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Release
date:
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Kerala: March 23, 2018
Delhi: April 6, 2018
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Director:
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Zakariya
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Cast:
Language:
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Soubin Shahir,
Samuel Abiola Robinson, Savithri Shreedharan, Sarasa Balussery,
Navas Vallikkunnu, K.T.C. Abdulla
Malayalam
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Samuel Abiola
Robinson is a Nigerian footballer recruited by a club in Kerala’s Malappuram
district. Although Africans are a familiar sight on sports fields here, Sudani from Nigeria makes it clear that locals
have limited knowledge about the continent and are unaccustomed to social encounters
with its people. How unaccustomed becomes evident when Samuel is variously
described as Nigerian, Ugandan and Sudanese/Sudani, that last label inspiring the
nickname Sudu. Hence the film’s title.
When Samuel/Sudu is
injured in an accident, his already cash-strapped club manager Majid Rahman is
forced to rope in his own mother to nurse the young man back to health at home.
As he lies bed-ridden in Majid’s house, the affable Sudu becomes a curiosity among
the local populace. Sudani from Nigeria
stays with the two men through Sudu’s recovery and Majid’s professional and personal
battles.
Kerala’s passion for
football provides the backdrop to their relationship, but this is not so much a
sports film as a slice of life in the state and an ode to basic human decency.
Financial compulsions
are what initially prompt Majid to host Sudu, but as time goes by a genuine
tenderness develops between the manager, his work associates, friends, family and
the foreigner in their midst. Even the inquisitiveness of strangers turns to
concern as everyone gradually becomes invested in Sudu’s welfare.
The friendly
equation that evolves between Sudu and the Malayalis around him is the most winning
aspect of this film, especially coming as it does at a time when inhumanity is
rearing its head aggressively across the globe.
Director Zakariya
has adopted a naturalistic style of storytelling for his debut feature. So convincing are the
goings-on on screen that this feels less like drama designed for celluloid and
more like life transposed on to it. So credible is the cast that if Soubin
Shahir, who plays Majid, were not a star, it might have been assumed that all the
artistes had been plucked out of reality and planted in this narrative.
Shahir is in spiffing form as Majid,
representing Everyman in Kerala society with such aplomb that this could well be
a live telecast from a randomly chosen period with a random sample of the
population in God’s Own Country.
Nigerian actor Samuel
Abiola Robinson (who shares his name with the character he plays) is unaffected
before the camera. He has a tough task at hand since the language barrier means
Sudu has far less dialogues than Majid, and since his characterisation is the
weakest part of the screenplay. The actor’s boyish charm overrides these
hurdles though.
The scene-stealers
of the entire loveable cast are theatre artistes Savithri Shreedharan and Sarasa Balussery playing Majid’s
darling mother Jamila and her best friend Beeyumma respectively. Their
spot-on dialogue delivery, flawless timing and the way they mine their innate, earthy
charm, are nothing short of acting genius.
The last time I
remember experiencing such a high from the casting of a film was when Angamaly Diaries was released in 2017.
These life-like performances
would not have been possible without the brilliance of Muhsin Parari and
Zakariya’s screenplay aided by Noufal Abdullah’s sharp editing.
It would be remiss of
me though not to point out that the writing airbrushes reality as it marches
purposefully towards its goal of restoring faith in humanity. We are a racist,
colour-prejudiced nation that is cruel even to dark-skinned fellow Indians.
Kerala is no different in this respect. Yet in Sudani from Nigeria, reactions to Sudu are confined to the
wide-eyed curiosity of innocent country folk.
That attitude was
believable in last year’s Godha where
the outsider being welcomed was a light-skinned, light-eyed north Indian
arriving in Kerala, not a black African. Do Jamilas and Majids exist? Of course
they do. Let us be frank though: if such characters in real life do not have
their own biases to overcome on meeting a Sudu, they would certainly have to
contend with the biases of others. Sudani
would have been a more accurate film if it had taken this truth into
account.
It would have also
been more well-rounded if the incredible depth that the screenplay brings to
the Indian characters was present in the writing of their Nigerian friend. We
are given details of Sudu’s background through a flashback in his voice when
the camera actually travels to Africa, but that is not what depth of
characterisation is about.
At the end of Sudani from Nigeria, I felt I knew Majid,
Jamila, Beeyumma and their whole gang as if they were my old pals. Sudu
remained a uni-dimensional concept though, a result, no doubt, of the writers
using him almost solely as a device via which to tell a tale of rustic Indian virtue.
I kept waiting for him to cease to be an outsider in the filmmaker’s gaze, but
that does not happen.
Parari and Zakariya
obviously do have the nuance and skill to cover these angles without diluting
their sunshiney worldview. Note the statement they make on communal harmony
throughout Sudani from Nigeria
without spelling it out in black and white. Or how they paint an endearing
portrait of a Muslim community – sorely needed as Islamophobia engulfs India –
without overtly stressing their religious identity. How they foreground a
female friendship, that too between two elderly women, on a cinematic landscape
known for male-bonding flicks, the marginalisation of women in general and
ageist apathy towards older women. Or how they turn the evil stepmother stereotype
on its head.
In fact, the
unobtrusiveness of its multiple political assertions is one of the nicest
things about Sudani from Nigeria.
Despite his vast,
transcontinental canvas, Zakariya
manages to give Sudani an air of
delicate smallness that is essential to maintaining its sense of warmth and intimacy.
This would not have been possible without director of
photography Shyju Khalid who manages an admirable balancing act here, giving us
ample evidence of the region’s natural beauty even while steering clear of
showy camerawork, tempting though it must have been considering the spectacular
setting.
All these elements
combined make Sudani from Nigeria a heartwarming
journey. This is a wryly funny, sad film about unlikely friendships and empathy
for another.
Parari and Zakariya
have mastered the art of laughing with a
community instead of at them. The
manner in which the people mingle and mangle Malayalam and English in their bid
to converse with Sudu is utterly hysterical. Never though do the writers adopt a
patronising tone towards these characters.
The comical fallout
of communication and miscommunication might have gotten tiring after a while if
that is all there was to Sudani from
Nigeria. Thankfully not. The film is about how well-intentioned folk will
always find a way around language barriers and a reminder that human goodness
has survived centuries of batterings.
(Spoiler alert) Nothing underlines this point
more beautifully than Jamila’s insistence on conducting some sort of memorial when
Sudu’s relative passes away in Nigeria, and her refusal to relent when Majid argues
that they are Muslim whereas Sudu is Christian and therefore their rituals
would be different. The old lady’s intention – to help Sudu heal – and Sudu’s acceptance
of her kindness instead of getting bogged down by their religious differences,
translates into one of the most serene, life-affirming passages to be seen on
film. (Spoiler alert ends)
In so many ways, Sudani from Nigeria is a soothing balm
for the soul in our fractured world.
Rating
(out of five stars): ***
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CBFC Rating (India):
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U
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Running time:
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123 minutes
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This review has also been published on Firstpost:
Poster
courtesy: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sudani_from_Nigeria
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