A new mandate for Caribbean film

Dara E Healy

“Ce pays, c’est une petit famille

La famille, c’est tout ce qu’on a

Il faut la protéger

This country, is a little family

Family, that’s all we have

We have to protect it”

­– From Zion, a film by Nelson Foix

THERE were no loud explosions. No decoding of complicated bomb sequences with ten seconds to spare before the annihilation of, well, everything. There were, however, heart-pumping chases in dirty alleyways, against the backdrop of a city under siege. There were raw confrontations between gang leaders, and between a father and his son. There was carnival and mysticism.

Zion, the choice by Asha Lovelace and her team for the inaugural Caribbean Film Festival, led the audience through an emotional hurricane. The film, with dialogue almost entirely in Guadeloupean creole (or patois as we say) raised key concerns, not just for Guadeloupeans, but for Caribbean people everywhere.

Anti-colonial thinkers and activists were clear that language often functioned as a divisive force in our region. Decades ago, George Lamming spoke of the urgent need to reform school curricula with a focus on language, because “every five, six, seven-year-old should be trilingual, learning English, French and Spanish.” Regional governments ignored the counsel of Lamming and others, so today, English serves to separate rather than unify us as a region.

This is one of the themes that stood out to me, but it was not the main goal of writer and director Nelson Foix. For him and his talented cast, it was important to show a perspective of Guadeloupe that dispelled politically correct, tourism-influenced images of sandy beaches and happy citizens. In an interview, he revealed that he filmed much of Zion not far from where he lives. As he pointed out, his films “represent the Guadeloupe that I know. The Guadeloupe that I see, that I lived, that I have experienced...”

In 2024, uprisings in Martinique and Guadeloupe – both French overseas territories – highlighted persistent economic inequity and general quality of life issues. For instance, in an early scene in the film, Chris, the lead actor, is forced to bathe with a bottle of water. He lives in a dirty high-rise building, what we call "plannings," in a community reminiscent of places in East Port of Spain, Belmont or Laventille.

The gritty surroundings are the backdrop for other, more painful stories. Chris rides his motorbike, sells drugs and lists women in his phone as Bitch 1, 2, 3 into the double figures. Misogyny aside, this movie is about the limited choices that young people in underserved communities face. It also delves into the difficult topics of prostitution, drug abuse and absentee parents, realities that too many young people, whether in Guadeloupe, across the region or right here in TT, face.

All of this was too much to explain to one of the audience members who told me that he wanted to see more positive portrayals of African people. I understood that his perspective may have been moulded by a Western, neo-colonial world view that prefers positivity over realism. Yet, harsh truths face us each time a schoolchild puts another student in hospital, every time a parent leaves a child at home to go out liming, every time a baby is sexually abused.

Our society is facing an existential crisis that incarcerating more young people, greater policing or easier access to guns will not alleviate. These are some of the realities that Zion forces us to deal with, in all their rawness and complexity.

Critically, the power of music, carnival and spirituality are interwoven throughout the piece, stitching the action and the evolution of the characters together. These Caribbean elements are unapologetically part of the unfolding of the story. They emphasise that our people already have a creative aesthetic that is powerful and relevant to our historical experiences. Zion helps us to feel confident to pursue our own rules of film-making.

The Caribbean Film Festival offers possibilities for knowledge-sharing and empowering our region through film. However, this powerful medium is also about social transformation. Movements for social change are uncompromising, often messy. Zion reminds us that our societies are still in a great deal of pain as we struggle with the enduring impact of toxic, divisive histories.

Caribbean films highlight and reveal our truths. Sometimes the truth hurts, but pain can be a perceptive teacher and a powerful guide for the future.

Dara E Healy is a performing artist and founder of the Idakeda Group, a cultural organisation dedicated to empowering communities through the arts