The Landrovers will come to Jakhalsdans
Media 93
Fact is stranger than fiction in this tale of an actual wing of the US army which looks to develop the use psychic powers and the paranormal as tools in warfare. While men try to run through walls and render themselves invisible in this comedic caper, Marie Straub considers why The Men Who Stare At Goats may just miss the mark.
By Marie Straub
There seems to be a new South African film opening every other week at the moment. The second one for April is the latest offering from director, Darrell James Roodt (Yesterday, Number 10). This time, he delivers an Afrikaans family drama, Jakhalsdans, with two Afrikaans music stars, Theuns Jordaan and Elizma Theron, in his lead roles.
The film follows the story of Mara Malan (Theron), a young, widowed single mother and school teacher, who moves to the small town of Loxton in the Northern Karoo with her young daughter, Mia (Janke Bruwer). Mia, a spirited child and one quick to explore, discovers a hermit (Jordaan) hiding away in one of the houses on her new street. Determined to understand why he chooses to isolate himself, she starts to invade his world by bringing him cookies; drawings; and whatever else she thinks may help him with his sadness (which she identifies as his major problem). He doesn’t take kindly to her intrusions at first, which results in some friction (via angry letters) between him and her mother. Mara has more pressing issues to deal with, however, as it comes to her attention that the school at which she is employed and from which she expected to earn a livelihood, is set to be closed down by the authorities by the end of the quarter – unless, that is, they can come up with R500 000. Refusing to give up, she convinces farmers in the area to donate sheep for sale, but when that only makes up part of the funds needed, she lights on what she believes could be a more profitable idea – a music concert in the Karoo, with some of the Afrikaans music scene’s biggest names as crowd-pullers. The theory is that if they have Bok van Blerk and Juanita singing, then the Landrovers will come. Executing this plan proves rather difficult, and it is only when Mara calls an agent that she discovers that the reclusive man down the road is in fact famous singer, Ruan Landman. He has become disillusioned with the local entertainment scene and hasn’t performed in a very long time. Will they overcome their personal differences, and will he make it out of his house in time to save Loxton’s school?
Well, what do you think? And that’s the problem, isn’t it. This film exhibits great potential, but with a storyline that is just a little too contrived to please, and so formulaic you’ll see the whole thing coming a mile off, it’s a little, well, yawn. The cinematography is shocking – at times so orange it looks like whatever filter it’s being filmed with has been sipping self-tan, at times so burnt-out that you’ll want to shield your eyes. At one point, I wondered if this film had been made by a number of different cinematographers, so if you like your films to have stylistic or lighting continuity, don’t look this way. Jakhalsdans tries to be artistically sound, most markedly with its shots of windmills and Karoo veld. This got toward the lonesome picturesque style it was aiming for in some places, but also, unfortunately, veered toward cheesy insert-tumbleweed-here visuals in other places. At times the footage looks, especially in the opening moments, as if it may well have been taken with a regular old video camera. Theron as the lead actress is also a little out of her depth, with some of her moments looking horribly rehearsed – look left; look right; look heavenward; now walk out of frame. Not all singers shall good actresses make, although at this juncture, I must say Jordaan did a credible job with his role. Theron’s not helped by her wardrobe, which has this primary school teacher in the Karoo walking around in heels and dresses that would put most Sandtonites to shame. Ultimately, she cannot match the stunning work by young Bruwer, whose performance of Mia is a formidable one, hampered only by the fact that she has been cast as a child much younger than her years. Not only does the camera love this beautiful little girl, she also floats lightly over her lines with a softness which pulls you in, despite the film’s many flaws. Unfortunately, certain aspects of the dialogue (which really could have been adapted to suit an older child) such as her repeated mispronunciation of words, does not ring true. While Bruwer plays the innocence of Mia impeccably, she is just too old; together; articulate; and wise a child for some of the overly childlike phrases the screenwriter has placed in her mouth.
The plot holes are plentiful – the principal, by all accounts an honest and upfront man who clearly knows this closure has been a long time coming, somehow hired a single mother, letting her move out into the middle of nowhere with her child, without bothering to mention to her that her job wouldn’t exist in three months? Then there’s the fact that Mara happily hires a renovator – self-proclaimed poet and troubadour, Dawid le Fleur (Neil Sandilands) – even though she is about to be without a job. Actually, I’ll forgive them for that one because Sandilands is entertaining, even if the character he plays is a bit hokey. Besides, according to this film, in the Karoo, anything can happen.
To be fair to the film, within this there are some shining lights. Le Fleur’s ridiculous lines – ‘Stage fright is when reality clashes with your inner troubadour’ – made me laugh in spite of myself, and his love interest, a purple and yellow eye-shadow wearing school teacher, Vanessa Ruitman (Christina Storm) was quite amusing, too (and surprisingly well-acted). Then there is the fantastic cheese factor (let’s call it the FCF), which while compromising the drama of the film, is hilariously entertaining. Landman’s agent will encourage Mara to convince him to return to the stage, telling her, drum-roll please, “Don’t do it for Loxton. Do it for Afrikaans music!” Want some more FCF? Just wait till you see Bok van Blerk and Juanita’s feigned surprise when they are called out-of-the-blue by Landman (what was that I was saying about not all musicians being actors?). Priceless! Truly priceless! The last FCF belongs to Storm and Sandilands who managed to play out a scene in which le Fleur gives Vanessa an iron rose he has made and she declares it to be the most beautiful thing she has ever seen, with all seriousness and sincerity – ‘An iron rose… just what I always wanted’.
Clearly, the visual of a little girl walking through the landscape of the Karoo stuck with Roodt, and aside from the here-there-everywhere cinematography, it is one of the few elements that actually works for him – partly due to the Bruwer’s lovely quality. In the end, this is not enough to rescue the story from being overly-idealistic. This is a family drama though, and I suppose they were out to teach lessons – as the principal tells Mara, people in the Karoo have to look each other in the eye every day, so they treat each other decently and with respect. Still, if the script hadn’t tried so hard and this film had been allowed to be the gentle discovery by a reclusive man of the world through the eyes of a child, thereby helping him find his way out of the hole he has dug for himself, this film could have been something truly stunning. Jordaan’s music and the Karoo landscape alongside Bruwer’s performance offer moments of potential magic.
While this is not even close to my cup of tea, and I’m still a little sad about the missed opportunity, I think this film knows its market and will probably find it. Get Bok and Juanita (not to mention Theuns and Elizma) and the Landrovers will come, right? Two stars.
Jakhalsdans is at cinemas from 23 April 2010.
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