Wakaliga, a neighborhood in Uganda, is home to a film studio known for producing action-packed movies with local talent, resourceful props made from scrap materials, and imaginative digital effects. One of its most notable films, “Who Killed Captain Alex?”, tells the story of a martial arts expert seeking vengeance against the criminal elements responsible for his brother’s death, who was a military officer assigned to tackle crime in the urban slums. Despite its humble budget of only a few hundred dollars, the film features explosive action scenes, including helicopter battles and martial arts confrontations, making it an entertaining watch that defies conventional artistic expectations.
Founded by Harriet Nakasujja and Isaac Nabwana, this studio, affectionately dubbed Wakaliwood, gained international recognition in 2017 when it was showcased at the German art festival Documenta. This exhibition marked a shift towards acknowledging artistic contributions from independent groups outside traditional Western art scenes, particularly those that develop innovative funding methods. For instance, the studio utilized its gains to install fiber-optic internet in its local area. The exposure to the global art community has not only elevated production quality but has also led to a nuanced evolution in the studio’s thematic focus, as evidenced by their latest work currently displayed at Chisenhale Gallery.
Unlike its earlier films centered on the experiences of Wakaliga’s residents, “Kibuuka Omumbaale” aims to resonate with a broader, particularly British, audience. The 40-minute film is named after a legendary warrior from the Buganda kingdom, whose remains were controversially taken by a missionary to Cambridge University in 1906 and later returned to Uganda just before the country gained independence in 1962. This incident sets a historical context for discussions on colonial expropriation and the complexities surrounding the restitution of cultural artifacts, a subject UK museums have frequently avoided.
While the film could easily delve into a straightforward critique of colonialism, Wakaliwood crafts a more intricate narrative that engages viewers’ emotions and conscience. The storyline unfolds as a vibrant superhero adventure, complete with gritty detectives, brave women, unscrupulous politicians, and a villainous character humorously dubbed the “girl with a voluminous bum.” The plot kicks off when a young man visiting the relics of Kibuuka Omumbaale becomes possessed by the warrior’s spirit, reminiscent of a similar event in the 1950s when a Ugandan truck driver was inspired to take part in the anti-colonial movement.
This possession grants him extraordinary powers, allowing him to soar through the city and unleash energy blasts. However, an evil counterpart emerges, creating a duality that needs resolution. Investigative journalists seek insights from local historians and curators, subtly integrating educational elements into the film without sacrificing entertainment value. As tensions escalate, the narrative culminates in a dramatic confrontation, symbolizing the need to reconcile the positive and negative elements of history.
A unique aspect of this film is its dual soundtrack. Alongside the standard audio elements, a voiceover provides humorous commentary, insights, and playful interpretations of the on-screen action. This practice draws inspiration from local “video jokers” who traditionally accompany screenings in Kampala, offering free translations of foreign films that have made them regional celebrities.
In previous Wakaliwood films, a video joker might inject humor by claiming a character is being punished for the “grave sin” of watching Nigerian movies. In this latest production, Kampala’s premier English-speaking video joker (most typically converse in Luganda) blends witty remarks with frequent reminders that “this is how we watch films in Uganda!” Although presented in a straightforward manner on a screen before painted bleachers, some viewers may perceive a slight loss of the chaotic local energy that characterized earlier works. However, the filmmakers are acutely aware of this potential shortfall, considering the historical context of British cultural appropriation.
By taking control of their narrative, the creators not only address the theft of cultural heritage but also weave in influences from various cinematic traditions, including Cantonese kung fu and Hollywood action films, revitalizing their heritage for contemporary audiences. This effort reclaims a local hero from the confines of colonial museums and reintegrates him into the Wakaliga community, tackling issues like corruption, gender violence, and social inequalities while acknowledging the ethical dilemmas rooted in pre-colonial history. Just as modern art movements have drawn from indigenous traditions, artists in Kampala and beyond are reshaping stagnant Western cultures into something more vibrant, distinctive, and relevant to today’s historical landscape. Wakaliga, Uganda, exemplifies a dynamic and courageous cultural scene: eclectic, bold, and widely embraced.
The film is on display at Chisenhale Gallery in London until December 6.
