The image conjured in most people’s minds at the mention of the ‘Wild West’ is that of cowboys and gun-slinging outlaws – almost always white men. Cowboys, as the name suggests, were experts in herding and caring for cattle. Historians estimate that, at the height of their time, <a href="https://www.smithsonianmag.com/history/lesser-known-history-african-american-cowboys-180962144/">1 in every 4 cowboys was Black</a>. Yet <a href="https://www.thirteen.org/wnet/ranchhouse/pop_blackcowboy.html">Black cowboys</a> are kept out of most of the narratives and lore of the American West today.
The appeal of the classic Western film for many people is the idea of justice. Westerns value honour, and the stories often depict one or several individuals seeking revenge or retribution against someone who has wronged them. The justice systems of today operate around abstract laws that are often inherently unjust, contrasting to what we find in the world of the Western, where the ‘heroes’ take the law into their own hands.
In almost every way except for the actors we see on screen, <a href="https://platformonline.uk/posts/our-critics-picks-for-the-bfi-london-film-festival-2021">The Harder They Fall</a> is a typical Western. The film opens with the protagonist Nat Love’s (Jonathan Majors) origin story, setting the scene for the adventure that’s about to unfold. After witnessing the brutal murder of his parents at the hands of outlaw Rufus Buck (Idris Elba) and his gang, Nat Love makes it his mission to exact revenge. Along the way we encounter numerous impressive characters, especially Stagecoach Mary (Regina King), a strong woman in her own right who also serves as the ‘damsel in distress’, and Cherokee Bill (LaKeith Stanfield), infamous for his quick-draw abilities and calm demeanour, to name a few.

Nat Love is one of the most famous Black cowboys, thanks to a memoir he wrote which cemented his legacy. The Life and Adventures of Nat Love (1907) describes how Love, born into slavery in Tennessee, headed West aged 14 and began working as a cowboy for large cattle operations in Texas and Arizona. Over the years he spent as a cowboy, Love drove cattle across the United States and down into Mexico. He writes about encountering a range of infamous figures of the old West on his travels (including Buffalo Bill and Jesse James) and stumbling into a number of thrilling situations, from being captured by Native Americans and escaping, to witnessing and participating in gunfights.
Though the veracity of some of the stories recounted in this memoir has been questioned by historians, it is one of the only first-hand accounts of a Black American cowboy from the late 19th century, thus incredibly valuable in recording the existence of Black Cowboys. Love quit the cowboy business in 1890 and his memoir was published in 1907. To this day, he remains a Black folk hero to many.
Director and co-writer Jaymes Samuel says the idea to make a Western came to him while strolling through Kilburn, London. Having grown up watching classic Westerns on the BBC, he became enamoured with the genre and wanted to tell a story that put Black cowboys at the forefront. In Samuel’s The Harder They Fall, Nat Love is described as an outlaw who targets other outlaws, and it becomes evident that he and the Nat Love of history share only a name and an era.

the-harder-they-fall-1

The Harder They Fall succeeds as a Western. Accompanied by an exciting <a href="https://open.spotify.com/album/3whjvbBxG7j2FfTImRdqBw?si=EcITQCqkQESH5cw4u64KUg">soundtrack</a> consisting of music from across the Black Diaspora, and filmed against stunning landscapes, the film is invigorating and seductive. I find myself unable to take my eyes off the screen. Having fallen for the allure of the old West myself earlier this year, it is fitting that the first proper Western film I see is one with all the visual energy I associate with the genre, but filled with faces like mine. I was engrossed by everything, from the range of distinct characters, to the costumes and the sharp-tongued dialogue. Everything about this film is enticing. Granted, the vastness of the story being told and the number of characters means that they are quite two-dimensional, though attempts are made to give some background and purpose to a few. The comic-book style of the action is, however, the main attraction. Though the pacing falls off slightly in the final third of the film, the meeting between Nat Love and Rufus Buck all but makes up for it, revealing a ‘truth’ which changes your perspective on the earlier events of the film.
Not a lot is known about the real Rufus Buck, other than that he and his gang went on a crime spree in 1895, attacking people indiscriminately on the Indian territory of the Arkansas and Oklahoma area. They were captured and hanged by law enforcement not long after. His character in the film is a notorious and ruthless outlaw with a dedicated gang. The story gives Buck two ‘shots’ at redemption, the first being early in the film when he and his gang take over a Black settlement and set their sights on buying it to give the citizens a fixed home, during a time when Black people were not allowed to settle anywhere for long. He attempts this with brutality and little mercy. Then there is his character&#8217;s origin story, only revealed in the final confrontation with Love.

This film would stand on two strong, Western legs even without using the names of real historical figures. The risk that audience members might confuse the story they see on screen with the lives these people lived is abated with a disclaimer before the film opens, but why use those names at all? Considering how the existence and contributions of Black cowboys is still mostly unknown, The Harder They Fall could bring these names into homes worldwide thanks to its Netflix distribution. The film will also introduce Black cowboys into the popular imagination, which is vital when too many of the Black stories told constrain us to a set of roles and particular narratives.
Nat Love’s first-hand account of life as a Black cowboy made him a hero to many, and his portrayal in The Harder They Fall will hopefully only extend this legacy and prompt more people to look into his vast and fascinating life. I enjoyed the fact that race was not the explicit point of the story, though there are subtle suggestions of its significance throughout. Films with majority Black casts and/or Black leads have become associated with narratives which centre racial trauma – as if joy, complexity and the full scope of life cannot be imagined for such characters. It is high time that this changes. In period films like The Harder They Fall, it is hard and disingenuous to dissociate entirely from race; but the film succeeds at acknowledging the history, without centring Black pain for the sake of it.
The Harder They Fall has everything that makes the Western genre so exciting: a compelling protagonist on a mission, beautiful imagery, exciting action, a sprinkling of romance and lots of music. An enthralling way to expand existing imaginations. In Westerns, justice is always served, a fantasy with never-ending appeal.

Harder-They-Fall-Lakeith-Stanfield

An enthralling depiction of social justice and retribution in the Old West blows apart the typical narratives of the Western and brings new possibilities to life.

The Harder They Fall: Reimagining Westerns for the Netflix generation

Farewell Amor is the debut feature from filmmaker Ekwa Msangi. The film explores how physical separation and the passing of time impacts people and relationships, as well as the tragedy of displacement and how to maintain a sense of self when, in order to survive, the best option might be to fit in.
Farewell Amor, directed and written by Msangi, begins with a family reuniting in the arrivals hall of a New York airport. After 17 years of separation, Walter (Ntare Guma Mbaho Mwine) is able to bring his wife Esther (Zainab Jah) and daughter Sylvia (Jayme Lawson) to New York City where he has been residing. The family became displaced at the end of a war (possibly the Angolan civil war though it’s never referred to by name). As Walter obtains asylum in the US, his family remains in Africa and seeks refuge in Tanzania. It takes almost two decades for the family to be reunited.

I speak with Msangi over Zoom in early December, the tail-end of an unexpectedly difficult year for many. The global pandemic may have overshadowed all other tragedies, but it has not diminished other global issues. More and more people globally are finding themselves displaced. Anti-immigrant sentiment remains a deplorable constant in the west. Farewell Amor touches on an aspect of immigration that isn’t given space in popular media, namely family separation and the lengthy ordeal that often precedes a reunion. “The reasons that [many displaced people’s] home countries are so unliveable has to do with a lot of [western] foreign policies to begin with,” Msangi states. “I don&#8217;t believe that there is any person anywhere in the world who would just prefer to leave their home and their loves and their families and everything they know, to go somewhere that&#8217;s cold and does not want them.”
Msangi tells me that the film is partly inspired by her aunt and uncle who married in Tanzania in the mid-90s. Soon after their wedding, Msangi’s uncle received a student visa for the US and left Tanzania with every intention of bringing his wife and, at that point, their five-month-old right after him. To this day, Msangi’s aunt and uncle have been stuck in an endless cycle of visa applications, lasting over two decades now. “I was inspired by this, ‘what if’ story,” Msangi recalls. “What if the visas are no longer the issue? I just had this image of my uncle at the arrivals hall at the airport, waiting for my aunt and my cousin. What would he say? What would he be thinking? Would he recognise them? How do you receive the love of your life, after all these years? And what would have changed in your life, too — what would you have to be sweeping away in order to make space for this family to arrive?”

farewell-amor-3

While viewing this film, I found myself reflecting on my family and our histories. I haven&#8217;t experienced exactly the type of separation we see in this film, though I&#8217;ve witnessed something similar in my extended family. My immediate family and I left Africa together. I have aunts, uncles and cousins that made the journey alone to different parts of the world where they&#8217;ve established themselves and a new life. Some family members are still unable to visit the homes they left for reasons that frustrate even the most patient. Immigration is an illogical phenomenon. Many rules and criteria change on the whims of anti-immigrant governments, while individuals wait for so long for the security and relief of certainty.
The longer you’re away, the harder it can be to go back. Perhaps it is easier to want to stay with the memory of “home” and family as it was, and to be hesitant about reuniting with a changed country and changed people. In Farewell Amor, we observe Walter adopt the customs of his new country and struggle to empathise with his wife Esther, who represents what he left behind. After being uprooted from her home and separated from her husband, Esther finds solace and community in the church. Her beliefs provide her with the security and safety she needs but are shown in moments to be at odds with her new adopted home and transformed husband.

People adapt and assimilate, maybe for survival or out of preference for a life different to the one they left. It is almost unavoidable, especially when many western countries enforce assimilation through law or make living difficult if you do not fit in. Culture and individuality are praised when used for entertainment or aesthetic reasons. But in the areas of life that impact livelihood like education and work, personal expression is often limited or punished. As people, we are naturally drawn to the path of least resistance; we can’t judge anyone for doing what they feel they need to do to survive.
Walter has changed in subtle ways, particularly in how he speaks and the food he prepares. Farewell Amor explores the very complex question of what happens when you’re reunited with a person whose memories of you ceased to change from the moment you left? Phone and video calls are too sporadic and distant to provide a complete picture of growth. When you’re not present for those changes a person undergoes with time, you cannot adapt to them. So the people you are reunited with are as familiar as they are strange.

How are strong bonds like those between husband and wife, child and parent impacted by physical separation? Especially when separation divides parties in different social and political environments that impact people’s outlook on life. Personal relationships are hard enough without the added obstacle of separation. Leaving for a life elsewhere is not as simple as raising the money and buying a ticket. Immigration officials and rules will see to that. Msangi points out that many people have approached her to say they did not know this before seeing the film. The formal processes for starting a new life elsewhere, or bringing family once you’ve successfully managed to obtain asylum, is a matter of producing a lot of paperwork and paying a lot of money. After all this, nothing is guaranteed. For many displaced people this formality isn&#8217;t an option. The need for safety is urgent. Many take dangerous and life-threatening routes to secure a better life.
Being a young person experiencing a move like the one in Farewell Amor in this day and age is particularly interesting. Sylvia is a hopeful character for me because she seems almost the most equipped to handle this big change, thanks to technology. The internet exposes and allows us to connect with cultures so different from our own via a few clicks. At best, we find ourselves engaging with art (particularly music) and customs or cultures we may never have interacted with otherwise. But if we do, we have the knowledge and insight to be respectful and participate. “I felt very connected to Sylvia&#8217;s character in terms of being in a new environment and the culture shock; of being a young person and trying to have your own voice, but not really knowing what your voice is yet,” Msangi explains. “For me [like Sylvia], dance and music was definitely a saving grace. It was a place where I could be really confident and be myself and show myself.”

In Farewell Amor, Msangi tells an important story about an African immigrant family. Despite the heavier implications of the film, it is hopeful and warm. The thing about family bonds, no matter what, is that people mostly find a way to reconnect regardless of the obstacles that may be in the way. “For me, it&#8217;s a pleasure to tell authentic stories about my people,” Msangi says. “The whole reason I became a filmmaker was because I grew up in a time on the African continent where I never got to see images of me or the people around me or anything that was familiar. It was all imported stories about other folks. And that didn&#8217;t make any kind of sense to me, because I was surrounded by fun, exciting, interesting, creative people all day long.”
“We&#8217;re more than just trials and tribulations. The idea of telling stories about our people, not just on the continent, but everywhere in the diaspora, to me is super interesting and exciting.”
Farewell Amor (2020) is available to stream online through <a href="https://mubi.com/films/farewell-amor?gclid=CjwKCAiA25v_BRBNEiwAZb4-ZfdHblijbIbdgBlUeOxLfYvDJIBKGArUM3T_FhQrEAjX2tB6GPfejBoCD7YQAvD_BwE">Mubi</a> and is also available on <a href="https://www.google.co.uk/url?sa=t&amp;rct=j&amp;q=&amp;esrc=s&amp;source=web&amp;cd=&amp;ved=2ahUKEwjYlLi82u7tAhX1uXEKHQk2BCUQFjAAegQIAhAC&amp;url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.netflix.com%2Ftd-en%2Ftitle%2F81336593&amp;usg=AOvVaw2lJc7kuPOnaZm3n-JSCca7">Netflix</a> in Africa.
<pre>Photo Credit: IFC Films / Farewell Amor</pre>

farewell-amor

Our writer speaks to Ekwa Msangi about her debut feature Farewell Amor, which explores the pressure of immigration on families, including the loss of a sense of self and home.

Farewell Amor: Fitting In and Back Together Again

ROCKS, created collaboratively by a mostly female cast and creative team, is a film that leaves a permanent impression. ROCKS’ impact is two-fold. Firstly, it is a story full of hope and joy that captures the essence of friendship. Secondly, it is a film made with immense generosity – a collaborative endeavour that everyone who took part in is proud of and sets a precedent for other filmmakers.
I was drawn to ROCKS from the moment I saw the poster. I saw myself and my city and that was enough to convince me that I had to see this film. The diversity of the young actors is remarkable only because it’s so rarely seen in film, not because it’s an unusual sight for any Londoner. I would be remiss not to mention what an important film ROCKS is for this very reason: ROCKS is, for many women like myself, the first time we’ll be seeing ourselves on the big screen.
Set in East London, the film follows teenager Rocks, a young girl with big dreams of starting her own make-up business and a great set of friends. Her world changes when one day she returns home from school to find that her mother is gone, leaving some money and a note saying she’s sorry.
Director Sarah Gavron and Producer Faye Ward discussed the idea of making a film with and about teenage girls, and recognised early on that such a film would need to be created in a collaborative way. The young cast, who had the experience of being teenage girls, and other creatives&#8217; voices, influenced the filmmaking process. I spoke with Anu Henriques, Associate Director of ROCKS, who formed was involved from the very early stages of the film.
“ROCKS is one story of hundreds of thousands of stories that we could have told that centres young Black and brown women from London,” Anu remarks. “Hopefully people walk away [from seeing the film] feeling encouraged to tell their own story and question why it has taken this long for us to have our stories told in this way.”
The creative team initially set out on an extensive development stage which involved research and work-shopping with young Londoners across girls’ comprehensives and youth hubs. It was in the midst of this process that writer Teresa Ikoko shared a story idea that resonated with the team and young cast. Ikoko describes the story as a love letter to her older sister and the Black women she was raised with. On sharing her idea with the creative team and the cast, Anu recalls, “[Teresa] shared it in such a generous way that meant that we were able to kind of bring our own love letters to the table as well.” And so, a project they could take towards production was born. Ikoko, along with writer Claire Wilson, set to work on the story arc of the film.
The entire creative team had the chance to share their opinions and ideas for different scenes. “In some of the workshops we ran we would stick up every single story beat on the walls,” Anu recounts. “I imagine this is one of the most nerve-wracking things as a writer, to kind of put your heart on a wall and then have people pick it apart and put it back together again. But [Ikoko and Wilson] were very generous in offering that up and creating a space where everyone felt like their voice was valued and their voice mattered and what they brought to the table was valued.”

This approach is radical for many reasons. The film industry is hierarchical and many openly sneer at the idea of any person with an assigned ‘role’ stepping out of their responsibilities and having input elsewhere. The ROCKS team instead insisted on the cast and creatives sharing their thoughts. The results are so clearly held with pride by everyone involved in the creation. As Anu says, “It was a brilliant challenge, trying to flatten the hierarchy in those creative storytelling spaces.”
“There’s a real issue in the industry of recognition of labour and recognition of expertise,” Anu continues. “What I hope is that the film, alongside all the other conversations around the narrative and themes, will also spark a conversation about how creatives and how storytellers are credited in those spaces. I hope that, in the future, we can find ways to be even more accurate in the crediting, whether that means being credited as a collective or something like that.”
The outstanding central cast of young women in the film mostly consists of first-time actors: some came out of the work-shopping stage and others from open auditions. The actors established friendships with one another prior to filming and as a result have incredible on-screen chemistry. “We had done such a long period of workshops with the young women that we were working with that, by the time we got onto set, there was such familiarity and such trust between the creative team and the cast. The young women improvised a lot of the dialogue on set, and they really guided some of the scenes as well,” Anu tells me.
The unconventional making and casting of the film required a thoughtful and deliberate approach to hiring the crew. The creative team were keen to ensure that the young actors would be able to imagine themselves behind the camera as well as in front. “So there were choices that were made to ensure that the crew and the HODs [Heads of Department] were reflective of the women in the film.”
Who owns a story? Who has the right to tell a certain story? These are questions that creep up often with regards to projects that elevate experiences from marginalised communities. Gavron and Ward recognised early on that the only way to authentically tell a story about young women from East London is to invite that group to the storytelling table. “So much more can be gained from collaborative spaces, I think, in storytelling, because the value of bringing different people to the table, the value of hearing different voices is always going to add to a story rather than take away from it,” Anu adds.

rocks-by-sarah-gavron_image-3_-reduced

ROCKS by Sarah Gavron_image 3_ reduced

Most films do not show the world as it is and there are so many stories that still need to be told. Watching ROCKS was the first time that I really felt viscerally what representation can mean to a person, old or young – what it actually feels like to behold a character who looks like you or has lived a life like you. It is an inspiring and validating feeling.
Towards the end of our chat, I quickly ask Anu her thoughts on the recent announcement made by the Academy that filmmakers will have to meet a detailed inclusion and diversity guideline, starting 2024, in order for their work to be eligible for a Best Picture prize. “I’m a full believer that diversity is possibly the easiest thing you could do – the laziest thing you can do in some ways,” Anu comments. “If we’re talking about infrastructural change, diversity is the tip of the iceberg. It’s not the bulk of the problem by any means. If we’re really talking about how you change storytelling, how you change who’s represented in storytelling, how you change who is awarded for storytelling, right, you need to really unpack the whole infrastructure and not just need to have a certain number of Black and brown voices behind or in front of the camera.”
At the heart of ROCKS is a universal theme that will resonate with everyone: the power of friendship and hope. It is difficult not to root for these young people from the get-go. The unabashed displays of youth, the confidence, the happiness. ROCKS is a feat and a reminder that we’ll all be alright because the kids are alright. And the collaborative process behind its making sets a precedent for future filmmaking.
ROCKS is showing in select cinemas nationwide from 18 September 2020. Book your tickets <a href="https://rocks.film/">here</a>.
&nbsp;
<pre>Photo Credit: ROCKS by Sarah Gavron</pre>

ROCKS by Sarah Gavron_image 2

A radical approach to filmmaking by women creatives has produced an authentic and moving British film in which some Londoners will see themselves represented for the first time.

Halima A Hassan