Directed by Debs Gardner-Paterson. Starring Eriya Ndayambaje, Roger Nsengiyumva, Sanyu Joanita Kintu 12A cert, gen release, 88 min
IT WOULD require a monumental, not to mention mean-spirited, effort to say a harsh word against Africa United. A well-meaning, feel-good drama pitched somewhere between Slumdog Millionaireand Harriet the Spy, Debs Gardner-Paterson's film presents a sweet, sunny picture of the titular continent while drawing from such dark materials as civil war, Aids and prostitution.
Such heavy themes may sound like an unnecessarily traumatic backdrop for what is ostensibly a children’s film. But like the best sorts of Young Adult literature, there is nothing here that might not be utilised for a post-screening classroom discussion among bright people who have only recently run out of fingers on which to count their age.
A much broader demographic, meanwhile, can expect to enjoy the quest at the heart of the picture. For who could fail to be moved by a triumvirate of Rwandan kids who walk more than 3,000 miles to make the opening ceremony of the World Cup? And who could resist the collective charms of uptight Fabrice (Roger Nsengiyumva), cunning Dudu (Eriya Ndayambaje) and adorable Beatrice (Sanyu Joanita Kintu)?
All it takes is a wrong bus for our trio to end up in the Congo as unwitting refugees who must soon outrun would-be captors and the occasional wild beast. Happily, their World Cup odyssey is aided and abetted by former boy soldier, Foreman George (Yves Dusenge), and a kindly teenage sex worker (Sherrie Silver) they encounter along the way.
It hardly matters that the dialogue is a little basic, or that the plot feels surprisingly thin. Jollied along by dinky animated inserts, vibrant tableaux and a fierce cheerfulness, Africa Unitedkeeps us onside.
Then, just when we’re feeling suspicious about the movie’s naivete and just as we’re starting to debate whether this mythical, spiritual notion of Africa wasn’t part of the problem in the first place, there’s a devastating revelation to contend with.
The characters battle on regardless. Dudu, who has watched over his sister Beatrice since their parents died from Aids, proudly strides across various nations in his Liverpool FC shirt, a makeshift ball fashioned from discarded plastic bags nestled under his arm.
At a time when the Premier League has twisted itself into a gorgon’s knot of capitalist greed, this is poignant reminder of why they call it the beautiful game. We’ll cling to this romantic version over 200K a week at Man City any old day.
