Who knew that a film could ruffle so many feathers while remaining under the radar? Meet "The African Desperate," a 2022 film directed by Martine Syms, a bold tale that gives traditional narratives a run for their money. This unfiltered, audacious masterpiece takes place over 24 hours in the life of Palace Bryant, a young black woman navigating the high-strung, self-indulgent world of an MFA program. It’s as though Syms decided to set up a mirror, not just to academia, but to society at large, allowing the cracks to show. Stirring up profound questions about art, race, and identity, the film is a glaring reminder of the absurdity some call reality.
The protagonist, Palace, is caught in a final hazing ritual in upstate New York, a cloistered, leafy world of performative solidarity and doting condescension. The plot might initially suggest just another coming-of-age narrative, but Syms aggressively shoves gritty realism in your face like a cold splash of water. The film captures a single day in the life of Palace; but oh, what a day it is! From faculty obsession over her work's ‘authenticity’ to classmates who manage to blend virtue signaling with obliviousness, Palace's journey is a biting indictment of the cultural charade.
Palace battles the stereotypes of what it means to be a young black artist in America. And yet, despite being tethered to her identity by the expectations of others, her struggle is a universal one—a rebellion against being pigeonholed. Syms delivers a cinematic punch that should make any thinking person pause and reflect. What's disconcerting, however, is how effectively the movie encapsulates the staggering navel-gazing rampant in certain political and cultural circles. They tirelessly champion diversity and inclusivity, all the while limiting the very voices they claim to empower.
A significant portion of the film unfolds during a mind-numbing graduation party where the artistic elite gather to pat themselves on the back for their enlightened selves. Here, while Palace weathers the gauntlet of interrogations that vacillate between mock concern and outright ridicule, the reality of such environments gets exposed in an uncomfortably raw light. Credit to Syms for pulling no punches—these are sharp critiques that should have anyone with a modicum of common sense nodding in agreement.
What really sets "The African Desperate" apart is its refusal to coddle the audience. However, the film doesn't hand you easy solutions on a gilded platter either. Instead, it forces the viewers to confront their biases, assumptions, and maybe even take stock of the bubbles they live in. And in doing so, Syms elegantly skewers the art world—a sphere that zealously preaches change but deviously clings to the status quo.
The dialogues in the film are a revelation, painted with authentic disillusionment. Palace’s interactions are often uncomfortable and spiky, a testament to her hunt for personal meaning amidst unapologetic superficiality. The profs and classmates swirl around her like a cacophonic symphony of misguided intellect. Syms doesn’t offer respite but instead morphs these encounters into a vivid performance art, underlining an ironic truth—hot air often garners more applause than genuine substance.
You might think Hollywood would give something like "The African Desperate" a hero's welcome, given its bold themes and the director's command of craft. Yet, the discourse surrounding the film remains surprisingly muted, suggesting a selective willingness to critically engage with content beyond token gestures. It seems the appetite for nuanced conversations can be rather fickle.
This film emerges as both a novelty and a necessity: a cultural touchstone that doesn’t shy from pressing humanity’s raw nerve. Martine Syms' creative knife carves through pretensions with surgical precision, reminding everyone—conservatives and fence-sitters alike—that honesty isn’t just refreshing, it’s imperative. "The African Desperate" serves both as a mirror and a window into what we often choose to ignore while engaged in today’s socio-cultural spheres.
Syms is not merely exposing hypocrisy, but challenging us to dismantle the cumbersome idols of self-aggrandizing victimhood and enforced homogeneity. The film wraps up with no neat bow. Instead, it confronts viewers with an unsettling truth: while identity may be a common currency, individual humanity is not just about where you fit in, but how you break free. Whatever your stance, "The African Desperate" is an unabashedly sincere work that most certainly deserves its place in contemporary canon, breaking boxes while daring one and all to think—that is, if anyone is courageous enough to take up the offer.