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'Mangrove' Will Leave You Enraged, but That's the Point

Like Lover’s Rock, Mangrove, the first film chronologically in Steve McQueen‘s Small Axe series, begins with a song. Based on a true story, the film opens in 1968. We meet Frank Crichlow (Shaun Parkes), a self-assured Black man who smokes and plays card games in a vibrant room with other men. The liveliness and color he’s initially surrounded with fade into a muted neutral color as he descends up into London’s streets and walks forward into the community of Notting Hill.

Frank is on a mission. Having closed his previous establishment that appeared to be a catch-all of questionable activity, including numbers running and a meeting place for alleged criminals, he’s ready to open his Mangrove restaurant. A Trinidadian-born Londoner, Frank is proud to serve dishes and deliver ambiance so near and dear to him. 

Continue reading at Showbiz Cheatsheet.

tags: NYFF58, NYFF, Steve McQueen, Small Axe, Mangrove, Shaun Parkes
categories: Film/TV
Friday 09.25.20
Posted by Aramide Tinubu
 

Steve McQueen's 'Lovers Rock' Is a Sumptuous Display of Black Joy

Black joy undoubtedly exists. The diaspora would never have survived all that has been thrust upon it without these moments of levity. However, throughout the history of cinema, studios and filmmakers have made very little room for Black love, romance, lust, and sensuality. It is only in recent years following the twenty-year drought that existed between films like Love & Basketball, Love Jones, and even The Best Man that Black love has reemerged in cinema. Steve McQueen’s Lovers Rock has solidified itself in this new emergence of Black passion, seen in recent films like Queen & Slim and The Photograph.

Set in London in 1980, Lovers Rock follows a group of young people as they descend on a house party to celebrate Cynthia’s (Ellis George) 17th birthday. Having enlisted her West Indian family’s help, we watch Cynthia’s mother and aunties working in the kitchen, preparing pots of curry goat and ackee and saltfish to sell. They take time to sway their rounded hips and sing-along to the radio between the chopping and stirring. 

Continue reading at Showbiz Cheatsheet.

tags: Lovers Rock, Steve McQueen, NYFF58, NYFF
categories: Film/TV
Thursday 09.17.20
Posted by Aramide Tinubu
 

'Félicité': Alain Gomis’ fourth feature is largely captivating (NYFF Review)

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Some films are fully fleshed out narratives, with plot points and climaxes that viewers can quickly point to. These movies follow a certain path – there is a particular moment or resolution that the protagonist must reach so that their story can come to its conclusion. Other films simply embody emotion. These narratives are full-length works that capture exuberance, joy or even endless bouts of despair. Franco-Senegalese director Alain Gomis’ fourth feature, Félicité is one such film. As the movie opens, we meet Félicité (portrayed by singer-turned-actress Véro Tshanda Beya), a single mother and vocalist at a popular nightclub in her hometown of Kinshasa – the Democratic Republic of the Congo’s capital. Her attitude like the arresting timbre of her voice is fierce. A force to be reckoned with and independent to a fault – Félicité lives her life her on own terms without the confines of marriage or the bounds of a relationship. She’s free and joyous until that’s all snatched away. When her 14-year-old son Samo (Gaetan Claudia) is severely injured in a motorbike accident – Félicité’s life caves in around her. Samo’s operation costs an enormous sum -- one million Congolese francs ($600 USD), and for the first time in her life – Félicité is forced to ask for help.

Overcome with fear and desperate to raise funds to save her son’s life— Félicité’s once open and lively personality becomes sullen and closed off. Her day-to-day existence, contending with a perpetually busted fridge, warding off the harassment of men and even singing become unbearable. Through Félicité’s eyes, Gomis highlights the burdens women must shoulder and the repercussions that they face when they live life on their own terms. In a society that values women only in relation to men, Félicité’s unwillingness to tie herself to a man and the freedom that she so relishes costs her basic human compassion. Gomis eloquently highlights both the sexism and poverty in the Congo. At times it is so powerful that searing looks and crisp shots are enough to carry film – there’s little dialogue in Félicité -- but it’s not missed.

While others– including her bandmates at the club are hesitant to help Félicité save her son– it is her unlikely companion Tabu (Papi Mpaki) – a womanizer and the club’s notorious drunk who might be her saving grace. And yet, Tabu is no savior. Gomis makes it clear that he enters Félicité life because she allows him to do so -- he does not barge his way in. The duo’s unlikely companionship is certainly one of much amusement and contemplation. However, their bond does not carry the film. It is the exhaustion and pain that leaves Félicité’ in constant turmoil that keeps viewers glued to the screen. Her panic and grief are palpable.

Continue reading at Shadow and Act.

tags: Alain Gomis, chocolategirlreviews, Félicité, NYFF
categories: Film/TV
Tuesday 10.10.17
Posted by Aramide Tinubu
 

'The Rape of Recy Taylor' unpacks the forgotten story of a woman who refused to be silenced (NYFF Review)

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"I can’t help but tell the truth – what they done to me," 97-year-old Recy Taylor says as she sits in her nursing home in Abbeville, Alabama. Taylor is elegant — draped in pearls with her reading glasses perched on her nose. 73 years later, she can recall in vivid detail the night that changed her life forever. Filmmaker Nancy Buirski’s new documentary The Rape of Recy Taylor chronicles the horrendous assault that Taylor endured, which caused outrage across the country before it was swiftly erased from the history books. In 1944, while walking home from Rock Hill Holiness Church in Abbeville with two friends, Taylor was kidnapped at gunpoint by seven white boys and raped for several hours in the woods. Taylor was a 24-year-old sharecropper at the time — a young wife and mother whose life shattered as a result of the brutal assault and the aftermath of it. However, her determination to speak out sparked a new type of resistance. Rape is an unspeakable crime – it is as revolting as it is unfathomable and yet it remains so prevalent. The world has never been a safe place for women, but for women of color and Black women, in particular, it has been nightmarish. To tell Taylor's story, the documentary uses footage from “race films” like Oscar Micheaux’s Within Our Gates — home video, commentary from Yale scholar Crystal Feimster, Ph.D archival footage and interviews from Taylor’s siblings – her brother Robert Corbitt and sister, Alma Daniels. Buirski traces the night of the attack, the grand jury hearings that led to no indictments, as well as the NAACP’s involvement. It was Taylor’s willingness to speak out against what happened to her and so many other nameless, faceless women that propelled the Black Press and the nation to rally behind her.

The Rape of Recy Taylor is not an easy film to watch. Along with Taylor’s story – the film also moves through the history of Black women’s rapes by white men beginning with slavery. Utilizing research from scholar Danielle McGuire's 2011 book, At the Dark End of the Street: Black Women, Rape, and Resistance  — the film examines the lack of justice and protection around Black women and their bodies. Buirski also hones in on the perception of Black women as a whole – the men who raped Taylor felt entitled to do so, and after they were questioned, they tried to claim that she was a prostitute.

The film moves quickly. The eerie race film footage and music like Dinah Washington’s “This Bitter Earth” tie together giving the documentary a tone that is prevalent in horror films. The audience sees the botched investigation into the assault and learns from Taylor’s family how much it affected her father – a man who began sleeping in the tree above their home with a shotgun to protect his family once the assault became public information. The one gripe that I had with the film was that we hear from the rapists' families. To this day, they act as if the boys involved had simply gone joyriding in a stolen vehicle. Though they were probably given a voice out of a need to present a fair and balanced story, I was only enraged further.

Continue reading at Shadow and Act.

tags: Nancy Buirski, NYFF, Recy Taylor, The Rape of Recy Taylor
categories: Film/TV
Monday 10.02.17
Posted by Aramide Tinubu
 

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