A Warm, Beautiful Journey to Cape Verde in 'Djon Africa' [ND/NF Review]

In our fractured world, stories of cultural dislocation are burgeoning into a genre unto themselves, but rarely has the subject been explored with such warmth and irony as in “Djon África,” the fictional debut of Portuguese documentarians Filipa Reis and João Miller Guerra. “Djon Africa” opening displays these traits immediately, as a funky rap track introduces the film’s themes (“listen to this boy learn…his roots…feel the ground and the weather of his country…everyone needs an origin, a sense of mission”) while the protagonist grooms his dreadlocks, which to him are an indelible part of his identity as an African living in Portugal. Not until he reaches Cape Verde does he realize that the Jamaican hairstyle immediately marks him as a foreigner in Africa itself.

“Djon África” is named for its lead character, also known as Tibars, also known as Miguel (Miguel Moreira, a previous collaborator of the directors). In a few well-observed scenes, the directors show the stereotyping and alienation he’s subject to in Portugal and when a stranger tells him how much he looks like someone they knew in Cape Verde, he begins wondering about the supposed homeland that he’s never seen. After receiving more information from his tight-lipped granny, he sets out to find the father with whom he shares a name and face but has never met (he was deported). So begins a quest, but because Miguel couldn’t be much more laid back if he was asleep, the journey moves at a languid pace and that’s perfect for Reis and Guerra to add moments of local color. On the plane, he playfully banters with a woman, insisting that he is “from” Cape Verde, while she calls him a foreigner. This encounter sets the tone for his meetings with Cape Verdeans; they’re almost all kind and friendly, but his displacement is palpable.

In Cape Verde, Miguel hitchhikes, walks, flirts, and drinks his way across the islands, learning the strength of the local drink Grogue. One party with some beautiful girls turns sour when he wakes up robbed, yet he survives with the help of other strangers, in particular, a withered granny with a booze-induced lewd streak, who puts him up in exchange for help with her farm animals. Miguel rarely verbalizes his thoughts on the voyage, but the directors make the audience privy to his feelings using expressionistic shots and well-executed shifts in tone. Along with DP Vasco Viana, the directors have a definite visual talent, finding ways to enliven potentially dull scenes like interior conversations with striking compositions, also channeling the energy of party scenes with immersive handheld shots. Yet the most memorable ones are long shots that portray the sinuous beauty of Cape Verde’s landscapes (as Miguel notes, the land is made of brighter colors there). Not afraid of shooting from extreme distances, the filmmakers capture beautiful abstractions like one beautiful shot of a goatherd washing over a mountain like a wave.

Ending with two more powerful ironies, it’s difficult to say whether the pilgrimage is a success for Miguel, but it is certainly a journey, taking him out of himself and into deeper engagement with the world. Like most real voyages, it’s more an accumulation of small, deeply felt moments than something that fits easily into an overarching narrative. Through the expressive performance of Miguel Moreira and the keen eye of the directors, “Djon África” is a terrific evocation of a character and of a place through his perspective.  Reis and Guerra bring to life the beauty, people, textures, and (stunningly shot) landscapes of Cape Verde as well as the difficulty of finding home.  [A-]