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.

Reading many of the reviews here, I can't help feel that many have misunderstood the point of the film.

This film is not an exploration into apartheid times, nor the war. It's also not thematic around homosexuality.

Instead, the film is a reflection on masculinity and herd mentality. Of three sensitive men, forced to join the army and having to come to terms with their new environment.

I've avoided spoilers in this review, deliberately. However I would say many reviewers here seem to like conclusive endings, or happy endings. This film will not give you that.

This film will take you on a journey of aggression, submission, romance and friendship.

A wonderful film.

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.

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.

I'd read the book which is atmospheric and weirdly compelling, if also slight and ultimately unsatisfying. But books with sparse narratives often make the best films (eg. Bridges of Madison County) so I was ready to give Moffie another go. The film is also atmospheric and offers some confronting insights into the apartheid years and South African army culture. Beyond that, it is less compelling than the book, and even more unsatisfying. There's a fatal lack of narrative drive and no real attempt to flesh out key characters - acutely observed in the book, but only roughly sketched in the film. Our guide through two years of national service is Nicholas van der Swart, a sensitive young man, struggling to come to terms with his homosexuality and experiencing the first pangs of serious attraction. In the novel both his inner and outward struggle is moving and eventually devastating. But on film Nicholas appears frustratingly passive and considerably less heroic. Kai Luke Brummer makes an attractive Nick, but the role is almost entirely reactive, which makes for a somewhat lame hero. Perhaps Moffie is the film that that book deserved - faithful and true. But it still feels like a missed opportunity.