"The Choir" world premiere at the Sydney Film Festival

"The Choir" opened at the Sydney Film Festival yesterday in a simultaneous world premiere with an event in Los Angeles. By a twist of fate, I went to see it along with my lovely wife and another friend. Twist of fate in that it was the one film that both drew our attention in the write up, and was shown at a time we could attend.

It is a feature length documentary about the choir at Leeuwkop Prison in South Africa. In order to make it an engaging narrative, it focuses on two main characters - Jabulani, a youngish guy convicted of housebreaking with intent to steal, and who joins the choir to escape the worst of the prison environment; and Coleman, an older guy convicted of armed robbery who is the choir leader. Other members of the choir are occasionally brought forward from the chorus; however building the story around Coleman and Jabulani gives the documentary a human element for the audience to connect with.

In a way, it is a fairly typical narrative of redemption. The choristers are all in prison for transgressions against society - not one claims innocence or wrongful conviction. Coleman, for example, describes candidly his oddly gentle technique for holding up a bank - with a roll of toilet paper. Jabulani also describes his induction into life as a criminal, starting with his mother's arrest for stealing. The redemption comes through Coleman's leadership of the choir, exhorting his charges to behave themselves and be good - naturally to rehabilitate for their eventual release from prison, but also so that the choir has a fighting chance at the biannual prison choir competition, where choirs from around South Africa challenge for the honour of being the best.

It is a pretty stark film whose eye roves over depictions of violence, poverty and desperation that I'm very fortunate never to have experienced personally. Against that backdrop, the characters in the film claw back their humanity through the music and experience of the choir. It is moving, without being saccharine.

We (the audience at the showing) had a bit of a treat, as one of the producers was on hand for a QnA session after the movie. Here, we learned that it took a year of negotiations with the South African corrections to allow the cameras in - they didn't want to look bad in front of the world; it was one guy with a camera doing the shooting and that the amazing sound was the work of a talented sound engineer working from those tapes; and both the main characters are still on the outside and doing well.

The depths of poverty and violence are profound. On a couple of occasions the film takes us on a tour of Jabulani's home turf - haphazard shacks, unemployed people all around, children playing with broken appliances at the side of the dusty road and cooking on an ancient gas stove are all repeated emphases of just how meagre their lives are. Jabulani recounts the different wounds he's sustained - stabbings, gunshot wounds, and a scar from a crowbar attack by a rival gang - and how he has shot in self defence; all in a calm tone in much the same we we in Sydney resignedly recount the different delays on the public transit system.

I have three friends whose life stories begin in South Africa; and their stories of the hazards of life there are incredible to me, a small town Canadian lad who lived the myth of unlocked doors day and night. Those stories - a locked gate inside a house between the living and sleeping quarters (to discourage thieves from going any further into the house); ducking for cover on the way to school - are brought to life in this documentary.