Moffie

Let's start by saying what this film is not. It's not an historical film. It's not a gay drama. It's not a documentary. It's not a war film.

What is it? It's a picture of a young man who barely understands that he is attracted to guys negotiating his way through military training, relationships in a brutal and macho culture, actual patrols in the bush and a strongly forbidden relationship. Worse, he is doing this as a native English speaker with an Afrikaans name.

I started like this because I think several reviewers may have wanted different things from the film as mentioned in their appraisals of it. That they didn't get it speaks, for me, to the excellence of the film which holds the interest throughout. We didn't need bludgeoning with details of the border war, a weepy romance, grisly scenes of gore and shattered flesh. Thank goodness we didn't have them.

We see, despite the in-your-face military training and the rudeness of barracks life, something that is almost impressionistic in its alighting from scene to scene some of which are respites from the relentless horror of instilling hard, soulless conformity into a company of disparate kids and some of which are flashbacks. The film is happening, we know the outlines of the situation, but it's as if it's happening outside the bounds of the events in the world at large which are incidental yet essential to the film's progress.

The loathsome oppressiveness of life in South Africa in the 80s is shown - obligatory church services, indoctrination, no dissent brooked, patriotism compulsory, psychological torture for those who do not conform, medical interventions amounting to abuse for those suspected of being gay.

In this poisonous atmosphere, Nick finds fleeting happiness with a fellow recruit Stassen.

After the conscription period, Nick returns home and fulfils his promise to see the sea together. The ending is perfect and equivocal and it leaves the viewer to use his or her own mind as to what might have come after.

As for the alleged inaccuracies in the script, so what? It's a film. I didn't care that the guys hadn't been shaved to a number two. So what if the sergeant would have normally been a corporal doing the basic training?

It's a film that will certainly stay with me.

I saw this film at the Glasgow Film Festival. The film is beautifully shot and tells the gripping tale of 16 year old Nicholas's two year of conscripted service in 1980's South African army. At the same time Nicholas is coming to terms with his sexuality. The film pulls no punches in setting out Nicholas's initial experiences. The acting by all concerned is very good and the film moves along at a reasonable pace. My only criticism is that the ending is a bit dragged out but overall that is minor as the film is a very good watch.

As an ex SANDF conscript, there are just too many factual inaccuracies for me to take the film seriously. A good attempt, but falls short in many aspects. Life was far more brutal as a conscript in the SANDF and the ending is left hanging in the air.

This South African film would appear to tread a well-worn path; and it's certainly true that the military training (and also war itself) is hell genre is one that can often feel over-familiar. Many of the tropes we know well are there, but this stands out for a couple of reasons. Telling the story of the white male experience of conscription in apartheid South Africa is an under-explored context in cinema; and to do so from a South African, coloured director makes this all the more striking. Also served by a disciplined running-time, the film manages to examine a particularly (Afrikaans) brand of white South African toxic masculinity with an unflinching but compassionate eye. That the legacy of this still haunts South Africans of all ages and races makes this all the more important. The title is an Afrikaans slang word used to offensively denigrate gay people, and it's this territory that the film specifically deals with; it's often a hard watch, but never relentlessly so and never excessive. Though it is very much rooted in the local context, it will work well for viewers no matter their nationality. This film suffered from an abbreviated cinema release due to lockdown, and deserves a wider audience.

As extraordinary and as hauntingly beautiful as Skoonheid (Oliver Hermanus's second film) was, I could only recommend it to die-hard cinephiles, and still then I included a warning. It all builds up to a crushing scene which traumatised this rather thick-skinned reviewer. It attests to the power of the film. Moffie, even more extraordinary and more hauntingly beautiful than Skoonheid, is not Skoonheid. Everyone should see it. No warning necessary.

The first few frames - in 4:3 format, flawlessly colour-treated and styled, shot on a perfect location - immediately places you in what is unmistakably the 80s, in apartheid South Africa. Everything is beautiful though, from the brooding landscapes, the wind in the grass, the dreamy lighting, to the underwater shots and the young men. The beauty does not, however, lull you into a false sense of safety, because as the cello music builds from a whimper to a scream, you know what lies underneath the water's surface. You fully understand the threat posed to this gentle boy. So, you wait for it to come tumbling down. Whether it does or not, I will not say.

Along the way, there are brutal scenes of war, anger, toxic masculinity and blind nationalism. There are also tender moments of sharing a sleeping bag, singing "Sugarman" and a desperate wink when words fail. It is these tender moments that make the brutal moments more bearable, but also so much more brutal.

I am leaving this review unfinished, for if I describe the wordless, aching scene between Brand and Nicholas, a scene that represents the brilliance of this film, I will give away too much and spoil it for you. The only other thing I will say, is that Skoonheid dealt with repressing the desire and anger of one man. Moffie deals with repressing and brutalising a whole generation.