“On Becoming a Guinea Fowl”. An hour and a half on the edge of the seat

Although the slogan “a new voice in cinema” appears practically every time a successful debut hits the festivals, sometimes the use of this formula is more justified. This was the case with the premiere of Rungano Nyoni‘s 2017 film, “I Am Not a Witch” – the British director of Zambian origin. We had to wait until this year for her second film, which verifies to what extent her feminist drama in the climate of magical realism signals the opening of a strong and important debut for African cinema. This year, Nyoni presented her second feature-length film, “On Becoming a Guinea Fowl,” in the Cannes section Un Certain Regard, and it has now reached Wrocław’s New Horizons, aligning perfectly with this year’s trend of African New Waves.

In her debut, Nyoni tackled the potent topic of witchcraft, or rather accusations of it in traditional East African cultures. Although the realistic aspect of potential witchcraft was strongly emphasized, the story of a girl accused by her community of being the titular witch provided a certain fantastical-magical buffer for the social theme. In “On Becoming a Guinea Fowl,” while the director remains faithful to the convention of magical realism, there are no such safety valves, entering a much more direct polemic with the social structures of her native region. This time, too, she waits quite a while before revealing what the film is about, in the first act playing heavily with a surreal starting point. And it is quite spectacular and intriguing – Shula, returning from a party at night (incidentally sharing the name with the protagonist of “I Am Not a Witch”), encounters the body of a man on the road, who turns out to be her uncle. The absurdity of finding a relative’s corpse in the middle of the night and in the middle of nowhere, the protagonist’s futuristic costume, and the grotesque dance of examination, phone calls, and annoying cousins’ meetings we see in the first sequence, effectively introduce us to the surreal, intriguing, but also threatening atmosphere of the film. Then, as with the masters of thrillers, the tension only grows.

In “On Becoming a Guinea Fowl,” not much happens in terms of classical action. Apart from the scene of finding the body, the lion’s share of the film takes place during the mourning and funeral ceremonies, which for Shula and her cousins prove to be an overwhelmingly hostile and difficult environment to navigate. The entire drama of the film unfolds in rituals, social conventions, and dialogues, gradually revealing the character of the deceased and his impact on the protagonists, as well as the consequences for each of their lives. Men are almost absent in Nyoni’s film, but the specter of their power constantly hovers over everything the women do and experience. This patriarchal deadlock and the almost absolute impossibility of breaking the vicious circle of violence and silence build the dense atmosphere of “On Becoming a Guinea Fowl,” which, despite its clear social grounding, Nyoni directs like a horror film in the vein of the brand A24. As a result, for an hour and a half, we sit on the edge of our seats, absorbing the toxic atmosphere of the Zambian wake, with all the brutality and eeriness of the local culture. The formal means employed by the British-Zambian director are chosen to emphasize the ominous nature of the situation, suggesting dark undertones.

In his recent film “Lingui,” Sub-Saharan master Mahamat-Saleh Haroun told of female trauma, concluding it with a message about the power of sisterhood, which was as uplifting as it was kitschy. In Rungano Nyoni’s film, there is no such consolation – reconciliation and catharsis occur only on a private micro-scale, while from the perspective of the entire community, understanding and comfort are just more rituals. The only way out of the cycle of violence may be the titular escape into magical thinking, folk esotericism, which envelops the world presented in “On Becoming a Guinea Fowl.” Continuing themes from her debut, Nyoni suggests that the ominous spirit world reflects a cruel reality, and at some point, it provides the only possibility of escape. A little comforting thought, but the cultural criticism that Nyoni practices in her films is not meant to console. The art that has succeeded in this case is wrapping the somber reflection in an intriguing film form, providing a compelling vehicle for the author’s message. Symbolically, she takes on the role of the titular guinea fowl, with a rough chant warning of danger on the savanna – becoming a guinea fowl equates to taking on the role of an unpleasant whistleblower, who is unlikely to expect applause.