Farewell Amor

Farewell Amor follows a father reunited with his wife and daughter after 17 years living apart. It starts with their reunion in New York airport and then splits into three parts to replay each of their experiences of their first few days back together. This allows us to see each of their perspectives in order to understand each of them better. Whilst each of them see things differently, they all highlight the struggle of living together after a long time apart.

Their first few days together feels pretty awkward. There’s a clash of cultures between Walter and Esther, the reunited couple. Walter has become accustomed to U.S. culture after 17 years living in New York. He’s created a new life for himself with the immigrant community around him. By contrast, Esther hasn’t had the privilege of officially starting a new life, as she’s been waiting for her U.S. visa. To perhaps deal with the struggle and uncertainty of their long distance relationship, she has found peace and happiness in becoming a stronger christian. Their different paths have caused Esther to become more strict and passive whilst Walter has become accustomed to a more free and open way of life in the U.S. It’s shown in the treatment of Sylvia (their daughter) and in what they do in their free time: Walter dances whilst Esther cleans and shops. They’ve each grown apart over time.

However, the tone of the movie makes it feel like their differences can be worked out. Instead of emphasizing the drama in their new conflicting personalities, Farewell Amor uses a relaxed pace to give time for us to get to see each character through their own eyes. It makes it feel like the characters, like us, can see both sides of each other. That whilst they’re all struggling to adjust to their new lives together, they all know they’ve been through the hardest part and just need to persevere to make things work.

It’s a refreshing American made film about the African experience that focuses on family relationships instead of the usual war driven (Beasts of No Nation) and exceptional African (Mandela films, Boy Who Harnessed the Wind, Queen of Katwe) narratives.


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

Eyimofe

Eyimofe is split into two stories. One features Mofe, a middle aged man who works as an electrician and lives with his sister and her children. The other features Rosa, a young woman who works as a hairdresser that takes care of her younger, pregnant sister. They share two obvious things in common. Firstly, they’re both trying to escape Lagos by obtaining visas to emigrate to Europe. Secondly, they’re both struggling to get by. Together, they represent a desire to escape poverty.

However, their visas definitely don’t seem legitimate. Mofe tries to obtain his from a guy with a computer that works at a stall in the middle of the street. Rosa’s method is worse, as she’s found a local mafiosa woman that has offered to get her and her sister visas in exchange for their baby. Their methods are symbolic of the global apartheid that restrict the underprivileged from freedom of movement. As we saw in AFI Fest’s I Carry You With Me and Farewell Amor, the legal routes for obtaining a visa to ‘the West’ are extremely limited for those without money.

Their lives aren’t just affected by their inability to get visas. They’re also stuck in the bureaucracy of inadequate social welfare at home. After Mofe’s sister dies, he gets caught in a long process of different forms and fees he has to fill out and pay before her death can be resolved. We see the whole process, from paying the morgue where the body is interred through to settling the inheritance. Likewise, Rosa has to fork out endless fees and debts to help out her pregnant sister. In contrast, life for the middle and upper class is a breeze. Mofe’s wealthy father can hire an expensive lawyer to swoop in and claim his daughter’s inheritance even if he hasn’t seen her for 10 years. And Rosa’s new American boyfriend can suddenly ghost her when she needs him for financial support. The wealthy can take advantage of the underprivileged (Mofe and Rosa) when they’re up, and avoid them as soon as they’re asked to help.

Eyimofe is a two part film which captures the wealth and class divide in Lagos. When you’re doing OK, you’re allowed independence and respect, but as soon as you meet hardship, everyone avoids you or takes advantage.


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

Stateless

In 2013, the Dominican Republic’s Supreme Court stripped the citizenship of anyone with Haitian parents, retroactive to 1929. The ruling rendered more than 200,000 people stateless, without nationality, identity or a homeland. Stateless follows Rosa Iris, an attorney with family who have been exiled by the country’s recent laws, as she mounts a grassroots electoral campaign to advocate for social justice. But it also follows her antithesis, Gladys Felix, an outspoken supporter of the nationalist movement, fighting for for stricter immigration control.

Like Softie, Stateless is an observational documentary that captures an activist from outside of the system fighting against corruption. Through Rosa’s story we’re exposed to the emotional trauma of the country’s recent anti-immigration policies. Simply put, they’re racist, and this is obvious right from the opening scene in which Rosa is representing a client in a government office. Her client is applying for an updated citizenship card but is being denied by the officer because “he doesn’t speak clear Spanish”. This is not an isolated incident. Rosa’s activism is also justified by her personal stakes. She has the same Haitian lineage as the people she’s representing that the country is persecuting. So she runs for government to represent people like her exiled because of their race.

However, unlike Softie, which focuses solely on Boniface’s family life and his campaign for government, Stateless also documents the other side of the fight against racism by following Gladys Felix, a member of the country’s anti-immigrant nationalist movement. We follow her as she spews racist rhetoric about the nature of Haitian immigrants and gaslights the experiences of Haitians she meets at a government built camp for sugar cane workers near the border. Whilst it feels odd to have their stories running alongside each other, it makes Stateless stand out. It allows us to see how present the threat is – not just to Rosa and her cousin Teofilo, but to all Haitian immigrants and Black Dominicans. Gladys adds a face (and very present reality) to the sometimes invisible state sanctioned racism of the Dominican Republic. She gives the audience something visual to root against.

If you’re looking for a documentary that examines racism in the Dominican Republic’s past and present through two women campaigning at either end of the political spectrum, this is the film you’re looking for.


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

In 2021 there were an estimated 218,062 attempted crossings of the Mediterranean Sea from Northern Africa and Turkey to Europe. Whilst some make it undetected, many succumb to the perilous journey or are captured by border patrols and sent back to Africa. Djibi made the crossing 10 years ago. But he’s returned to Burkina after 10 years of toiling away in Italy. He knows how hard the crossing was and has paid the price of living far away from home. But, he’s returned home with full pockets and a mission to train a group of 6 young people to make the crossing to Europe.

You’d expect a drama called The Crossing that focuses on the often tragic Africa to Europe migration route would be tough to watch as African film’s that focus on the route usually contain tragedy – see The Pirogue, Atlantiques, or Tenere. However, The Crossing largely runs against expectations. Thanks to light humor and a leisurely pace, the movie is an easy to watch dramedy.

The relaxed tone of the movie is clear from the start as Djibi returns home to a warm welcome from his old friend Pronto. The camera follows them as Pronto tours Djibi around the city, introducing to his friends and neighbors. There’s no soundtrack, and very little sound from their environment, which gives the film a comforting silence that is only covered by their conversation. Each shot also seems to linger slightly longer than the length of their conversations, giving the viewer a bit of dead time for contemplation. Both these techniques emphasize Djibi’s immediate comfort back in Burkina Faso and set us at ease for the humor to come in the rest of the film.

The Crossing largely plays out as a hang-out movie from here as the focus turns to the 6 youngsters in training and the various tasks that Djibi sets for them that range from swimming lessons to provoking a local gang. Some scenes contain messages, but they never feel preachy or out of place. Plus, the overall message is a good pro-African one, even if film still feels strongly linked to Europe in its language (it’s mostly French). So if you’re looking for an African movie that looks at migration with a touch of humor, try The Crossing.


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

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.