She Paradise

Right from the beginning, you can tell that 17 year old Sparkle is lonely. Much like Amy, the lead in Maimouna Doucore’s Cuties, she’s stuck doing house chores for her grandparents. It doesn’t look like she has any friends at school or at work, and she doesn’t talk much. So when she meets a group of older girls dancing in the street, she finds the confidence and expressiveness in them that she wants to have. So she works her way into their clique and transforms from the children’s clothes wearing, shy 17 year old kid from the introduction into a vividly dressed, confident dancer.

Her gateway is Trini culture. In particular Soca music: a mix of calypso, reggae, dancehall unique to Trinidad which permeates She Paradise. Soca is present in the dancing and style, which combines with the music to give Sparkle a brand new modern key to her independence. Embracing the contemporary Trini culture through Soca opens up a new world that is totally unique to her world at home with her grandfather. It’s modern and fresh, instead of from the past. It allows her to forget about her childhood and home poverty, and have an opportunity to become a free independent woman.

She Paradise is a feature length version of the brilliant short film that debuted last year at a few festivals that we reviewed here. Like the short, the feature version has many of the same scenes, which are mostly included in the first part of the film. The feature also contains a few hints at Sparkle’s background, but it’s still not clear what she does before she meets the Soca crew. However, unlike the short, this feature film adds in a few male characters which take the focus away from the female friendship of the short. Instead, the focus switches more to Sparkle and how she navigates a world of patriarchy – represented by her father and Skinny, the male Soca artist. It’s a shame as the friendship between Sparkle and Mica was the highlight of the short.


Head to our AFI Fest Hub for more reviews and short films from AFI Fest 2020.

New Order starts with a chaotic montage of images. There’s a modern art painting, a naked lady covered in green paint, and plenty of lifeless bodies. Each image flashes up on screen for half a second as bold orchestral music plays in the background. It’s a disorientating and sensationalist start which gives us a sign of the chaos to come.

The film relaxes for 15 minutes after the opening as we enter the safety bubble of an upper class wedding in Mexico City. There’s a lot of mingling and small talk. It’s a world which feels a lot like the exclusive Mexico City world shown in The Good Girls. Everyone is focused on their business and completely oblivious to the lives of the public outside of their social sphere.

However, some ominous signs start to appear that connect to the chaotic opening montage which the film uses to build unease. The tap water starts running green; the judge for the wedding is late; and one guest appears with a green splodge on her shirt. Meanwhile the bride disappears to help out one of their former maids. The outside world is getting closer to their upper class bubble.

It’s not long before the bubble bursts and some outsiders splattered in green climb over the walls surrounding their property, symbolic of the wealth divide. At this point everything suddenly goes mad as the security guards turn on the wealthy family and start raiding the house for valuables alongside the home invaders. It’s not particularly clear who the invaders are, but from who they’re targeting it seems like it’s an anti-rich uprising. From this point on the film descends into nihilistic chaos that reminded me of Todd Phillips Joker. It’s not really clear what the nihilism is supposed to represent besides a vague: rich are bad, and the poor victimized and it’s never really clear why everything is happening. As a result, the second half comes across as a bit sensationalist and provocative and without too much depth to back up the action.

If you’d like to see some Mexican political movies with a bit more depth check out the satirical critique of Mexican politics in Luis Estrada’s The Perfect Dictatorship, and the horrifyingly real nihilism in Amat Escalante’s Heli. There’s also Children of Men and Sons of Denmark if you want to watch some more chaotic near future dystopian movies.


Head to our AFI Fest Hub for more reviews and short films from AFI Fest 2020.

Cargo

Cargo Film Difficulty Ranking: 2

In Kareem Mortimer’s Cargo a faltering fisherman turns to crime to pay for his mounting debt. This thriller presents a very different view of the Bahamas than the clear oceans the tourist board presents but is slowed down by a number of characters and clichéd subplots. However, if you’re a fan of slow thrillers or want to see the dark side of the Caribbean, this is worth a watch.

From: The Bahamas, North America
Watch: Trailer, Tubi, IMDb
Next: Sin Nombre, Maria Full of Grace, The Load

Cargo – The Breakdown

When you think of The Bahamas, you think of pristine beaches and crystal clear sea. It’s what the tourist board promotes to potential visitors year round. The picturesque islands are also what we’ve seen in films shot in The Bahamas such as the James Bond franchise. However, whilst the beaches are visible in Kareem Mortimer’s Cargo, the film focuses on the daily strife the locals and immigrants face. There’s no sign of tourists or an easy life.

It follows Kevin, a fisherman living in the city with his wife and aging mother. He’s had a privileged upbringing at a private boarding school, so he pays for his son to have the same privilege. However, the fees of the school, alongside the need to bring in support at home to take care of his mother dealing with dementia, pushes him into an insurmountable mountain of debt. Instead of pulling his son out of private school (and kicking his gambling habit), he assumes a life of crime to get his way out. Problem is, as per other ‘resorting to crime’ film plots, Kevin gets sucked in by the money, becomes a different person and gets a few more problems to add to those he started with. In this case it’s new girlfriends and dependents.

One thing that stands out with Kevin is that he’s white in a country that is 90% Black. Alongside the other white characters in this film – the School Bursar, Banker, and opportunistic Crime Lord – Kevin appears to live a privileged life. He has a nice house, sends his kid to private school, and has a car. In contrast, the main Black characters live in makeshift houses, struggle to get their kids an education, and use public transport. Even though his fishing isn’t bringing in enough money to pay his bills, he still finds himself in a better position than the Black characters of the movie. His failures are a sign of the total lack of opportunity in The Bahamas as it shows that both the privileged and unprivileged are struggling to get by.

Whilst Cargo highlights the inequality and lack of opportunity in The Bahamas well, Kevin’s slow spiral from friendly fisherman to “the devil” features too many subplots and characters. The three women in his life each come with their own story, slowing down the pace of the movie when it could do with a bit more energy. The clichéd conclusions of one of them feels like the over dramatic teen-orientated PSA’s that encourage you to not do drugs. The human-trafficking parts of the film are gripping, but are unfortunately never the film’s focus. This is all about Kevin and his ever increasing subplots.

What to Watch Next

Whilst Cargo focuses on the trafficker, there are a lot of great movies that focus on the people being trafficked. Some notable examples are:

  • Sin Nombre – that takes place on the infamous “la Bestia” train
  • Maria Full of Grace – follows a Colombian girl used as a drug mule
  • Flee – tracks the memories of an Afghan fleeing to Europe

You could also try The Load from Serbia, which follows a Serbian truck driver delivering secret cargo to Belgrade from Kosovo.

Bantu Mama

In Bantu Mama, a French-Cameroonian woman is arrested in the Dominican Republic for attempting to smuggle drugs back home. However, she’s rescued by the Dominican underworld, sheltering in one of Santo Domingo’s notorious neighborhoods with a semi-orphaned family until she can make her escape.

It’s clear from the start that Bantu Mama is meant to appeal to the audiences at Western film festivals. Like European film festival fare, the images look dark and gloomy, and they carry the bulk of the narrative weight, with the sparse dialogue only covering the basic gaps the images can’t provide. There’s also a lot of movement in every shot, with no tripod or steadicam shots, and the short shot length and fast cutting verges on the speed of montage, especially in the opening. All these stylistic choices match the lean, moody looking standard of the big film festivals in Europe and North America, contrasting with the slower paced, dialogue focused African films that dominate the Pan African Film Festival in Los Angeles.

This is not to say that Bantu Mama is unoriginal; it is. Firstly, it’s incredibly efficient, telling a complete story with limited dialogue in just 77 minutes. Secondly, it’s propelled by a brilliant soundtrack of regional African music and Dominican trap. Both genres mesh together to represent the cultural dialogue with Africa that Emma, the French-Cameroonian fugitive, opens to the Afro-Latino children that shelter her. The soundtrack also creates one of the film’s most memorable moments – a visual example of this cultural link – in which Cuki is transformed into a Maasai dancer with the help of African music and Emma. In this moment, the music transports them from their dangerous neighborhood to an imagined Pan-African utopia. This is just one moment in a handful in which the soundtrack and Emma link the Dominican Republic with Africa. The cultural dialogue they create make Bantu Mama unique.

If you’re a fan of film festivals in North America or Europe and want to see a lean, music-powered cultural exchange linking the underworld of the Dominican Republic to Africa, Bantu Mama is the film you need to watch.


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

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.