ScreenFish

where faith and film are intertwined

based on a true story

Mangrove – Demanding Justice

by Leave a Comment

“We must become the shepherd of our own destinies”

Mangrove, the opening film of Steve McQueen’s Small Axe anthology, is a tale of racial struggle against police abuse. It is based on the true story of the Mangrove Nine, a group of men and women put on trial in London. (Yes, that’s right, racial prejudice is not the sole possession of America.)

The first half of the film focuses primarily Frank Crichlow (Shaun Parkes), a Trinidadian immigrant who in 1968 has just opened the Mangrove restaurant in the Notting Hill area of London. It serves the kind of spicy foods preferred by Caribbean people. Almost from the start the police, lead by Police Constable Pulley (Sam Spruell), begin harassing Crichlow and the restaurant. The restaurant becomes a gathering place for the immigrant community. In time they take issue with all the harassment and plan a protest. During the protest, the police attack the crowd. In the aftermath nine leaders of the community are put on trial for the serious charges of riot and affray.

The second half of the film is a courtroom drama. The defendants faced many years in prison. Their very lives were in the balance. And solicitors and barristers told them over and over to trust the system. But the defendants knew that the legal system was just as corrupt as the police. Two of the defendants chose to represent themselves, which allowed them the opportunity to cross-examine witnesses and address the jurors. On the whole, the defense was an attack of the status quo of racial animosity. The trial became the first time the courts made note of the racial discrimination by the police force.

Thereare some comparisons to be made to The Trial of the Chicago 7 in that they occur roughly at the same time, both involve police caused riots, and the trials took on a rebellious tone. But this is by far a much better film.

The Small Axe anthology is a collection of five films by McQueen that focus on the world he grew up in. His parents were from Grenada and Trinidad. At least four of the films are based on actual events and people. It shows the black immigrant society as a vibrant culture of music, color, language, and joyous celebrations—but also frequently hardship because of a racist system.

This film shows some of the different manifestations of racism. (And we need to note that these forms are as relevant in this country as they are in the UK of the film.) The racism that we see in PC Pulley is the kind of blatant racism that repels us. (“The thing about the black man is he has his place. He’s just got to know his place.”). He and other police officers regularly hassle random black people for no reason. In court they suggest that all blacks are “criminal, prostitutes, ponces, and the like”.

But when the film switches to being a courtroom drama, the entire system comes under scrutiny for the ways that racism has been institutionalized, such as the make up of the jury, the way defendants are supposed to put their trust in the “professionals”, and the ways the judge fails to allow them to have voice. This kind of racism can be even more injurious because the system gives the impression of fairness, but often that impression is an illusion.

The film also touches on the responsibility of both intentional and accidental leaders. Crichlow really did not aspire to being a community leader. He just wanted to run his restaurant. He told one of the more strident leaders, “It’s a restaurant, not a battle ground”. But when circumstances continued to escalate, he had to make choices that pushed him into leadership. We also see in Crichlow the struggle of facing the risk that leadership brings. He is torn at times between doing what would be safe and doing what is right.

To do the right thing often is a matter of faith. Throughout the film, the defendants are told to have faith—in the judicial process. They hear it so often it becomes a joke to them that they should expect the system to come through for them. Others suggest that the characters need to have faith in the community to stand in solidarity. But at a crucial time, Frank, unable to sleep, sits on his bed and opens his Bible to a picture of his parents. On the back it reads, “In God you must trust.” There he finds the strength to carry on with what is right.

Mangrove (and the other Small Axe films) are streaming on Amazon Prime.

Photos courtesy of Amazon Studios.

Recon – Moral Questions of War

by Leave a Comment

“I have had enough.”

How should we think of war? Is it a romantic, idealized story of heroics? Is it hell, as General Sherman said? Do we accept that “all’s fair” in war? Are there rules of morality that we must follow to maintain our humanity? Recon, written and directed by Rob Port, uses a real event in World War II to ask some of these questions. It is interesting that the film is being brought out for Veterans Day, a day we celebrate the military. While the film is not anti-military, is certainly has a perspective that war is a morally troublesome experience.

The film follows four soldiers as they climb an Italian mountain in search of German soldiers. They are being led by an Italian man who claims to be a partisan, but they are never sure of his real loyalties. The four are haunted, to varying degrees, by having seen their sergeant murder a civilian woman. As they make their way up the mountain with the dangers of landmines and snipers, they speak of life and death, of war and justice, of right and wrong.

They are a diverse group—liberal, racist, Jewish, Catholic, different educational levels, different backgrounds. Their perspectives on the murder range widely as well. At times, their differences threaten to bring them to violence. Only their taciturn leader, Corporal Marson, manages to keep them on focus and working together. The constant danger the squad faces as it seeks the enemy and then must find its way back home give the film a familiar war film tension.

This is not just a celebration of bravery—although there is that aspect as we see these soldiers carry out their mission. It also dives into the questions about the nature of war. It is not just the murder of a civilian that is at issue. These soldiers must also make decisions of life and death. They cannot just turn off their morality or their spiritual life. To kill another human is not an inconsequential occurrence. It leaves a spiritual mark. Perhaps some people can live with that, but not everyone. This film highlights the spiritual and emotional injuries that war brings as well as the physical costs.

As the story plays out, eventually Marson will have to decide just what kind of person he is. Can he kill just because it is war, or must he respond as a human—and as a Christian. That choice will have an almost karmic effect when we read the title card post script to the film.

From the times of the early church, war was seen as problematic. Saints Augustine and Thomas Aquinas both spoke of Just War—a recognition that war is inherently evil, but at times necessary. There may be questions whether modern weapons and technology make Just War possible. Part of Just War theory is not only the justice of the cause, but also the justice and morality of how war is carried out. Recon taps into that tradition of thinking of war.

Recon show through Fathom Events on November 10 and releases in limited theaters November 13.

Photos courtesy of Brainstorm Media.

The Keeper -Finding Forgiveness

by Leave a Comment

Based on a true story, The Keeper, from director Marcus H Rosenmüller, is the story of a German POW who in the post-war years becomes one of the most famous football (soccer to Americans) players in England. Along the way the story looks the difficulty of forgiving both our enemies and ourselves. And there’s a love story.

Bert Trautmann (David Kross) is a German paratrooper who fought most of the war in Poland, earning an Iron Cross. Late in the war, he’s captured by the British and placed in a POW camp in Lancashire. Because he volunteered for the German army and was well decorated, he gets some pretty nasty jobs in the camp. After the war, the POWs were kept there for some time until repatriation could happen.

One day when Jack Friar (John Henshaw) and his daughter Margaret (Freya Mavor) deliver goods to the camp, Friar sees Trautmann tending goal as the prisoners play football. He is exceptional. Friar is the manager of a local football club that is in dire need of improvement. He arranges to have Trautmann work for him so he can use him as a goalie in upcoming matches. The team prospers, and just about the time Trautmann is due to return to Germany, the manager of the Manchester City club offers him a tryout. Around this same time, Trautmann and Margaret marry. (The love story takes up most of the first half of the film.)

It is not easy for a former Nazi to be accepted either by teammates or fans. The issue was multiplied when he began playing in Manchester, which had a sizable Jewish population. In time, a rabbi who had fled Germany wrote an open letter saying that we shouldn’t judge on what we presume, but judge each by their merit. That let Trautmann find some acceptance, and his exceptional play led the team to more victories—eventually winning the FA Cup—a match in which Trautmann played the last 15 minutes with a broken neck.

The film, as is often the case with sports stories, deals with adversity, perseverance, and heroics. But it is also a love story, and that adds another dimension. In fact, this is more love story than sports story. But the issues of adversity, perseverance, and heroics are just as important in that part of the story.

Through the first half of the film, the adversity has to do with Trautmann’s past as a German soldier, and the perception others had of him. As one character tells him, “To me and everyone around me, you’re still the enemy.” Margaret was just as set against Trautmann as everyone else. But as she got to know him, and saw within him someone who had dreams and fears like everyone else, she softened to him.

Later in the film, other problems arise that test Trautmann individually, and him and Margaret as a couple. We learn in bits and pieces through the film some of the ghosts and guilt that haunt Trautmann. Just as Margaret, then fans had to come to term with how they viewed Trautmann’s past, so must he. Often it is much more difficult to forgive oneself that to find forgiveness in others.

There is an interesting side note in this film for people familiar with Christian hymnody (at least for non-British people). In the scene leading up to the famous championship game, we hear the crowd singing “Abide with Me”. It turns out that that is a tradition for the FA Cup Finals dating back to 1927. (I’ve yet to find an explanation.) It seems a strange song to sing prior to a sports match, given that it is a song asking for God’s presence at the time of death. The song is sung again at the end of the film. While the song is included mostly for its association to football, it also fits well at the end of the film because death crops up at various times in the film, as it does throughout our lives. It is a nice reminder of our need for God’s presence, not only when “fast falls the eventide”, but always.

The Keeper is opening in theaters (where open) and on virtual cinema through local arthouses.

Photos courtesy of Beta Cinema.

The Traitor: What is Honor?

by Leave a Comment

“I was and remain a man of honor.”

Tommaso Buscetta (Pierfrancesco Favino) claimed to be an honorable man. But what he meant by that may mean something different than you think. The Traitor is the story of how in the 1980s, he (and some others) began to bring down the Cosa Nostra (aka Sicilian Mafia).

As that time the Cosa Nostra was controlling the world heroin trade. As the film opens, Buscetta is attending a summit of the Palermo and Corleone clans to divide up the business. They establish a tentative peace, which turns out to be short-lived. Buscetta (who is a prison escapee) has set up a life in Brazil with a new wife. He lives well there. But when the gang war reignites, resulting in the death of his two sons of a previous marriage, some want him to return and take revenge. He is reluctant, but soon the Brazilian authorities arrest him, torture him (and his family), and extradite him back to Italy.

He returns to Italy volunteering to talk to Judge Giovanni Falcone, a prosecuting magistrate, about the Cosa Nostra, but not planning to be an informer. But as he and Falcone establish respect and rapport, Buschetta becomes the key evidence leading to hundreds of arrests and a massive trial. Buschetta is villainized in Sicily—even by his old family. But his new family is settled into witness protection in the US.

Early on in his discussion with Falcone, he defines “honorable man”. That is the term that the soldiers in the Cosa Nostra use for themselves. But Buschetta sees it as more than that. For him it harkens back to the values espoused by the Cosa Nostra when he became affiliated. Those values are explained in a story of early on, he was told to kill a particular person. That person saw Buschetta and knew what was to happen, but he grabbed his baby. Buschetta would not kill him with his child nearby. That would be wrong. So he waited while the boy grew.

At two and a half hours, this film takes its time in an attempt to provide an overall look at Buscetti’s life and his decision to inform on those with whom he had served. Yet in covering so much, it makes it hard to explore the more intimate bits of the story, such as the developing relationship between Buschetta and Falcone and how that relationship shaped Buschetta and his opinion of what he was doing.

And most of all, the film needs a bit more attention to the meaning of the honor that Buschetta saw himself as embodying. As a “man of honor” within the Cosa Nostra, his honor was a sort of twisted sense of values. To be sure, the Cosa Nostra took care of their community in a certain sense, but that concern was less than honorable by most standards of morality. But when Bruscetta becomes an informer and serves as a witness against former allies, perhaps he has discovered a new sense of honor. That exploration could have added some heft to a story that wants so say something about truth and honor.

The Traitor is available on VOD and DVD.

Burden – Only Love Can Replace Hate

by Leave a Comment

Jesus told us “But I say to you that listen, Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you” (Luke 6:27f, NRSV). We revere those words, but probably in our heart of hearts we say, “yeah, right.” In Andrew Heckler’s film Burden, we see what that means. It is hard. But it may also lead to transformation.

Based on a true story, the film is set in Laurens, South Carolina in the 1990s, the film centers on Mike Burden (Garrett Hedlund), a young man who has risen to the rank of Grand Dragon within the local Ku Klux Klan. He is mostly uneducated and get by working as a repo man. He, along mentor and father-figure Tom Griffin (Tom Wilkinson), opens The Redneck Shop and KKK Museum in downtown Laurens. This immediately gets the attention of a local Baptist minister, Reverend David Kennedy (Forest Whittaker), who organizes daily non-violent protests outside the shop. Kennedy is adamant about keeping the protests non-violent, but Griffin is eager to provoke a riot and wants Kennedy out of the picture.

When Burden begins dating Judy (Andrea Riseborough), a young single-mother, who is opposed to the Klan, his commitment begins to wane. His love for Judy and her son makes him question his place in the Klan, and eventually he opts to leave the Klan. He and Judy are immediately evicted from their home and lose their jobs. Living in Judy’s car and reduced to panhandling, Kennedy meets with them and hears their story. He invites them into his home—much to the dismay of his wife, son, and congregation.

But that marks about the halfway point in the film. The real conflict that fills the second half of the film is about how Burden must learn lessons of repentance, forgiveness, and transformation. As Kennedy says, hate will not go away unless it is replaced by love. Burden’s love for Judy was the starting point that opened the way for more love to flow in. I think the film could have used a bit more of Judy’s story to explain her antipathy for the Klan.

Many will look at this as a great triumph over racism. In some ways it is. The Klan and its hatred need to be confronted and overcome. The personal transformation of Mike Burden is not far short of miraculous. But showing racism in its grossest forms (as many films do) covers over the more subtle systemic racism that fills our society and, if we are honest with ourselves, our own lives. It is easy to look at Mike Burden and know that we were never the kind of racist he was before he was brought around to a new way of thinking. But will we be willing to look to see just how racist we are?

Where this film shines is not so much in its confrontation of racism as in its more subtle look at the power of non-violence and the transformative power of Jesus’ words in the first paragraph above. That teaching goes against everything else in our experience. Reverend Kennedy acted out those words in the way he treated a man who hated him and abused him. To befriend Burden went against Kennedy’s own sense of self-preservation. (And his wife and son were more than clear about their fears.) The fruits that flow from that act eventually led Burden to a new way of seeing the world in which he lived. It also opened him up to the point of confessing his own sins and repenting so that he could more fully appreciate the grace that had been offered him.

Photos courtesy of 101 Studios

Papillon – From Savagery to Resurrection

by Leave a Comment

“It’s not rehabilitation—we know that’s worthless—so we do our best to break you.”

Papillon is inspired by semi-autobiographical bestselling books (Papillon and Banco) and the 1973 film with Steve McQueen and Dustin Hoffman (with a screenplay by Dalton Trumbo).  Returning to such a classic film is challenging, but director Michael Noer has brought new life and a gritty vision to this new version.

Henri “Papillon” Charrière (Charlie Hunnam) is a small-time crook in 1931 Paris. When he runs afoul of a crime boss, he is framed for a murder and sentenced to life in the French penal colony in French Guyana. But Charrière is determined to escape and return for vengeance. On the transport to the penal colony he befriends Louis Dega (Rami Malek) a meek counterfeiter rumored to have a stash of money. Charrière makes a deal with Dega to provide him with protection in exchange for Dega funding his eventual escape.

Life in the penal system is difficult and violent. On arriving in French Guyana, the prisoners hear the rules. If you try to escape, we’ll shoot you. If we miss, the jungle or the sharks will get you. If you get caught, you will spend two years in solitary the first time, five years the second, then transferred to the notorious Devil’s Island. If you commit murder, you go to the guillotine. The prisoners are assigned hard labor and failure will result in severe punishment.

The partnership between Charrière and Dega creates a bond between them that becomes not just about business, but about friendship. After Charrière’s first escape attempt (and his two years in solitary), Dega has now moved into a position of trust—keeping the books for the warden. This provides a chance for another try at escape, this time with Dega going with him and two others.

Charrière refuses to be broken, even by failure, even by years of solitary, even by beatings, even when taken to Devil’s Island. Dega, on the other hand, abandoned hope early on and hardened himself for the life in the prison system. He continues though to think that perhaps Charrière will be able to make things better.

Contrary to the warden’s words at the top of this review, there is a kind of rehabilitation for Charrière. He continues to have a hope of escape and a new life. That gives new meaning to his nickname, Papillon (butterfly). The butterfly is often seen as a symbol of resurrection and new life. As the years pass, it is a new life that Charrière seems intent on finding—not the revenge that he sought at first. He tells Dega at one point after years in the prison colony, “If I ever get out of here I’m going to lead a different life.”

Perhaps that is why when he finally found that new life and wrote his autobiographical books, they became bestsellers and prompted film adaptations. The riveting story of the absolute savagery and inhumanity within that prison setting eventually shifts to a story to hope and fulfillment. It is surely not an easy transformation. But the very fact that Charrière not only maintained his humanity, but even grew in positive ways makes this a story worth celebrating.

Photo credit Jose Haro / Bleecker Street

The Captain – Responding to Authority

by 2 Comments

“Everyone gets their due.”

The power of authority is at the center of The Captain, a German film from Robert Schwentke. But the authority in the film is based in a lie. In spite of that, the authority is perceived as real by everyone involved.

Based on a true story, the film is set in the last two weeks of World War II. Willi Herold (Max Hubacker) is a deserter who barely escapes MPs. He exists by looting farms. When he comes upon a disabled car he finds an officer’s luggage and puts on the uniform and begins to take on the persona of an officer. Freytag (Milan Peschel), another soldier separated from his unit (or maybe another deserter), attaches himself to Herold as his driver and aide. When they come upon other soldiers checking papers, Herold acts aloof and claims to be on orders from Hitler himself. Although he has no proof, no one is willing to challenge him. Soon he gathers a group of soldiers (mostly other deserters) around him. He is essentially a con man who takes advantage of people’s fear.

Ironically, he is called on to deal with a deserter who has been caught looting. To prove his power he executes the deserter. That is the beginning of a spree that will become increasingly violent and sadistic. He and his cohort come to a detention camp filled with deserters. Even though the camp authorities have their doubts, Herold sets up his own brand of summary justice, killing scores with great cruelty. Later Herold and his band move to a nearby town where they continue their lawlessness in the name of the law.

Of course, as viewers we understand just how empty Herold’s authority is. Yet, for those he encounters, it is hard for them to doubt the things he says, even though he has no written proof of anything. Just because he wears that uniform and acts as though he has been given power by the highest authority, people will do as he commands.

However, from time to time we see Freytag, who often tries to stay in the background, as he watches Herold play out his role. Freytag, unlike the other soldiers following Herold, is disapproving of the cruelty. It may be that viewers will want to identify with Freytag and his sense of horror at what he sees happening. But the question the film wants to ask is to what extent do we also stand and watch, while doing nothing to stop what is obviously wrong?

Although it is important to note the historical context of the film, we should not simply think that the cruelty of the Third Reich would make this seem acceptable for the various people that encountered Herold. For the most part, the German people of that time were not much different from the people we encounter each day. They are all just trying to get through the ups and downs of life as we are. When something terrible takes place, we may be disgusted—perhaps even angry—at what we see taking place, but are hesitant to step in and challenge the authority of those doing such things. During the end credits, we see Herold and his gang of thugs in a modern setting, reminding us that this film speaks to today.

Photos courtesy of Music Box Films.

I, Tonya – Whose Truth?

by Leave a Comment

“I was loved for a minute, then I was hated.”

Figure skating is all about elegance and grace. So when in 1994 the sport took on a violent aspect with an attack on a top skater before the Olympics, it became one of the early examples of TV tabloid journalism. I, Tonya tells the story of Tonya Harding who was at the center of the controversy because her ex-husband Jeff Gillooly masterminded the attack on a rival skater. In the days and weeks that followed the story became more sensationalized by the day. Screenwriter/producer Steve Rogers has crafted a dark comedy from the strange, almost absurdist, true events. It is based in part on interviews Rogers did with Harding and Gillooly, now in their 40s. The widely different stories each told became the structure for the film.

The story follows the life of Harding (Margot Robbie) from childhood to the present day. Even before “The Incident”, she never really fit well into the skating world, in spite of her talent and skill. She came from an abusive household. Her mother LaVona Golden (Allison Janney) was both physically and emotionally violent. Her escape was to marry Gillooly (Sebastian Stan) at an early age. This too turned into a violent, abusive relationship. It should be pointed out that Harding was not just a victim, but could be violent herself. All of this contributed to a low self-image. At times, she felt like she deserved the abuse. And much of her competitiveness was an attempt to be loved.

Much of the humor of the film comes from the personalities. LaVona Golden is an especially over the top character (and played to the hilt by Janney). It’s hard to image a mother so cruel and crude, yet we can’t get enough of her on screen. Likewise, the relationship between Harding and Gillooly, often with sudden explosive violence, may seem too dark for humor, yet we can’t help but follow along because the story is told in such an appealing style.

The film takes its time getting to The Incident, but when it does make it into the story, it is the beginning of one of the all time great comedies of errors. When we speak of the media circus that developed because of it, circus is the appropriate word because the clowns take center stage. Again here, the story is told from different perspectives, so there is more than one version of what happened.

Since there are multiple versions of the same story, this becomes a study on how we can know the truth. The memories of what happened are so different that it is impossible to piece them together to form a clear picture of who was or was not involved. The tabloid journalism that latched on to this story only made the search for truth murkier. The 24-hour news cycle and its need to keep a story alive may actually make the truth harder to find. In a world where “fake news” is frequently charged and even outlandish ideas are given coverage in the name of “balance”, this story serves as a challenge for us to seek truth amid all the hoopla and distraction.

When I saw this film at AFI Fest, it played to a packed house. It wasn’t one of the films I was especially looking forward to but I found it enjoyable in the absurd humor and the idiocy of the characters. Though, when a few weeks later I saw a trailer in the theater, I thought to myself, “I wouldn’t want to see that.” So, perhaps if you’re put off by the trailer, you may want to consider that there is more here than the trailer suggests.

Photos courtesy of Neon.

The Zookeeper’s Wife – Providing Sanctuary

by Leave a Comment

“I don’t belong here. They don’t belong here. You don’t belong here.”

The Zookeeper’s Wife opens in an almost Edenic world. Jan (Johan Heldenbergh) and Antonina (Jessica Chastain) Zabinski live on the grounds of the Warsaw Zoo, where Jan is the head zookeeper. Their son sleeps with lion cubs. When Antonina bicycles around the zoo, a young camel runs along with her. It is a happy and carefree existence. Not quite carefree, because war is looming. The serpent of this Eden is Lutz Heck (Daniel Brühl), the visiting head of the Berlin Zoo. He is obviously taken with Antonina, but claims he isn’t involved in politics.

When Germany invades on September 1, 1938, beginning the Second World War, the zoo is bombed with the rest of Warsaw. Animals are loose and in fear. Many are killed. Soon Heck is back, in an SS uniform, to take control of the animals, to ship the best to Berlin (for “protection”) and to try to use the zoo’s bison to breed long extinct aurochs (a reminder of the Nazi’s concern with eugenics and scientific exploitation). But soon, the Germans are forcing Jews into the Ghetto, and perhaps worse fates await.

The Zabinskis at first secretly harbor Antonina’s best friend, but as the world inside the Ghetto gets worse, they ask the Germans for permission to use the zoo as a pig farm to feed troops, and to feed the pigs with garbage from the Ghetto. Each day Jan goes to pick up the garbage, and smuggle out some of the Jews who are given refuge in the zoo. Through the years, over 300 persons made their way to the safety of the zoo. The Zambiskis, of course, are risking their lives by doing this. They not only provided safety; they provided friendship and even a bit of culture. Each night after the German guards left the zoo, Antonina would play the piano to let those in hiding know they could come out. That time became almost like an evening salon of conversation and companionship.

The film is based on a book by Diane Ackerman, which is a more extensive telling of the Zabinskis’ true story. As is often the case, time constraints require that things are often left out in adaptations of books. Here, we get very brief glimpses of parts of the story, such as Antonina’s pregnancy and Jan’s going off to fight with the Resistance, leaving Antonina alone to deal with their guests.

The Zabinskis’ decision to harbor as many Jews as they could was a courageous act—and a very illegal one. They were well aware of the threat that the Germans represented—both to the Jews and to those who harbored them. Yet, for them, the humanity of their neighbors took precedence over the laws that history has shown to be abhorrent. The idea of offering sanctuary to those in danger has a long history—and continues to be a valid question for people today. We live in a world filled with refugees of various kinds. Many have a difficult time finding a safe and welcoming place. More and more nations are closing their borders to those in need—or seeking to deport those already here. Some—including many churches—are seeking ways to provide a haven for those in need and fear. Stories from the Holocaust, like this one, are a reminder of how important those havens are.

Available July 4 on Blu-ray, DVD, and On Demand; available now on Digital HD. Special features include deleted scenes, the making of the film, and a look at the Zabinski family. 

 

 

Queen of Katwe – Inspiring, but . . .

by Leave a Comment

“In chess, the small one can become the big one.”

Disney knows how to do inspirational stories. The latest is Queen of Katwe about a Ugandan chess prodigy who finds a way out of the slums of Kampala through the dedication of a man who reached out to impoverished children by teaching them the game.

Nine year old Phiona (Madina Nalwanga) spends her days selling vegetable in the streets of Kampala to help her mother (Lupita Nyong’o) provide for the family. School isn’t an option. Her future seems bleak indeed. One day she follows her brother to a church that hosts a youth sports outreach ministry. Part of that outreach is led by Robert Katende (David Oyelowo), an unemployed engineer, who himself achieved an education in spite of his coming from the slums. Robert strives to teach not just chess to the children, but also tries to give them a hope and vision of a better life. As Phiona advances in the world of chess, she also must deal with various struggles in her family life—often leading to times of despair.

queenofkatwe57b4d52ff2a07

Chess often serves as a metaphor of conquering life’s challenges. The film is rich in aphorisms such as “Sometimes the place you are used to is not the place you belong,” “You use your mind, make a plan, and you will find safe squares,” and “Do not be too quick to tip your king,” all of which speak more to Phiona’s personal struggles more than her chess playing.

It is worth noting that the church and faith has a role in the story. Robert is working with the church as he awaits a possible job that his education has prepared him for. Although it is a church ministry, we don’t see any religious teaching going on along with the chess. Yet, the implication is that there is more here than just the game. At the same time, after losing their home, Phiona’s family squats in the ruins of a burned out church. That less than perfect shelter is another interesting metaphor for the way God may seem to the young struggling girl. She wonders at one point if God really cares about her and her family. She certainly sees no clear evidence based on the events that befall them. So the church is both a physical shelter (although not a very good one) and the place that offers hope for finding more than her life has provided her. That ambivalence, I think, is a common experience of church—something that nourishes us, but we often fail to see its importance in day to day life.

queenofkatwe57b3934994b37

While Phiona’s story is indeed inspiring as we watch her become more confident in her game and in life, it may also seem a bit trite. Certainly she finds her path out of the poverty that has defined her life to this point, but it is such an individual journey that it becomes something of a Horatio Alger story. While she has help along the way, in the end we celebrate what Phiona has achieved by her dedication and work. She has found a way out of the slums, but what of all the others in the slums. A few other children also play chess and begin an education, but the social structures that allow such poverty continue untouched. That is often the flaw in stories such as this. One person’s success is worth celebration, but not by ignoring the roots of the problem that they have overcome.

Photos courtesy of Walt Disney Studios