Redemption starts with Bruno making his way home after being released from prison. He’s welcomed back by his loving wife and newborn, and gets the keys of his mother’s house from his aunt. It also doesn’t take long for him to find a job in a warehouse nearby. With a house, a job, and a wife and baby, Bruno has everything he needs to be happy. However, things change when the ‘bank’ demands Bruno to pay them $30,000 for a loan his dead mother took out or else they’ll take over his house.

The bank/loan shark that demands money from Bruno is the reason why Bruno regresses to his former life of crime. However, even before they ask for the money, there’s signs that Bruno hasn’t given up his former life. The first indication of this is when he returns to his dead mother’s house on his own and immediately locates his old gun and a roll of U.S. dollars. Instead of throwing the gun away, he returns it to it’s hidden spot when his wife arrives. He knows that if she sees them, she’ll tell him to get rid of them or she’ll leave.

It was also hard to ignore the amount of smoking and drinking in this film. Every other minute, Bruno pauses, lights up a cigarette, and seems to use that break to think. Maybe he’s thinking about the money he could make in the crime world, maybe he’s thinking about moving to South Africa as Mia wants, it’s not clear. What is clear however, is that he smokes a lot. It’s an addiction he hasn’t got rid of. At a stretch, his addiction to smoke and drink are two vices that reveal his weakness for good feelings, and hint that he’s not strong enough to resist the golden allure of returning to crime. Towards the end of the film, Mia even starts smoking, as if it’s a sign that she’s addicted to Bruno and can’t leave him. Like Bruno, she has her chance to leave, but she can’t break her ties to the city.

Bruno’s fate is all but confirmed in the scene when he takes on his first crime job since leaving prison. In it, the camera never moves from the front yard of Bruno’s house as he leaves with his former colleagues and steps into their car. When he is in his front yard, there’s nothing between him and the camera. But once he’s outside his yard, we see him enter his crime boss’ car from behind his yard’s wire fence. Seeing him behind fencing makes it look as if he’s just stepped back into prison. It’s a point of no return for Bruno and his chance at redemption.

However, even though we can blame Bruno for resorting to crime to pay his loans, Redemption makes sure you know that there’s a corrupt system behind his eviction. The big crime boss that Bruno works for appears in a scene paying one of the people working for the bank that demands Bruno repay his mother’s loan. Linking the crime boss to the bank lenders assimilates their actions. Both of them ruthlessly demand money from people who can’t afford them and both of them rob people without sympathy. So if the bank lenders can demand a ridiculous amount of money from Bruno that he didn’t borrow, why shouldn’t he criminally demand a ridiculous amount of money from someone else too.


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

Veve Film Difficulty Ranking: 2

Drugs, corruption, and extra-marital affairs feature in this Kenyan thriller centred around a macho politician. If you’re looking for excitement, danger, and a token white guy, this film is for you. Check it out here on Netflix.

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Why Watch Veve?
  • To meet one of Kenya’s ‘Big Men’
  • Learn what Veve is (known elsewhere as Khat)
  • For a token white guy
  • See how to defeat unions and oppress farmers
The Breakdown

People picking trees, leaves filling sacks, sacks thrown onto trucks, money changing hands… Veve starts with some quick cuts showing the distribution of veve from the trees it grows on to Kenya’s cities. Along the way it passes through a bunch of middle men and check points. You’ll also see money changing hands a few times along the way, but who does the money end up with?

The next scene reveals the prime candidate behind the drug-trafficking. Meet Amos, a local member of parliament campaigning to become governor of the region. Judged on first impressions, he’s a friendly husband who is popular in the region he is campaigning to govern. However, there’s more to Amos that meets the eye.

Simply put, he’s the prototype of the macho African ‘big man’ politician.

Firstly, you’ll see how he uses intimidation to try and guarantee votes. He tries to extort local businessmen as well as threaten farmers to vote for him. Secondly, you’ll witness his machismo. The director intentionally shows him criticise his wife for buying scented body lotion and chide his secretary for playing kid’s puzzles. Just in case that’s too subtle, he’s also cheating on his wife. He’s not a nice man.

Conclusion and What to Watch Next

By giving Amos the characteristics of the ‘big man’ politician the director uses Amos to critique the power hungry men in Kenyan politics. It’s a subtle warning carried in a thrilling film well worth watching.

If you want to see more African ‘big men’ on screen, check out Last King of Scotland, a political thriller with Forrest Whitaker playing Ugandan dictator Idi Amin.

Or if you want to see African films with more violence and corruption, check out Beasts of No Nation featuring kid soldiers in an unnamed African country. You can also check out the living perpetrators of the Liberian Civil War in Fragment 53.

 

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.


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

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.

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.