homophobia - FilmRoot

Right Near the Beach – Pan African Film Festival 2020

In Right Near the Beach, Jeffrey Jacobs, Jamaica’s world record breaking sprinter is beaten to death near his home. His murder sparks a frenzy of media coverage that digs into his friendship with a gay man. Jeffrey’s single father becomes a social pariah because of the reaction to his son’s death, living alone in the hills. It’s only when his youngest son returns that he is given a chance to transcend his isolation and grief.

Right Near the Beach tells its story effectively through the images and sounds it presents. Firstly, the film develops Terrence Malick’s visual style to create a more visceral feeling. Right Near the Beach still has the trademark wandering camera and meditative shots familiar to Malick’s films, but adds a varying shot length to better convey the varying emotions Jeffrey’s dad feels.

For most of the film, the average spot length feels longer than your typical Hollywood film. This gives the audience more time to watch the characters as they wander in rural Jamaica alone, allowing us to feel their search for inner peace. However, for a few key scenes, the emotional toll of the media and neighborhood gossip is too much for them and they release their frustration in sin scenes with frantically fast cutting. The quick shots that rapidly cut around Jeffrey’s dad when he starts axing a tree root creates an urgent feeling of blind rage that contrasts with the otherwise relaxed feelings generated by the longer shots. It’s one example of how the filmmakers brilliantly use shot lengths to change the feelings of each scene.

Secondly, the sound of Right Near the Beach provides the foundation for the visual experimentation. In the first half of the film, the soundtrack is dominated by a constant stream of radio show interviews with people discussing Jeffrey Jacobs’ homosexuality. The real homophobia you hear on air (these interviews were conducted with real Jamaicans) penetrates the silence of the rural area Jeffrey’s father lives. What he hears forces him deeper into isolation just to try and silence the country’s prejudice. This changes in the second half of the film, when the prejudiced voices that plague him start to ease after his youngest son’s arrival. They’re replaced by more natural sounds from the rural environment they live in, marking his successful coming to terms with his eldest son’s death. It’s as if he’s managed to meditate away the hateful media and replace it with a calm peace of mind. Just as the visceral visual style builds emotions, the sounds we hear guide us through Jeffrey’s dad’s grief.

To take the film full circle, the filmmakers end the film with the reunion of the dad and his youngest son. It’s a touching end to an emotional film that shows they have both transcended the deaths of their brother/son and mother/wife.

Right Near the Beach manages to accomplish a lot. Firstly, the editing and cinematography work incredibly well with the soundscape to depict the character’s raw emotion and path to overcoming their grief. Secondly, the full circle script gives the film a spiritual completeness that many films fail to achieve. But, that’s not all. Right Near the Beach also touches on the prejudice in Jamaica and how the country is largely overlooked internationally except for beaches and running (hence the ironic title). I’m excited to see more from these filmmakers.

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

Dakan – Homophobia Disrupting the Future of Two Guineans

Dakan Film Difficulty Ranking: 3

Dakan is the first Sub-Saharan African film to deal with homosexuality. The focus of the film is the plight of two high school lovers in a society rejects them. They don’t fit into traditional or modern Guinean society, shown through Manga’s ‘traditional’ mother and Sori’s ‘modern’ father. As a result, they’re condemned to a life without love.

From: Guinea, Africa
Watch: YouTube, Vimeo, Kanopy
Next: Jose, I Am Not a Witch, Tanna

The Breakdown

Dakan experienced a lot of protests in Guinea during its production, and once you see the first scene, you’ll understand why. For many countries around the world, homosexuality is taboo or illegal, so to have an opening scene of two men making out in an orange convertible like a scene from an American hetero high school romance is a bit of a shock for the world’s conservative viewers.

The two lovers are both high school students hoping to get into university. They openly show affection for each other at school, where they are largely accepted and left alone, but at home their relationship provides a source of friction for their parents. For Manga’s single mother, she sees Manga’s relationship with Sori as a curse that will deprive her of grandchildren. In contrast, Sori’s father sees Sori’s relationship with Manga as a distraction from his studies and his prosperous future in business.

They also differ in their way of stopping their son’s relationship. Manga’s mum relies on traditional methods, sending Manga away to a traditional witch doctor to be cured. In contrast, Sori’s father, a ‘modern’ businessman, sends Sori to work for him in his company. However, neither route changes how they feel about each other. Their solemn faces throughout the film only emphasizes that there is no place for them in a traditional society founded on the family, or a ‘modern’ society founded on economic growth. There’s no place for their love in Guinea.

Overall Dakan is a good African film that uses homophobia to talk about the common African and third cinema tropes of modernity and tradition. There was a moment in Dakan where I feared the film would turn into an HIV disaster film like Kijiji Changu but fortunately Mohamed Camara doesn’t diminish the relatively progressive portrayal of homosexuality in Africa.

What to Watch Next

If you’re looking for more films from the global south that portray homosexual relationships in countries that don’t have a place for it, check out Jose from Guatemala and Rafiki from Kenya.

Or for more witch doctors trying to cure people in Africa, Zambia’s unique I Am Not A Witch is a must watch.

Finally for more films that feature Romeo + Juliet relationships that are forbidden by society, check out Tanna, featuring an controversial relationship that crosses tribes in Vanuata.

I Carry You With Me – AFI Fest 2020

I Carry You With Me is an epic cross generational, border crossing love story that hops between Puebla in Mexico and New York in the USA. It’s shot across three time periods: the present in NY, the past in Puebla, and the distant past reflected in childhood memories. The majority of the film takes place in the middle where Ivan and Gerardo meet. It contains the bulk of the film’s emotion and narrative. However, the cuts to the present imbue it with nostalgia by situating it in the past. It makes it feel like a dream period for the couple that contrasts with the uncertainty of their lives in the present.

The style also contributes to the dream like qualities of the middle period. Like Wong Kar-wai’s In the Mood for Love, Heidi Ewing uses a lot of color filters to imbue warmth and feeling to I Carry You With Me. Instead of warm reds and oranges, there’s greens, oranges, and blues that create a world that feels unique and special. It captures the excitement of their romance. Also like In The Mood for Love, there’s food. A plate of Chile en Nogada replaces a bowl of hot steaming noodles. Chile en Nogada being one of Puebla and Mexico’s most iconic dishes and one that is notoriously hard to make. It both situates their romance and symbolizes their love.

The portrayal of Puebla also challenges the typical American Dream narrative presented in U.S.-Mexico films. It depicts a Mexican city full of warmth, beauty, and life to contrast with the lonely, bleak, coldness of New York. In this film, the U.S. is not the land of opportunity that it is often depicted to be. Instead of leaving to escape poverty, they leave for the opportunity to start a new life.

I Carry You With Me is not without it’s own cliches. There’s the gay guy with the female best friend and another who’s best friend is a flamboyant drag queen. Then there’s the haunting memories of the first time their fiercely patriarchal families put them down. Obviously not all families in Mexico are like this, and whilst I don’t doubt these events happened to the real Ivan and Gerardo, they feel like exploitative throw in scenes designed to evoke sympathy and emotion. However, despite the cliches,I Carry You With Me is a brilliantly romantic portrayal of generation and border crossing love.

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