyard whilst uplifting music plays in the background. Even though it feels overly optimistic considering the circumstances, the hopeful portrayal of Shine and her friends is needed to prevent this from becoming poverty porn.

However, the credibility of the film isn’t helped by the clichéd characters. One friend resorts to prostitution to help get by, another friend is pregnant, and there’s a dodgy crime lord. It’s also not helped by what feels like an overwritten script which verbalized everything in the dialogue, leaving little to be said by the images.

Another thing that felt too obvious was the film’s love for capitalism. It’s presented as the obvious answer to Shine’s problems despite all the awful things that she has to deal with. It conveys that it’s no big deal that she has to raise money to pay for her school exams now that her family has died and people have stolen what was left for her education, because she can just become an ‘entrepreneur’ and make enough money by selling eggs after school. The movie chooses to use Shine’s inventiveness as a wonderful way out of poverty instead of examining why she has to make money to pay for her education after she’s left an orphan in the first place. Perhaps this isn’t surprising given that this is a film made with U.S. Aid. However, the focus on the American dream just feels like a hopeful distraction from Shine’s reality.


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

Alcarras

The Sole family have farmed fields in the small municipality of Alcarras in Catalonia for generations. However, the wealthy landowner that owns the property has found more profitable ways to use his land, which doesn’t involve farming or what the Sole family wants. He’s looking to destroy the orchards that provide the Sole family’s livelihood to install more profitable solar panels.

What Alcarras does brilliantly is tell a very specific local story in order to highlight how capitalism is affecting not just the Sole family, but the local community and many other people around the globe. It’s set completely in one small municipality in Spain centered one family, all played by non-actors from similar backgrounds to the family on screen, living on one farm. Through the film’s run-time, we get to intimately know each member of the Sole family to understand their life on the farm as well as how they are each affected by the threatening eviction. We see why they love the freedom and independence of farming their own land as well as how they’re pulled apart by an uncertain future. Whilst a multi-family or multi-country film might fail to generate sympathy for it’s characters because of it’s broad scope, Alcarras, in spending time with one family in one region, gives the audience more time and closeness to sympathize with not just them, but everyone affected by capitalism around the world.

The hidden message in Alcarras is that the Sole family’s experience is not isolated to Alcarras, nor Spain. The few short scenes showing the community’s labor strikes, which Quimet and his son join, show that the Sole family’s experiences are not isolated. The priority of progress and profit over personal and community happiness is destroying families across the world.


Head to our AFI Fest 2022 Hub for more reviews from AFI Fest 2022.

Delphine’s Prayer

Delphine’s Prayers features a young Cameroonian woman baring her traumatic life story for the camera. In a personal one-on-one interview she recounts the death of her mother, her rape at 13, and her subsequent abandonment by her father which led her too an early life of prostitution to support herself and her daughter. She ended up marrying an old Belgian man that brought her to Europe. She came with some hope of a better life, but that has since dissipated, leaving her in poverty again.

The whole film is shot in one room in Belgium with each of the ~10 segments centering Delphine in the middle of the frame. She’s the only character on camera in this documentary until the very last scene. She’s also the only one who speaks, discounting a few prompts from the director to guide her life stories. Without any other characters, and no cuts away from Delphine, the film’s focus is completely on Delphine, leaving no room for the viewer to get distracted from her storytelling. It makes the documentary feel much more intimate – especially as Delphine is incredibly open throughout the film – but also sometimes a bit intrusive as it feels like her traumatic life story is being exploited to represent a bigger message.

The bigger message is to present Delphine’s traumatic life as one example of a generation of young African women that have been crushed by patriarchal societies at home and abroad. This message is brought together at the end of the film in a short scene in which the director talks over a visual of Delphine braiding her hair, speaking of their friendship in Europe. Because of their different backgrounds, they wouldn’t have crossed paths at home in Cameroon. However, in Europe, they’re both just seen as Black African women – reminders of Belgium’s colonial past.

Whilst it does feel a bit exploitative at times, delving into a wide range of stories from Delphine’s traumatic life, Delphine’s Prayers does give a voice to one Black African woman in Europe to represent a part of the African immigrant experience in Europe.