Despite its ambition to be a more serious piece of drama, Nganù is unfortunately held back either by a general lack of technical polish (sometimes leading to unintentional comedy within its dead-serious subject matter), or the misjudged attempt to feel grander than it should. When the film sticks to painful, ugly, intimate human drama, it actually starts to command attention. There’s a striking lack of romantic sentiment to this story of a horrible person trying to redeem himself, as the film’s many handheld camera shots capture its best performers at their nastiest (or most defiant)—showing us that the road to healing isn’t actually as easy as it seems in Hollywood movies. Nganù sticks to its strict sense of morality, which is the best thing it could have done.
Villagers advise an abusive husband to channel his rage in the army. There, he must come to terms with violent urges that have deep and painful roots.
A physically and sexually abusive man is sent by his village to train in the military, where he must learn to be a better person.
Despite some of those aforementioned unintentional laughs and awkward line readings making their way all the way to the end, the film's concluding scenes are still surprisingly bold. You really just expect all redemption arcs to end a certain way, but Nganù makes a gamble with its ending and sticks the landing much more than it misses it. It's a gutsy move that only shows us how much potential director Kang Quintus has, and emphasizes the need for more people to invest in African cinema, so these kinds of stories can get the kind of production financing and help they deserve.
You know what? Good on Cameroonians for rejecting Hollywoodization and going full Shakespeare with their tragedy.
