Screening at TIFF: Akinola Davies Jr.’s ‘My Father’s Shadow’

A powerful work of memory and political vulnerability, Akinola Davies Jr. The shadow of my father is a stunning semi-automatic debut. During the Nigerian elections of 1993 – when military dictaire Ibrahim Badamasi Babangida destroyed unfavorable results – the story unfolds through the eyes of two young brothers and follows them on a day trip to Lagos with their alienated father, whose interactions they look and absorb.

Suitably written by Davies Jr. And his older brother Wale Davies-the father of the couple died when they were young-the film follows frogs brothers and sisters Akin and Remi, 8 and 11 years old. The two boys are also played by real brothers Godwin Egbo and Chibuke Marvelous Egbo, who brings a playful, natural energy for their childish, natural energy on their childish mapping paper of professional newspapers. When their father Folarin (Sopé Dìrísù) arrives unexpectedly one afternoon and appears as a phantom indoors, their surprise is not so much to see someone they did not expect, but someone they never expected to see. Davies Jr. Shoot Folarin as an unknowable mind, both respected and intimidating, because the film embodies both wishing fulfillment and tormenting memory. In the beginning it feels like a means for the filmmaker to better understand himself.

Folarin brutally reprimanded the boys and drags them to the city to collect money he has owed, in which he shows them a good time and catches up old friends and political comrades (who call each other lovingly Kapo). They even come across a few surprised relatives on the way, who are surprised to see after so long folarine. Without explicit gestures, the film becomes a kind of ghost story. Folarin may be alive and well in the literal plot, but Davies Jr. Often collect time to ways that indicate a little more soulful and more painful than a linear retelling.

Cinematographer Jermaine Edwards’ thoughtful use of high-contrast celluloid yields a warm and detailed texture, turning The shadow of my father In a living photo and a reminder of the past life of the rhythmic carpet of the city in the city. Occasionally something seems to slide into the fabric of the film, as if a projectionist had put the film lane aside to add a few wandering (and damaged) frames of darkened flashbacks, that Folarin seems to ‘see’ in moments he son. With news about political atrocities on TV and radio, Folarin and his children’s journey (surrounded by armed guards) will be a visit, not only to busy Lagos markets, but an excursion to 1993 from an all -knowing future Vantage, as if Davies Jr. tried to use images to send messages back in time – or to receive them from the past.

This feeling of feeling, woven in the material of the film, is compensated with a childish simplicity. During the whole visit, Akin and Remi try to reconcile their father’s love with his frequent absence – a scenario that is so far beyond their understanding that it causes tantrums. Although this story is told by the eyes of the adolescents, the camera remains tied to the introspective conflict of Dìrísù without cutting away, always within centimeters of a satisfactory answer. Both in 1993 and today, Folarin remains an open wound for Davies Jr., but observing this cinematic version of him – compared to his element and among friends and acquaintances – is perhaps the closest to the filmmaker who can really know him.

If there is a mistake in the approach to the film, it is only in how it is packaged for international viewers. There is a floral naturalism in dialogue, which switches between English and Yoruba, but the first one-one-filled Nigerian Pidgin is often subtitled in ways that western the dialogue, robbing his taste. Phrases like “no Vex” become “don’t be angry”, while longer, more detailed statements are simplified. The gossip exchange: “Meself just resumed last week. I don’t know you have in Chioma Born Born Born Born Born Hoint in January?” is reduced to the much clinical and formal more clinical and formal “personally I resumed last week. I don’t know if you heard it, Chioma had twins in January?” In the lower third part.

Although this happens everywhere, it is in no way a dealbreaker, but The shadow of my father In particular, was the first Nigerian film that got the most prestigious stage from World Cinema: the official competition of the Cannes film festival. This speaks of the fact that international distribution still has to catch up how the stiffness of language can hinder artistic expression. In particular, these Western subtitling standards collide with the sharp observed realism of the film, while the more accurate, more colorful alternative would have been an easy -to -understand window in the memories of Davies Jr.

Yet sharp eyes and ears will probably absorb the film completely, given the lively dramatic presentation. From his soft introduction to his shocking last scene – a lifelike anti -limax that is more meaningful than logistics –The shadow of my father Acts as both a retrospective and a soulful reconstruction, which brings life into the past and at the same time distinguishes the personal and pragmatic details that inform the complexity of a person – even someone who fully exists in the memory.

More in Film