Revue “ to become a poultry of Guinea '': African Stunner on abuses

What is the right way to cry when the act will not forgive a crime? In the home drama of Moody from Rungano Nyoni “On Becoming A Guinea”, a young woman (Susan Chardy) returns home to sail in mourning rituals for a deceased uncle – formalities that come up against the reality of the monster he was.

The second feature film of Nyoni, which earned him a staging prize in Cannes, rightly follows it acclaimed in 2017 “I'm not a witch.” This semi-fantalist film was an impassive rotation on the insane misogyny that conveniently labeling a 9-year-old village girl, 9-year-old orphan. The new story of the British Zambian writer-director-director, however, focuses more psychologically on individual pain and cultural power, in particular the damage that sin and silence causes matriarchal societies that internalize patriarchy. You do not need to be a middle class Zambian or a knowing in the African tribal funeral customs to be taken in this finely transformed exploration of the long range of sexual abuse.

The allusive opening sequence alone would be considered a devastating short film on the subject. Going to the house of a costumed evening, Shula (at La Chardy) meets a corpse on the road. We never see the man completely, but when she removes her futuristic festive mask, the virgin dazzling of her sparkling eyes betrays cold recognition and a briefly inserted photo of her self-defy (Bhamjee injulars) carrying the same black party outfit of the evening which evokes a frightening certainty. On the phone, Shula's father (Henry BJ Phiri) reacts as if it was a thing: “Uncle Fred cannot die – simply sprinkle on him.”

What is relaunched is the buried trauma of Shula, which, in childhood, led it to a fascination for the cry of the guard of the bird, and in the current film manifests itself through the fascinating and tense impassiveness of Chady. (Also, Visuelly, in One of Nyoni's More Sublimely Dreamlike Touches, as a house prone to flooding.) With relatives pourring in, Increasing the press to participate in a days-long funeral where forceful aurenties font Everyone's bereavement-Even, Cruelly, The Young Widow (Norah Mwansa) they all see as a gold digger – shula searches for accountability from a gathering where family unity was always forged by ignore open secrets.

This nevertheless reinforces Shula's link with the other victims of his generation, a cousin with a pie humor (a wonderful Elizabeth Chisela) subject to alcohol binges and a student with a sweet face (Esther Singini) who falls disturbing. In another scene, this promotes a revolt shared with older women, which briefly allow their own sublimated pain emerging. Facing his father with his work on what is happening about Uncle Fred, however, is going nowhere. “Do we put the corpse put?” is his aggravated response.

The fact that Nyoni films this scene at a distance – the only male character living in the lead in the film does not assess a close -up – says something. Justice, supports the film, is in the hands of women, if they recognize the obvious power that they exercise in their community. In its atmosphere of gnawing discomfort with an imposed secret on bad men, “becoming a poultry of India” is a work of unique character and temporality. The brightness of Nyoni is to portray the gap between public and private, past and present, as spaces where submerged feelings coexist awkwardly, leaving no one capable of feeling really whole.

In the formidable compositions of Nyoni, a special mention must be made of the extremely evocative cinematography of David Gallego: interiors and exterior of the depth shaded by the moon which suggest an eternal night made by pockets of haunting light. Even the day scenes feel tinged by the dark – especially when Shula visits the house of her dead uncle to find a neglected arbor of forgotten children likely to be abandoned by his aunts of judgment. But he also has the seeds of the striking final image of this hypnotic film, a moment of sun, the sound of birds and human fury. Silence and helplessness can only be tolerated for so long.