A pertinent fact about the little-known African bird known as the guinea fowl is that they have a unique, loud call that can be heard at quite a range, not only amongst their own kind, but also among all of the other animals within earshot. That can prove quite valuable both for the members of their own flock and for all other nearby vulnerable creatures when predators approach. While that may sound like useless trivia to some, it’s a highly relevant metaphorical observation about the underlying narrative in this third feature effort from Zambian writer-director Rungano Nyoni. While driving home from a dinner party late at night on a remote rural highway, Shula (Susan Chardy) comes upon the dead body of her Uncle Fred (Roy Chisha) splayed out on the road. Somewhat surprisingly, she seems largely unaffected by what most would see as a shocking discovery. She calmly reports the incident to authorities and returns home, where she finds her relatives have begun preparing the residence for a traditional funeral gathering. Shula remains remarkably composed through all this, too, despite the many disruptions going on around her, especially incessant overblown outpourings of grief. Her relatives are somewhat offended by Shula’s nonchalant behavior, upset that she doesn’t show more remorse about her uncle’s demise and isn’t particularly respectful of their arguably overwrought mourning rituals. But, as a modern professional woman, Shula is not one to readily give in to these outdated conventions and exaggerated displays of hysteria, regardless of how time-honored and widely accepted they might be. What’s more, as the story plays out, the reasoning behind Shula’s cool demeanor becomes even more apparent: She hadn’t spoken to Fred in years and wasn’t on good terms with him – and for good reason. And, as she soon comes to discover through revealing conversations with relatives like her cousins Nsansa (Elizabeth Chisela) and Bupe (Esther Singini), those reasons become even clearer, making it apparent that Fred was arguably someone unworthy of the outpouring of angst directed his way. To make matters worse, Shula also sees that her family is just as culpable for the shamefulness behind the concealment of the many dirty little (and not so little) secrets that surface, terrible truths that have been long buried under successive layers of denial and shifted blame. Indeed, if family is supposedly everything, these are relatives with whom I’d rather have no contact. As a consequence, this is the kind of film that could easily prompt viewers to become justifiably outraged while watching it, both for the damning revelations that emerge, as well as its disturbingly frank portrayal of the deplorable treatment women are sadly accorded in this culture. Interestingly enough, however, the film manages to present this unsettling story with a deft fusion of drama and dark comedy (which may not seem quite so funny when all is said and done), coupled with tinges of surrealism (some of which work, some of which don’t). Its greatest strength, though, lies in its message about the need for more of us to behave like the guinea fowl when circumstances warrant. To be sure, predators come in all forms, some of whom walk on four legs and others of whom only need two.
