‘Ancestral Visions of the Future’ Review: Lemohang Mosese’s Heavy-Hearted but Fiercely Imaginative Homecoming

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In his opening narration, filmmaker Lemohang Mosese expresses that “Ancestral Visions of the Future” is both a tribute to cinema and a heartfelt homage to his mother. This sentiment is evident throughout the movie, which is filled with poignant dedications to both his mother and his native land. As a child, Mosese was separated from his mother when she lived in Europe for part of that time, and during his own adulthood, he felt estranged from Lesotho due to his exile on the continent. The film itself can be seen as an ode to cinema, not because it’s labeled as such, but because it embodies the essence of cinema in its most captivating and visually rich form, allowing viewers to draw their own interpretations between visual and auditory elements.

In this situation, the sound primarily consists of a monologue by Mosese, but Diego Noguera’s tense, metallic, atonal score and sound design occasionally interrupt. Mosese’s words are both poetic and heavily essayistic, providing the audience with numerous narrative and thematic hints. However, these words may not always have a direct connection, if any, to the highly symbolic, richly layered visual compositions on screen. At times, this text is so literary and verbose that it can even cause Mosese himself to stumble as a narrator.

The movie blends autobiographical insights, fictional portrayals by others, documentary elements, fiction, and art installations to delve into both Mosese’s personal sense of estrangement as an African artist in Berlin and the broader, evolving state of his homeland. In these wordless moments, it offers tranquil spaces for reflection.

The excessive dialogue in this movie makes it less accessible compared to its predecessor, “This Is Not a Burial, It’s a Resurrection,” from 2020 which was more straightforward and narrative-focused. However, after a prestigious premiere at the Berlinale Special section this year, festival organizers and distributors who prefer experimental films will find the new movie compelling due to its strong sensory and political impact. It might also be intentional that the film is verbose – a bold expression of a voice that has been overlooked for a long time within the Black community.

As I navigate through this narrative, a recurring sight unfolds before me – an expansive swath of deep-red fabric, basking under the southern African sun, seemingly woven into the Lesotho terrain much like Christo’s installations. In certain scenes, it even adorns the streets of a quaint market town. This vivid image seems to symbolize not only the bloodshed that has stained the country’s past (as a territory marked by British imperialism and Afrikaner apartheid neighboring South Africa) but also the ongoing violence within its borders today.

At one instance, the thread unerringly links to Manthabiseng (Siphiwe Nzima), a character modeled after a real-life woman who met her tragic end at the hands of an angry mob from her Basotho community in 1991, following an oversight about her child stealing in a local shop. In another scene, this ominous path originates from the wreckage of a BMW 325iS, a vehicle that in the past was linked to gang violence in the region – elsewhere depicted speeding and skidding on dusty roads, serving as eerie omens amidst peaceful rural landscapes.

In this story, Manthabiseng and Sobo, a street puppeteer and herbalist, are two characters whom Mosese subtly relates his personal feelings about his homeland. While Manthabiseng remains unspecified, Sobo is thought to be an interpretation of Mosese himself. The actions of Sobo, such as his puppet shows and herbal remedies, aim to instruct and mend the lives of those around him. This devotion towards Lesotho and its people might stir some sense of guilt within Mosese, who now feels disconnected living abroad but no longer fully at home in his birthplace. The movie hints at a shack built for his family, constructed from corrugated iron on the outskirts of town, yet we never see it. It could be that this dwelling no longer exists or maybe the filmmaker avoids confronting his past so directly.

In this movie, the idyllic setting is never spared from intense suffering and struggle, as evidenced by numerous scenes of an old man and a young child toiling the land so strenuously that their bodies seem to blend with the earth. Mosese and his cinematographer partner Philip Leteka shoot the scenery with the same blend of harshness and vibrancy seen in “This is Not a Burial,” with the red fabric frequently appearing across shots, contrasting against the expansive blue sky and fresh green of the farmland. The filmmaker asserts that Lesotho remains the most perilous country in Africa; the fabric serves as a network connecting victims and perpetrators, weaving the population into one vast, festering injury.

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2025-02-23 17:46