It is a subject that attracts many a filmmaker. In turn, it is a subject that attracts many a film-watcher. And with the anniversary of the Sophiatown forced removals taking place next month, it is a subject that could not be more topical.
Apartheid: South Africa’s tortured past. A past that has provided authors and celluloid storytellers with the tales of the people who suffered and survived. A past that provided London-based director Pascale Lamche with the premise for her film Sophiatown, opening on February 4. It aims to tell the tale of the inhabitants of this “island township”, an area where black South Africans could own freehold rights to land. In Sophiatown, Lamche wants to capture the spirit of the place and of the time.
The film sets out to paint the scene of life in Sophiatown before the cruelty of torn-apart homes and separated families. But it is not so much about the place of Sophiatown as it is about the history of apartheid. And rightly so, for a history of Sophiatown is intrinsically linked to a history of apartheid. The challenge, then, is to distil pieces of apartheid’s history, to tell the tales we have not heard before, in ways that make it easier to comprehend, to understand, to be disgusted by the magnitude of the sins.
Music is but one route that has often been explored to do this. It was not too long ago that we witnessed Amandla: A Revolution in Four-Part Harmony and it won’t be much longer before Drum comes to the big screen too, with its focus on the musicians that filled the pages of the popular magazine.
While Sophiatown brings together heavyweights in the form of the film’s main characters, it does not offer much in the way of new stories. Sure, one likes to hear Hugh Masekela and Abdullah Ibrahim — as always eloquent and emotive — and it is indeed a treat to have Dolly Rathebe recorded as she recollects memories, before her fateful passing. But what of ‘Big Voice’ Jack, one of the many musicians whose voices we do not hear? Lamche allows him and Pat Matshikiza to play their music for us, but we do not get to hear their versions of the story. Perhaps if we’d had the chance to hear the other voices, the ones that banged the drums, blew on the penny whistle, played the piano keys, all voices of the non-singers, if you will, then we may have had a different tale to hear, and watch.
While Sophiatown may not tell a new tale, it does give some fine concert footage, especially of artists who played together in the past, reunited for the film today. Also, it does not over-romanticise the area. In fact, it is the mention of the gangs and clothing that marked them that give us a glimpse into a part of Sophiatown not as well known as the music. Sadly, this aspect is not explored as much as one would have liked.
Perhaps the film’s ultimate highlight — and drawing card — is Nelson Mandela narrating the politics of the area. In doing so, he lends the significance of the township in western Jo’burg to the film. Led by the hero of all heroes, Sophiatown will no doubt be used in the days to come as a reminder of our horrid past — perhaps not the best kind — but a reminder nonetheless.