A Taste of Our Land is the first narrative feature I’ve seen that speaks to the rising Chinese influence in African countries. It’s inspired by the director’s experience working in a Chinese mine in Rwanda, where he saw a colleague beaten so badly he was hospitalized. His crime? To ask for his pay.

A Taste of Our Land features a similarly brutal Chinese-run mine in Uganda. It’s operated by a Chinese convict named Cheng that brutally beats his employees for any acts of dissent. He works for a Chinese company that don’t appear in the film. We only hear them on the other end of Cheng’s phone, emphasizing their disregard for Africa and it’s people. They’re extracting Africa’s wealth from abroad with the help of a criminal. It paints a surprisingly blunt picture of the exploitative motivations of China in Africa

The victim of this film is an older African man called Yohani who struggles to provide for his pregnant wife. He tries to get compensation for the Chinese mine which was built on his land without permission. However, because the local authorities he appeals to have already been paid off, there’s nothing he can do. The African authorities have sold him out for temporary wealth.

When Yohani discovers a nugget of gold on his land, he becomes an obvious allegory of the world’s exploitation of Africa. Three protagonists are after his new found wealth, and each one of them representatives a different world power.

  1. The first is the China, represented in the Chinese mine built on Yohani’s land without his permission. It reaps the fruit of the land without sharing it with the African people. They’re the new colonizers.
  2. The second is Britain, represented in a British immigrant named Donald that walks around wearing a colonial era helmet. The British used to hold power over Africa, but their power has waned in the last 50 years or so, represented by Donald’s asthma inhaler. Donald can’t even tell China what to do, as shown by his inability to convince Cheng to look for gold. However, his colonial era hat symbolizes that Britain still tries to cling onto its’ former power and still exploits the continent.
  3. The third is the Catholic church, represented in a European priest that Yohani looks to for protection. Instead of sheltering Yohani, the priest tries to steal his gold; they’re just another institution that exploits the African people.

Credit is due to the filmmakers for avoiding the conventional African film tropes of war, HIV, and witchcraft to focus on the growing Chinese influence in Africa. It’s rare to see an African film implicating other national powers and religious institutions so blatantly in its demise. However, A Taste of Our Land’s bad acting makes the allegories a bit too obvious. It highlights the heavy handedness of the script and lack of production quality of the film (it’s made on a spartan $12,000 budget). As a result, what could be a subtle implication of religious and national powers in Africa’s exploitation comparable to Andrey Zvyagintsev’s Leviathan, ends up feeling a bit stereotypically comical.


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The Restoration features Tato, a useless 50 year old cocaine addict that has moved back into his mothers home following his latest divorce. In a moment of misguided ingenuity he decides to sell his bedridden mother’s house (one of the last old houses in Lima) behind her back. To fool her, he recreates her bedroom in a shed in the desert.

In it’s best moments, The Restoration contains a tragic satire of the rapid modernisation of Lima. It’s self aware and able to play comedy off a dark(ish) subject matter with ease, much like Luis Estrada’s El Infierno (which manages to get away with poking fun at the narco-state of Mexico).

However, unfortunately this commentary becomes obscured as the movie chooses to focus on carrying out the ‘magic trick’ of switching Tato’s mum from her old bedroom into a makeshift one without her noticing. It turns the movie from a promising social satire into a relationship comedy of the dying mum and her useless cocaine-addicted son. After beginning the film with a brief commentary on the consequences of Lima’s modernization, the cheap laughs and attempted tugging on heart strings are the easy way to end the film.

Ultimately The Restoration is ends as a somewhat funny Latin film in the realm of the Eugenio Derbez film universe. There’s stereotyped characters, quick laughs, and melodramatic cheesiness. If that sounds like your thing, this film might just be for you.

Mosh is an aspiring dancer living in the hood in the Dominican Republic. She lives with her mother who is dying from cancer and her cousin Geronimo, who gets by dealing drugs.

Not sure what to make of it. Mosh starts of as if it’s going to be a musical but then changes direction into a hood film after the opening. It features some of the typical hood film tropes: a kid trying to make it out of the hood, a raw undiscovered talent, relative stuck in a gang. But it also features a few scenes of a tall lady playing God, who’s followed around by a man dressed as a pineapple.

God and her pineapple friend appear to characters to talk about death and nostalgia for a life lived. She helps each of the characters become more comfortable with the idea of death. However, whilst the talks are interesting, they never really fit within the main(?) narrative of the film – that of Mosh and her family (question mark as maybe Mosh isn’t the focus?). The discussions are also pretty long and slow which disrupts the flow of the film further. (Even the characters annoyingly start to interrupt themselves as the discussions about mortality and life starts drifting without focus).

I really wanted to like Mosh, but I could never understand what kind of a film it was trying to be. It has too many moving parts. Instead of focusing on one narrative, it tries to follow many (Mosh, her brother, her mother, the drug boss).

There’s also a lot of unanswered questions. Why does Mosh so vehemently correct anyone who calls her Maria? What is this happiness drug? Why does God keep appearing? Why does she have a side kick dressed as a pineapple? We’re also never clear on why Mosh loves dancing and why she is going to all these dance classes and auditions – is she auditioning for a role? Does she want to make it her career? Is it her way of escaping her reality? It’s never really clear. We just have to assume or accept a lot of things that we are shown.

As a result, we’re never really sure what the film is. The convoluted narrative, varied pace, and unanswered questions make it hard to immerse yourself in the film. We never feel like we know Mosh, but we’re also never sure if this film is actually about her, her brother, the hood, or God.

In By A Sharp Knife, Ludovit finds out that his son has just been murdered by a group of neo-Nazis on the night of his graduation. Despite clear video evidence of the murder, the killers are let free. Ludovit leads a fight for justice whilst carrying his own feelings of guilt at pushing his son away.

It’s a bleak film which deals with grief and a corrupt judiciary department. However, unfortunately it feels limp. It’s an investigative, fight for justice thriller without the actual investigation. There’s no investigation into the murderers – why they killed David, who’s supporting them and why, and how they’re managing to influence justice. As a result, the court room scenes are lifeless as it just ends up in one person’s word versus another. Meanwhile the music and appearance of the gang boss adds drama which feels artificial.

Furthermore, the characters are left incomplete. Firstly, there’s the relationship between Ludovit and his wife. They don’t speak much about the death and there’s no exploration of their grief or any strains on their relationship. Which is why their sudden split and later reunion feels too underdeveloped – there’s no foundations for either.

Secondly, there are too many characters which are only present for one or two scenes. They appear and disappear in crucial plot developments in the legal procedure at the police station and court room. Because we only see them for a few minutes at most, we never know who they are, what their role is, and why they’ve been included in the film. They only manage to muddy the progression of the investigation and film.

Lastly, there are an unnecessary amount of images of the Most SNP bridge in Bratislava. One or two shots of it are enough to situate the film in the city – if viewers don’t recognize it by then, they probably won’t by the tenth time.

The inspiration of By A Sharp Knife is shocking. However, the following investigation never really feels threatening enough or real enough to turn the film into a memorable thriller. The underdeveloped characters and relationships and overproduced court room finale make the film feel limp.

Chronology

A day after Hakan finds out his wife Nihal cannot conceive, she disappears. The last time he saw her was entering an apartment with a man he doesn’t recognize. In his attempts to find her, he brazenly follows the clues to discover things about his wife that he struggles to come to terms with. In order to find her, he has to dispel his idea of a happy marriage.

The film spends a lot of time building up ambiguous clues, which puts more pressure on a grand reveal to deliver the resolution. Unfortunately it builds expectations so high that when the reveal strikes, it isn’t overly surprising or well thought out. The reveal contradicts a lot of what has been done and said from the first half so it has to revisit every part of it to show you how it matches. The reveal does answer some of the questions from the first half but does leave a lot unanswered, as the second half effectively completely rewrites the first act of the film in a quarter of the time. As a result, it feels rushed and almost unbelievable.

That being said, the film deserves credit for portraying domestic violence. It first portrays a violent but innocent man that we can sympathize with and then a man capable of domestic violence. What is clear is that these two perspectives of the same man are indeed the same man. Just as domestic violence perpetrators are ‘normal’ humans by appearance, but violent husbands at home. If only the rest of the script could have held together through the two parts.