Here’s a quick round up of three shorts from SBIFF.

1. Tribes – SBIFF Shorts

Tribes is a short film in which an African-American man, an Arab-American man, and a white man rob a subway car in New York. Problem is, they don’t want to rob people from their own race.

It’s a funny concept, but the tone is diluted. Tribes starts off seriously before breaking into a funny argument between two of the robbers. However, their hold of their hostages and the credibility of the film quickly dissipates when the passengers start adding to the robbers debate. It feels like they’re interrupting the film by adding unnecessary quips.

The rest of the credibility is seriously lost when one of the robbers starts siding with the hostages and starts a long monologue. Monologues can work, however, unfortunately this one is backed by a crescendo of uplifting music that wouldn’t feel out of place in a Pepsi commercial. It just makes it feel fake. It’s a good message but it feels way too preachy and fake like the ‘I voted for Obama’ dad in Get Out.

That being said, I believe this script is perfect for the stage. The setting, monologues, and arguments would fit it perfectly. Plus it would feel much more authentic without the music.

2. Kopitiam – SBIFF Shorts

Kopitiam

Kopitiam is a short documentary about a coffee shop owner in NYC and her experience living as a Malaysian in the U.S. 

It’s interesting to hear about how we live through food. The coffee shop owner raises some interesting points about how everyone has a cooking blueprint which allows cooks to live on after their death. Also how food and how you cook it is one way of passing down your culture – but you have to accept that your work will be adapted

However, I wish Kopitiam focused on one thing. You hear fragments about her shop, her dad, her partner, growing up, cooking, maintaining culture, but they’re only communicated in short sentences. It doesn’t give her enough time to truly share her life and experience. Because it’s quick, we don’t get enough time to identify with her and walk in her shoes.

3. Mochitsuki – SBIFF Shorts

Mochitsuki

Mochitsuki features a Japanese American family in California getting together for New Years to partake in Mochitsuki – an annual gathering to make mochi. Like Kopitiam it features an Asian American family using cooking and food as a way to pass on heritage, legacy, and maintain their link to Japanese culture.

However, in contrast to Kopitiam, Mochitsuki passes on tradition through their own family gathering, rather than by sharing it with anyone interested. It shows the eldest generation of the one family partaking in the ritual with the newest generation of the family – old and young working together to show the direct transmission of culture from generation to generation. It’s a testament to the strength of Japanese culture in this family that has survived through the adversity of internment. Maybe that shared hardship has created a stronger culture.

Mochitsuki is engaging because it focuses on one thing (the mochi making ceremony) and uses it to tell a brief story about this Japanese American family instead of trying to cover lots of different stories.

No Bears

Despite a 20 year ban on making or directing movies imposed on him in 2010, Jafar Panahi continues to make films. No Bears is the fifth feature film Panahi has made since the ban, and is probably his most political. The not one, but two films in No Bears are an attack on the hypocrisies of censorship and freedom of movement.

Now that Panahi has proved the house arrest and ban on film-making cannot stop him from making films, he’s been encouraged to make something even more inflammatory – an almost direct critique of the government and of laws against the freedom of movement. In No Bears, Panahi deliberately flaunts all of the rules that have been imposed on him. Firstly, he’s directing one film, and starring in another, breaking his filmmaking ban once again. Secondly, he shows he can make films from wherever he wants – he’s relaxing in a rural village near the border and directing his film crew in another country, as well as making a film in the village where he is staying. Thirdly, he’s creating new filmmakers – both in his cameraman shooting his film in Turkey and in the people he hands off his camera to in the village. Lastly, he also shows he can go wherever he wants. He goes right up to the Turkish border as if it’s nothing. All of these things deliberately flaunt his power in spite of the government’s restrictions on him. He proves that they’ll never silence him from making films, whether that’s in Iran or outside it, with him behind the camera or having inspired someone else.

On top of this, Panahi also sets up two films within No Bears to criticize the government and the culture is has fostered. One is a film within a film, following the story of a couple in Turkey that have finally found fake passports on the black market to leave the country. This narrative highlights the discrimination in freedom of movement – granted to certain people because of birth lottery, and hidden from others. The other follows Panahi himself, as he works on this film from a rural Iranian village along the Turkish border. The longer he stays, the more entangled he becomes in the backward customs of the town. This narrative serves as an analogy for the hypocrisies of the Iranian government and censorship committees. Just as they imposed filmmaking bans on him instead of looking to solve the problems he highlights in his films, the villagers choose to make him a scapegoat for their own feuds.

For a film that holds no punches in attacking censorship and freedom of movement, Panahi’s latest is a joy to watch. It’s filled with a dry humor that pokes fun of the establishment whilst retaining a serious message. Just as much as this, No Bears is also a testament to the filmmaking drive of Jafar Panahi. No matter how many restrictions are imposed against him, he’s continued to make films and inspire others. We hope he, and the Iranian filmmakers imprisoned with him earlier this year will be released and the filmmaking bans rescinded.


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

Tug of War

In colonial Zanzibar, a young revolutionary and runaway wife from different parts of the city meet. As their romance grows, so does their revolutionary fervor in this adaptation of Shafi Adam Shafi’s novel.

It’s rare that you see Tanzanian films on the international film festival circuit, especially those that are directed by Tanzanians. The industry in the East African country is dominated by Swahiliwood’s low budget, rapidly made ‘Bongo films,’ which, like the majority of African cinema industries are largely ignored by Western film festivals. So it’s nice to see a Tanzanian representative on the international film festival circuit in Tug of War, even if it isn’t your typical Tanzanian film. Unlike ‘Bongo films,’ Tug of War‘s production quality matches the criteria for Western film festivals, with beautiful cinematography inspired by Wong Kar Wai, good production design, and great acting. It perfectly fits the Western expectations of ‘good’ international cinema.

The warmly patient pace of Tug of War defines the films tone, characters, and relationships. It’s created through the slow motion shots and orange tinted film that the director, Amil Shivji, uses throughout the film, just as Wong Kar Wai did in In the Mood for Love. The slow motion highlights some of the defining moments in the character’s relationships. This is clearest in the shot of Denge and Yasmin’s first glance of each other. Stretching out this fleeting glance captures the longing in that brief look, symbolically starting the embers that starts their romance. These slow motion moments also signify their enlightenment. One shot shows Yasmin pushing against the flow of a moving crowd. At regular speed, the shot might be forgettable, but in slow motion it becomes symbolic of her going against the grain of her family’s expectations and grabbing her own independence. Lastly the slow motion also emphasizes the link between their budding romance and new-found independence with the anti-colonial revolution that stands against both. This is captured in the slow motion scene of red pamphlets falling between them like wedding confetti (as in the image above).

For a beautifully shot, anti-colonial Tanzanian film inspired by Wong Kar Wai’s In the Mood for Love, watch Tug of War. It features sumptuously warm cinematography, a slow burning romance, and a fight for independence. This interracial, extra-marital love is anti-colonial. Viva la revolución.


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

AFI Fest brought some of the most highly anticipated international films to Hollywood from the 2025 film festival circuit for a long-weekend celebration of film. AFI Fest gives locals a chance to see a experience a wide range of global stories and film critics a chance to catch up on films from Sundance, Berlin, Venice, and Cannes ahead of any general releases. We broadened our viewing habits this time to include a mix of short films – see our short film recap linked here – to look out for some up-and-coming filmmakers. Our feature film recap below spanned 3 continents – highlighting some stand-out films from Colombia, Armenia, and Spain!


Our Top Three from AFI Fest 2025

A Poet

1. A Poet (Colombia)

Imagine a tragicomic white-savior movie with the energy of Uncut Gems and you’ll find yourself close to A Poet. Oscar Restrepo, a proud poet fails to recapture his former success in the empty bottles that leave him shouting drunken verses at transients in the middle of the night. To try and reconnect with his teenage daughter, he turns to teaching, and finds an unpolished gem in one of his students to live his dreams through. However, not everyone understands his intentions. Class and race collide in this roller-coaster tragicomedy powered by an anxious, always moving camera, sudden cuts, and Oscar’s winning smile.


2. My Armenian Phantoms (Armenia)

When I think of compilation films, I think of Los Angeles Plays Itself, and the diary films of Jonas Mekas. The first uses archival clips from a wide range of films set in Los Angeles to show how the city has changed alongside Hollywood, whilst Jonas Mekas uses raw personal footage to document his experiences in a diary format. My Armenian Phantoms borrows from both of these styles to take you on a journey through Armenian film history – spinning you onto a bunch of Armenian films to watch next – whilst writing a moving love letter to her father and Armenia itself.


Romería

3. Romería (Spain)

Carla Simon is establishing herself as one of the top filmmakers in Spain. This is just her third feature, but watching it feels like she has been making movies for decades. Just like in her Golden Bear winner Alcarràs, Simon creates a incredibly strong sense of setting and fully fleshed characters in such a short time. In Romería, we swing across Spain, displacing the hot summer of Catalonia’s peach harvest for the grey buildings, overcast skies, and frigid Atlantic seas of Vigo. The setting works to hide family secrets as Marina returns to the city in search of her lost past.


Honorable Mentions

We Believe You (Belgium)

Tensions rise and family secrets unravel over the course of a crucial day in a cleverly crafted court-room drama. The director’s choice to shoot this entire film in tightly framed close-ups keeps the full-picture deliberately hidden from us. Just like the civil court judge, we have to make a leap of faith to believe the words of a strained mother fighting for her children.

Young Mothers (Belgium)

Young Mothers is another authentic drama to add to the already impressive filmography of the Dardenne brothers. The film pieces together 5 unique portraits of 5 different girls at a maternal support home near Liège to paint a picture of the social challenges of teenage motherhood.

Kontinental ’25 (Romania)

Radu Jude always has something to say. Whilst Kontinental ’25 may not as politically powerful as his previous films – such as Do Not Expect too Much from the End of the World and I Do Not Care if we Go Down in History as Barbarians – it still contains his very obvious dark humor. It shifts Europe ’51 by laughing at the main character, a bailiff consumed by guilt from an eviction gone wrong, to show the lack of meaningful action taken to reverse the inhumanity of crony capitalism.


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.

Finding Sally

Finding Sally is the story of a 23-year-old woman from an upper-class family who became a communist rebel with the Ethiopian People’s Revolutionary Party. Idealistic and in love, Sally got caught up in her country’s revolutionary fervor and landed on the military government’s most wanted list. She went underground and her family never saw her again. Four decades after Sally’s disappearance, Tamara Dawit pieces together her mysterious life in Finding Sally. She revisits the Ethiopian revolution and the terrible massacre that followed, which resulted in nearly every Ethiopian family losing a loved one. Her quest leads her to question notions of belonging, personal convictions and political ideals at a time when Ethiopia is going through important political changes once again.

Tamara’s family story in Finding Sally is a good one, but doesn’t always come across like it. It could have taken a few more artistic liberties to bring out the story a bit more. One example that dampens the mystery is in a scene where Tamara is interviewing her Aunt in Ethiopia. She asks her why she never knew about the existence of her missing Aunt Sally, and her Aunt answers: “I don’t know, she was in all of the family albums.” Her answer immediately shuts down the mystery the director was creating about her missing Aunt.

It’s also clear that they’re not the typical Ethiopian family. The director’s grandfather was a foreign diplomat that took them round the world with them, so they had certain levels of privilege other Ethiopians wouldn’t. But his importance is never hyped up that much, making their family appear pretty normal versus how they probably were. Their uniqueness could have been emphasized more.

Aunt Sally’s role in the communist movement also feels a little unclear. It doesn’t come across that she was an integral part of the movement as her links to the party appear fairly tenuous in Finding Sally. Perhaps there was just not enough information to tell her story in so much detail. It also feels as if the director is caught between telling multiple stories. She uses the narrative of her missing Aunt as a gateway into contemporary Ethiopian history, but also depicts the story of her family history as she reconnects with her family in Ethiopia. In moments, the stories tie together, but the lack of detail in Sally’s story, never fully brings her to life, leaving her role in the revolution and beyond a bit flat.

If you’re looking for a personal story of a family of a diplomat working in a changing country told through personal one on one interviews and photographs, Finding Sally is worth a watch. However, this might not be what you’re after if you’re looking for a more involved documentary on Ethiopian history or a globe spanning mystery.


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