Kenyan lesbianism isn’t a subject films often cover. Heck, Kenyan lesbianism isn’t a subject life often covers. I can only guess if Kenya itself covers it. It doesn’t help that this film shares a title with the name of MC Mandrill from The Lion King; people who know their Disney will likely think it a spinoff … a lame spinoff, but a spinoff all the same.
When the film begins, it’s possible Kena (Samantha Mugatsia) doesn’t quite yet know she’s a lesbian. We do know that she isn’t pleased about the homosexual bashing coming from the loud mouth at her lunch table. But it’s the kind of displeased where you make a sour expression and your thought bubble reads, “Please! Please! Please shut the Hell up!” but leads to no action. Most people in the small town see her paired with peer playboy friend Blacksta (Neville Misati) and assume that when he settles, they’ll be a thing. This is one of those cities where, apparently, only twelve people live and they all see one another at church. The good part of that is we know all the people we need to know; the bad part of that is it’s fairly unrealistic for anything to come as a surprise.
Kena helps run a convenience store the size of a phone booth with her father. Her father is competing in a local election with the kind of blowhard who canvasses by use of low rider and megaphone. Check it, blowhard has a young adult daughter, too. And Ziki (Sheila Munyiva) has hair entirely consisting of sweet tart bead chains … well, hey, I’m sold. And so is Kena. So instead of making war when the Ziki crew goes after her dad’s campaign posters, Kena starts asking if Ziki al dente is on the menu.
Well, hey, is semi-urban Kenya enlightened enough to allow Kena and Ziki? I suppose if it were advanced past the “Alabama” stage of evolution, we wouldn’t have much of a film now, would we? Anybody else think this film should be titled “Kenziki?”
Rafiki makes a classic miscue among social justice film: the problem is bigger than the players. I don’t think that’s the fault of either woman; Samantha Mugatsia and Sheila Munyiva both made an impression of sorts. But Rafiki is a film in which the distance between blissful dream and rude awakening takes just about 15 seconds of screen time. Really? 15 seconds is all we get to pretend their contentment will last forever? This is less about sloppy storytelling and more about the tale the director/editor wanted to tell. Wanuri Kahiu, my dude, don’t rush the foreplay; let the story speak for itself … and next time put some bodies between our leads; in a town of twelve people, everybody ought to know everything.
I don’t wish to raise a big fuss
But I rate foreign failure a plus
Instead of distressing
I find it refreshing
Other cultures can be backwards like us
Not Rated, 83 Minutes
Director: Wanuri Kahiu
Writer: Wanuri Kahiu & Jenna Cato Bass
Genre: The bigotry of other cultures
Type of being most likely to enjoy this film: Kenyan lesbians
Type of being least likely to enjoy this film: Bigots
