Reflections on Rebellion at Rebel Salute

On judgement day I’ll be playing music for the rebels… Roots rock reggae music playing sweet in heaven – Raging Fyah

At the 2011 Edward Baugh Distinguished Lecture  which doubled as the Jamaican launch of his latest novel Is Just A Movie, Earl Lovelace argued that rebellion is one of the Caribbean’s greatest resources. Having given us some of our most unforgettable rebels like Fisheye, Bolo and Bee from The Dragon Can’t Dance and The Wine of Astonishment, Lovelace knows what he’s talking about.

The Peanut Vendor is a hallmark of the Jamaican stageshow. And the heat from the braziers was particularly welcome as the temperatures dropped at Rebel Salute

I find myself reflecting upon this talk of rebels and rebellions as the mists, or smoke, I am unable to distinguish between the two, rise about the Port Kaiser Sports Complex, Manchester, at Rebel Salute. My ruminations are also aided by the smell of roast corn and roasting peanuts. I am especially fond of the peanut “trucks” as the heat from the brazier of coal is always welcome when the temperature hits.

Historically, Jamaica is no stranger to rebellion, which is evidenced by the fact that the majority of our national heroes, Nanny, Sam Sharpe, Paul Bogle, George William Gordon were leaders of rebellions. Our other three heroes Garvey, Manley and Bustamante are more aptly called revolutionary, though they were no less rebellious. Additionally when you add Tacky, Cudjoe, Quao and even Jack Mansong (Three Finger Jack) to that list the rebels were many. Lets face it, Emancipation was not given, it was won. The machete struck the first blow and then the pen finished it.

So, Lovelace’s argument is an interesting point of departure, or maybe its a point of arrival, for the commemoration of Jamaica’s 50th year of independence, being popularly styled as Jam50. As Rebel Salute 2012, the 19th staging of the event, is also one of the early major events commemorating the year, the segue is especially easy.

Thinking about rebellion at an event like Rebel Salute is easy because most of the artists are singing about it in one form or the other. I found the line from Raging Fyah which frames this blog particularly intriguing. It suggests that rebellion will either be required in heaven, or that rebels will all get sainthood status.

In many ways rebellion in contemporary Jamaica surrounds Rastafari, and this was particularly acute at Rebel Salute. Rebel Salute gets its name from a very practical place. At its core it is a mega birthday party for veteran DJ Tony Rebel, and is therefore quite literally a salute to a rebel. But in another way, and it has not been accidental, the show has become a salute to rebellion and this points out that in Jamaica today much of that rebellion does not merely rest in Rastafari, but it resides in Reggae, in the strident drum and bass riffs, and most importantly in the songs for cry for social change.

So along with Raging Fyah there was the Marley brothers, Stephen and Damian, Taurus Riley, Gramps Morgan, Queen Ifrika, and Duane Stephenson. Several of the artists on the line up paid particular attention to the now incarcerated Buju Banton. It was clear that Banton, whose music for the past two decades has been especially focused on social change, is being considered one of the fallen rebels, or maybe it is just a stumble and not an actual fall.

The atmosphere at Rebel Salute is almost ethereal

But rebellion is a strange thing to contemplate on this isle because we are such a people of paradox. Despite the horns blowing and the waves flying for these songs of rebellion, there are many ways in which the status quo remains strictly enforced that it seems that nothing has changed.

Lovelace argued that many of today’s gangsters who plague our communities are would be rebels. The truth behind the statement is disturbing. Have we become rebels without a cause? Is this what happens when rebellion gets hijacked by the need to just get by? It also doesn’t help that sometimes it appears that rebelliousness has transformed to brukbadness. So sometimes I wonder if rebellion has merely become a tune, something to wave a flag  to before we ease back into reality and continue to just cut and go through.

The sale of flags have become a major commercial activity at Reggae concerts. But do they signal our willingness to rebel or our complicity.

And maybe that is exactly what has happened, we have become so adept at cutting illegitimate paths through our social obstacles that we don’t really need to rebel any more.

It seems that while we have had a history fraught with rebellions, it is not quite clear whether a revolution has taken place. As we embark upon the end of a fifty year journey, which is also the start of a journey, it is important that we ask ourselves whether all this rebellion has brought a revolution, or whether we’ve merely come 360 degrees.

Plug N Play – En’Livening’ Kingston’s Reggae Scene

Despite being the home of Reggae, Kingston has had at best, a sporadic live reggae music scene for the past several years. However, there is a growing number of spots which provide space for young talent to test their mettle and as a result is allowing live Reggae music to once again claim prominence in Kingston.

The weekly live concert Plug n Play at the Jonkunnu Lounge at the Wyndham hotel is one of those. The event’s recent offering highlighted that a range of interesting talent on the rise. The night’s interesting display of talent included Ja Blunt, who seemed quite impressed to have finally touched and “uptown stage” and therefore declared that the next step was Sumfest. The distance will be quite a jump, but Ja Blunt certainly has the braggadocio to attempt the leap, especially as the majority of his entertaining set surrounded the power, strength and length of his manhood.

Ja Blunt’s performance rose to a truly entertaining level when during his performance of ‘My Girl Me No Have It’ he was joined on stage by Mystery Jade, one of this year’s contestants in the the Magnum Kings and Queens of the Dancehall. As Ja Blunt outlined in his prelude to the song, ‘My Girl Me No Have It’ is dedicated to those women who do not realize that his limited funds must support both them and his music career, including paying for his studio fees. As the crowd responded to his witty lyricism, Mystery Jade stepped up to the stage and began an counteraction. The audience ate up the lighthearted clash as the two traded barbs.

RPM (Revolutionizing People’s Minds Through Music), all still bearing signs of mother’s milk in their youthfulness  also provided and interesting set. Their performance delivered kudos to the popular music course at the Edna Manley College where they are students. The began their set with two original pieces, the upbeat ‘See it Ova Deh’ and the soulful ballad ‘Life is Like Music’. On the second piece several members of the band highlighted that they were talented musicians and vocalists as well. For the final pieces the band was joined by DeFranco, owner of scream-inducing vocals with which he admirably performed ‘I’ll Give You’ and ‘Change’ despite technical difficulties.

Another noteworthy performance of the night came from Ra Deal, backed by the band Kasha Macca. Ra Deal provided a solid performance with a set dedicated to the reggae triumvirate of weed, revolution and women.  The performance was entertaining, and the songs musically and lyrically sound, yet, with the exception of when they tapped into classic Reggae Rhythms such as Taxi, the melodies were not generally distinctive.

The performance began with an a capella rendition of ‘4 am’ which allowed Ra Deal to display the strength of his gravelly vocals. Declaring himself the “marijuana defender”, Ra Deal delivered three songs on the topic ‘Ten Pounds’, ‘Stink Up’ and ‘Herbalist’. For a more romantic turn, during which most of his attentions was concentrated on a young woman in the front row he delivered ‘Physical’ and ‘Congo Love’.

Plug n Play is certainly a worthy addition to Kingston’s entertainment scene. The stage provides a good avenue for up and coming acts to work on their craft while, like Ja Blunt, they dream of making it to the big stage.

Protoje’s Seven Year Itch – High Grade Lyricism!

Protoje’s debut album Seven Year Itch is filled to bursting with high grade lyricism. This mellow, occasionally danceable, and certainly head-bobbing inspiring collection is filled with memorable reggae tunes.

As the title song declares, Protoje’s album has been seven years in the making. Its coming signals the big break for the young reggae artist and declares exceptional promise.

Ironically, while the seven year itch is usually a time for infidelity, the album is in many ways Protoje’s declaration of his commitment to making good music.

The Seven Year Itch is easily a collection of love songs declaring Protoje’s love for music, marijuana and women. On ‘JA’ he even declares his love for country in a patriotic song that is refreshingly devoid of syrupy untruths, looks Jamaica square in the eye, points to her flaws and says your scarred and you’ve got issues but I love ya (arguably like cook food)!

The title track outlines a journey toward the present. It makes mention of two failed attempts at getting degrees, the decision to pursue music instead and the eventual dream of the riches (or at least a sea-side lot) that come with the big break. Interestingly, on ‘The Seven Year Itch’, Protoje references ‘Welcome to JamRock‘ as one of the influences for his music.

This revelation is not surprising as Protoje’s style is reminiscent of an early Damian Marley (without the penchant for 1980’s deejay rhyme schemes). The Junior Gong influence comes through most cleanly on tracks such as ‘Dread’ and ‘Rasta Love’ (sung with Ky-Mani Marley), which bears the ancestral echoes of Damian Marley’s ‘Still Searching’.

Protoge also manages to separate himself from the pack, as unlike many Reggae balladeers who often sing on classic reggae rhythm, his melodies are new. This is a refreshing change.

Like Damian Marley, Protoje also manages to effectively declare allegiance with the masses without disavowing his ‘uptown’ roots (which seep in through his metaphors and allusions). Of course, he declares a greater affinity to the weed selling/smoking ones.

The Seven Year Itch is musically and lyrically sound, though the lyricism is easily stronger than the former. The album is dominated by thoughtful and introspective pieces such as ‘The Seven Year Itch‘, the soulful ballads ‘After I’m Gone’, ‘In the Streets’, and ‘Growing Up’ (featuring Gentleman). The witty narrative of ‘Wrong Side of the Law’ as well as ‘Arguments’ and ‘Roll’ offer a lighter side while sexier, love-filled pieces come through with ‘Rasta Love‘ and ‘No Lipstick‘.

So, ‘No Lipstick’ is among the songs that espouse Protoje’s high-grade intellect. Indeed of the entire album, only three of the songs don’t mention marijuana at least once. ‘No Lipstick’ is particularly intriguing because it has the unique distinction of being a weed-based love song. Indeed, while many an artist have previously declared his love for weed, it is a first that weed is being used a sign of love, where “marijuana glistening in the morning dew” replaces a bunch of red roses.

It may well be a good thing that it has taken Protoje seven years to release his first album, as this work declares that he is an artist of substance. In a world where you know the value of each song and can just pick the tracks you prefer, its particularly refreshing to find an album where every track is worth a listen, and several are worth more than one. The Seven Year Itch is likely to make you either fall for the repeat button, unless you want to just make the entire album keep repeating.

The White Witch Reigns at Actor Boy Awards 2010

The long renowned guzzum power of Annie Palmer, the legendary witch of Rose Hall continued to weave its magic at the 2010 Actor Boy Awards. The LTM Montego Bay production of The White Witch swept the 2010 Actor Boy Awards scooping up 13 of the 19 trophies.

The Actor Boy Awards 2010 was staged at the Pantry Playhouse, Kingston, and beautifully hosted by Teisha Duncan and Maurice Bryan. In his comments, Actor Boy judge Tony Patel pointed out that comedies continued to dominate Jamaica’s theatrical landscape. But it would be a musical that held the spotlight for the majority of the night.

The White Witch’s success sent ripples of comments about the power of obeah through the audience, as the pile of awards heaped up.

The White Witch, originally staged in its home city of Montego Bay  (at the Fairfield Theatre) and later in Kingston (at the Theatre Place) follows the demise of Annie Palmer. Crichton’s version deviates from the more traditional tale, presenting Annie’s story in a more sensitive light and instead casting the shadow of villainy on Obeah-man Taku. The cast featured Maylynne Walton as Annie Palmer (Best Lead Actress), Kieran King as (Best Lead Actor); Phillip Clarke as Taku (Best Supporting Actor), and Noelle Kerr as (Best Supporting Actress).

By the end of the night, The White Witch had not only been dubbed the Best Production of 2010, but had also copped the awards Best Director (Douglas Prout) along with all the awards for acting and most of the technical awards. The play had also earned the awards for Best Original Song (‘Flowing Free’) and Best Musical Score (David Tulloch), as well as Best Choreography (Marline Pitter-Sloley) and Best New Play (Crichton). Of course, it had also been dubbed the Best Musical.

The evening paid special tribute to the Secondary School’s Drama Festival, which is celebrating 60 years of existence. The impact of the festival on the development of local theatre was particularly highlighted as almost all presenters at the award show made reference to their participation in the festival ranging from the 1960s to the 1990s.

A few other productions also received a taste of the limelight. The Jamaica Youth Theatre’s Graffiti beat out its sole contender, Tick Tock, written and produced by Owen ‘Blakka’ Ellis, to earn the title of Best Revue. With the category of Best Roots Play now out the door, the Stages Production The Plumber proved its mettle as Best Comedy.

Campion College’s Cindy was dubbed Best Children’s Theatre while Douglas Prout further fattened his award coffers with the Best Drama award for Against His Will. Jambiz International’s Midnight at Puss Creek was the only other production to take home multiple trophies. The play earned the awards for Best Lighting Design (Trevor Nairne) and Best Special Effects (Patrick Brown and Trevor Nairne).

The evening’s success was in may ways due to the skills of Duncan and Bryan who were absolutely delightful, presenting spoofs related to the plays which had received the Best Production nod. The two were a wonderful medley of hijinx, high drama, and high talent.

At the end of the night, the dramatic, engaging and often hilarious presentation by the two able comperes easily made up for the absence of excessive flash, bang and glitter, showing that theatre’s true magic always comes down to creativity.

A State of Affairs – Less than the Sum of Its Parts

Basil Dawkins’ play A State of Affairs, currently playing at the Little Little Theatre, Kingston, is less than the sum of its parts. It benefits from a very talented creative team, both on and off the stage, and yet only produces at best a decent night’s entertainment. A State of Affairs is generally mildly amusing and occasionally funny, alas that is a rarity.

A State of Affairs feels like a comedy of errors from another era. Tony (Jerry Benzwick) attempts to bring greater honesty to his marriage by confessing to his wife about his numerous affairs. However, when things do not go exactly as plan (that is his wife Liz (Sakina Deer) does not see the merits of the disclosure) he decides to seek counselling so that he can curtail his wayward libido. Unfortunately counselling seems to offer more complications than solutions.

Indeed, the play’s absence of punch is a strange state of affairs. Dawkins, who is also the producer, is an experienced and talented playwright who has given Jamaica a slew of memorable hits including Toy Boy, Feminine Justice and A Gift for Mom. the play’s director, Douglas Prout, as has years of experience as an actor and a director.

Robin Baston once again creates a set that manages to make the tiny stage at the Little Little Theatre a much more dynamic space. So, A State of Affairs benefits from good use of stage. In the first scene, the bed dominates the entire space making it clear that the affairs to be explored will be of the sexual kind. And indeed, although it is an extremely unsexy play, much of the action does take place in the bedroom.

A State of Affairs also benefits from a talented ensemble cast. Ruth Ho Shing, who has become a Basil Dawkins production staple, is a competent and experienced actress. A State of Affairs makes the fifth Basil Dawkins production in which Ho Shing has appeared in as many years. Ho Shing also appeared in Uptown Bangarang, Uptown Bangarang II, Which Way is Out and For Better or Worse.

Ho Shing plays Inez Grossett a ruler wielding, bible toting Christian whose iron gray hair is symbolic of her iron maiden personality. Grossett is the church’s lead councillor and she believes that guidance should come from the word of the God, not from university degrees.

Rishelle Bellamy plays the church’s quirky secondary councillor (Miss Fenton), who, armed with a huge sandwich bag of pills, often seems the one in need of counselling. Bellamy again proves herself a very talented character actress and is responsible for the majority of the moments that bring real humour in the play. Her return to the commercial stage is a very welcome advent.

Jerry Benzwick seems unable to fully capture the nature of his character, and he is unable to deliver most of the comedy which should have come from his character. Sakina Deer delivers a competent performance. However, the character, which seems very similar to others she has played, may not have sufficiently challenged her.

A State of Affairs’ comedic thrust is in keeping with Dawkins trend toward comedy, which began with Uptown Bangarang, which having allowed him to cop the Best Comedy Actor Boy Award spawned Uptown Bangarang II. Yet where in that earlier play he found cause to repeat the experience, this time around, it is an affair easily forgotten.

Funny Piece of ‘Judgment’

Antonio (Andre Morris) displays his menacing nature to Sasha (Dahlia Harris) photo by Aston Cooke

Dahlia Harris’ play Judgment, currently playing at the Pantry Playhouse in Kingston, is a hilarious look at friendship and revenge. The entertaining production is three parts comedy and one part drama with a dash of intrigue to taste.
Harris has taken on the role of head cook and bottle-washer for the production as she is the writer, producer, and director of the show, as well as a member of the cast. Harris takes on these multiple roles admirably.

Indeed, Judgment allows Harris to shine brightly. It declares that not only is she a talented actress capable of delivering both comedy and dramatic ethos but she is also a good writer. The play is also well-produced and her direction is more than adequate. However, the latter is also the skill she needs to work most on as there were some shortcomings.

Judgment is a three-hander. Along with Harris (who plays Sasha) the play also features the inimitable seasoned actress Deon Silvera (as Janet) while newcomer Andre Morris (playing Antonio) makes the third prong of this triangle.

The plot is simple yet engaging. Set in New York City, Judgment explores the lives of two Jamaican expatriates, Sasha and Janet as they maneuver work, love and the ever looming possibility of deportation. Sasha and Janet have been friends for years despite their very different approaches to life. Where Janet is generally conservative and hardworking, Sasha is far more gregarious and believes in giving life a good squeeze and taking whatever comes out, whether it is hers or not.

Janet (Deon Silvera) begins to see the error of her misplaced trust. photo by Aston Cooke

The bonds of the women’s friendship is however set to be tested when Janet, consumed by the absence of love in the real world decides to invite a man from cyberspace into her brick and mortar life. This new man Antonio, who appears to be around half Janet’s age, is hot as hell and with the kind of sweet talk than can cause diabetes appears far too good to be true. Eventually, Sasha must decide between cautioning her friend or saving her own skin.

Judgment is wonderfully bouyed by its talented cast and the engaging nature of the characters who easily pull you in. Indeed the characters and the performances are possibly the strongest element of the production.

Harris, is by far the gem of this production and in truth her role, Sasha, is a far meatier and better crafted character than Janet who is a lot more gullible and ultimately her unwillingness to give any credence to her friends warnings dampen her likability.

Sasha on the other hand, is the kind of character that audiences love to love. She is morally questionable but not completely without scruples. She is loud, brash, and funny.

Interestingly, Silvera and Harris almost take on role reversals in terms of the character types that they have generally played. Silvera is clearly attempting to stretch her thespian muscles with this kind of role. Yet while her performance is steady, it is not sufficiently nuanced, though it is hard to determine whether this is due to shortcomings in the acting, the direction or the writing. Maybe it is a combination of all three.

Morris could also have benefited from stronger direction as his performance was unbalanced, his dual role seeming to demand more than he was able to deliver. He is however a competent performer is very likely to develop well with time.

Additionally, though the majority of Judgment takes place in Janet’s living room the play never feels static, possibly due to the constant movement of the actors than the general propulsion of the plot.

A trip to take in Judgment is time well spent as it certainly provides sufficient bang for the buck.

The Road to En-lightened Men

Dancehall artist Vybz Kartel is one of Jamaica’s growing cadre of en-lightened Men. With a combination of creams he lights the way, becoming a beacon of despair showing how far we have fallen from actual enlightenment. So, though they don’t actually need one, the cake soap toting Vybz Kartel has become the poster boy for bleachers.

Yet as much as we would like to (and it is very easy) point at, laugh at, or mock Vybz and his cartel, we must remember that they are the symptom not the disease. Bleaching, especially at the levels it currently occurs in the society, is merely the latest outbreak, one of the largest sores, of Jamaica’s socio-political ills.

It highlights that over 200 years after the abolition of the Transatlantic trade in enslaved Africans, and over 170 years after the abolition of slavery, in 2011, the Year that the United Nations has declared the Year of People of African Descent, despite the historical presence of Marcus Garvey, Una Marson, and the entire Rastafari Movement, our mental shackles remain firmly in place.

A Nadinola Bleaching Cream Advert from 1960 in Ebony Magazine blatantly highlights light is right

While the Ministry of Health plans to bring out the big guns against the rising tide of bleachers, it would be good to note that while bleaching clearly has medical implications, it is a cultural phenomenon. This current outbreak of unabashed bleaching does nothing other than underscore that at the heart of Jamaican society are connections between money, power, beauty and shade. Bleaching is nothing more than a more ingrained tool for creating a white mask for black skin.

We’ve long known the definition of beauty in this country, brown and long hair, and Page 2 of the Observer, as disturbing as some of us may find it, doesn’t lie. Brown and white are markers of beauty, economic status and power in this country. We all remember that “Nadinola beauty cream does a lot for you!”

So, bleaching is itself no new phenomenon, and while many are currently aghast at how unabashed bleachers are, there was once a time when it was expected, when bleaching creams boldly stated their goal of providing “lighter” skin.

There are however two significant changes. First, it is no longer a badge of shame. Second, in a bid to balance the gender equation the number of men who bleach is strikingly higher than in the past.

The phenomenon of bleaching men, probably seems so strange because bleaching rests on the point of beauty and until recently beauty was the purview of women, and as such as the song says, “bad man no dress like girl, we no bleach face and…” Hmmm, I think once again, it is time for Dancehall to redefine what masculinity means.

Yet it might not be at all strange that “gangsta’s have begun to associate themselves with an attribute normally associated with the “fairer sex”. Indeed, we probably should have realized that something had gone askew when Scare Dem Crew started to declare themselves to be dainty, the very opposite of the the image of the “bad man”.

Ebony Patterson's interrogation of gangstas and the bleaching phenomenon from the Curator's Eye III at the National Gallery of Jamaica

The phenomenon of the Gangsta-Bleacha is strikingly explored by Ebony Patterson whose installations in Curator’s Eye III, Young Talent V and Jamaica Biennale 2010 (at the National Gallery of Jamaica) have looked at the intersection between gangstas, bling, and bleaching, highlighting the highly feminized aesthetic that underscores Jamaican contemporary urban masculinity.

As Patterson’s art highlights, despite the uber-heterosexuality of the Jamaican masculinity, most proficiently and vehemently espoused in Dancehall culture, Jamaican masculinity is also heavily feminized and has been for decades, or at least since the 1980s. Its femininity rests in the love of sequins, flash, colour and general drama.

Kartel’s journey to en-lightenment shows that as far as status symbols go, money and fame are not enough. No longer do you just have to secure the “browning” who will ensure that your children are brown. Now, men must also , become the browning.

Better Mus Come – Visually Arresting

The film Better Mus Come, written and directed by Storm Saulter, has had an over long gestation period. For a while, as the premier date kept shifting further and further back, the film seemed to have become akin to  a politician’s promise – something stated with passion, but would never see the light of day. Finally it has arrived and it was well worth the wait.

Better Mus Come is an ambitious and thought provoking work. The film is

 

(l-r) Flames, Ricky and Shortman prepare for a job.

 

a thoughtful look at survival, love, redemption, corruption, and betrayal. It attempts to grapple with the roots of violence in Kingston’s ghettos while showing the tangled web woven between them, party politics and the the fight for survival as thugs, dons and boys who would be men battle over turf and fight to be respect, if only because they have a gun on their hips.

Better Mus Come made its first public appearance at the second Flashpoint Film Festival in 2006 as a short film, when it made the promise of being something to look out for. The feature length version appeared in 2008. It was an epic film in the making, but one in need of strong and careful editing. Storm and Paul Bucknor (the film’s producer who also shares editing credits with its director) clearly returned to the editing room and preformed much needed surgery removing the flab and creating a leaner, more coherent and potent film.

Better Mus Come is visually arresting work as the director’s grasp of cinematic language is one of its strongest elements. Though it is set in the turbulent 1970s Jamaica, it remains relevant to today’s politically divided Jamaica, where dons continue to rule enclaves. One cannot help but note that despite its reflection of more the country more than three decades ago, the film could have been describing events three months ago. So, though Better Mus Come was shot in contemporary Jamaica, the set remains is true of the 1970s era, reminding us that not much (other than clothing) has changed. Indeed, the constant chant of the political activists in the movie “better mus come” echoes the real life chant of “we want justice”. A cry so often made that it has become a joke but like anything truly funny, there is truth at its core. The film therefore wrestles with the concept that in many ways people will try to find ways to survive while they await justice or the better that they believe must one day come.

 

Shortman learns the danger of being a lone thug on the wrong side of the border

 

Better Mus Come benefits from well crafted characters and strong performances by its lead actors Sheldon Shepherd (Ricky), Everaldo Creary (Shortman) and Ricardo Orgill (Flames). Shepherd (and his abs) present a solid lead. Shepherd has sufficient charisma to convincingly portray the lead, though his portrayal of the conflicted, sensitive yet violent Ricky required more nuance than he brought to bear. Even so, he managed a convincing character who was believably a violent man and a caring and strong father figure.

Ricardo Orgill delivers a convincing portrayal of a cold calculating thug who puts his own survival above all else, willing to kill without thought and accept any job for the right price. Flames contrasts well against Ricky who is torn by both a sense of morality, a sense of hope as well as a desire for more for himself and his family.

Everaldo Creary gives a sterling performance as Shortman. Creary has great promise, if he manages to sidestep  the ease with which he could be stereotyped, especially in light comedic roles. Though he has landed more roles in comedy, he is a dynamic actor and his stint as Shortman highlights this.

Nicole Grey, who plays Kemala, is earnest but uninspiring in her performance and her character feels the least authentic, or what is otherwise a great cast. Furthermore, the chemistry between Shepherd and Grey is not as strong as it needed to be to heighten the story’s poignancy through the romance, and it also doesn’t help that their love scene is at best uninteresting.

Where the lead actors benefit from natural talent, however, they are unable to handle the pace at which the director wants the dialogue. As a result, pregnant beats become unexplained pauses and slows the pace of the dialogue and allows the story to occasionally sag.

It is inevitable that Better Mus Come will be compared with Jamaica’s seminal rude bwoi flick, The Harder They Come, particularly when Better Mus Come’s ending patterns the earlier work in terms of both setting and scenario. Both films also attempt to locate Rastafari and the hero’s connection to it as their sign of redemption, with Better Mus Come placing a stronger emphasis on this. Better Mus Come is clearly an inheritor of that earlier work and it carries on Jamaica’s romance with the rude bwoi persona and bears the weight of his swagger well.
Pulling on the feel of the 1970s, the film’s style reflects rock steady with a hint of reggae, though the score is not dependent on the music of the era. Not only are the major players from the rude bwoi archetype, but the dialogue often flows along a slow and deadly emphasis.

Better Mus Come is miles ahead of Storm’s first effort Twang, which premiered at the inaugural Flashpoint Film Festival. In fact the film is miles ahead of any film coming from our fair isle in recent history both in terms of the gravity of the issues it grapples with as well as the rich visual fare that it provides. Better Mus Come appears to be a promise, that though the Jamaican film industry has been slow in building momentum and has experienced fits and starts, better mus come, and it has.

The Fire is lit- Calabashment 2009

 

Kwame Dawes (left) and Colin Channer at Calabash 07

Calabash 2009 is back on! In a release issued this morning by the festival’s organizers it was announced that the Jamaica Tourist Board (JTB)  has reverted its decision and will fund the festival at the US$40,000 requested. So uncancel your reservations and mop up your tears, we’re heading to Treasure Beach this year.

 

Calabash won our hearts and when it was was threatened, when we realized just what we would lose if it did not materialize we armed ourselves with our shock, sorrow and outrage and it seems it made a difference.

Yet many of us realize that we too were culpable for Calabash’s stumble. It is free to us, it is freely given and because of that we must support it.  If nothing else the great Calabashment Scare of 09 showed us that it is time for all Calabashers to put our money where our heart is.

As the debate raged about how to find the shortfall, many questioned whether the organizers should not charge. That would make the festival into something other than what it is, and many of those who now enjoy it, would be able to do so.

Yet as many of you have outlined in your comments which have lifted my spirits and warmed the cockles of my heart (though I’m not quite sure where exactly to locate my cockles), we cannot simply wait on funding agencies and the government to fully support this important festival. Instead we must adhere to the mickle theory (every mickle makes a muckle), and so whether our mickles are big or small we must pool them together to ensure the future of Calabash.

By now the festival is ours, let’s keep it that way. I end with words from Kei Miller  ”we’d continue in rounds saying let and let and let/ until even silent dreams had been allowed”. Let there be Calabash!

Remember  the “the fire is lit”!

CALABASH – A Lament or maybe a Rant and a Moan

Jamaica, land I love, once again you break my heart! Once again you fill me with a feeling of loss that I cannot explain. I haven’t blogged in a while, a very long while, but when I checked my email, supposedly before

going to bed and saw a release headlined – Calabash Cancelled – sleep was cancelled, at least for the next few hours. It is ridiculous! It is impossible! It cant happen! It’s happening!

It seemed, in the silence of midnight, that a tragedy had struck and I was not at all sure how to deal with this. For the past seven years, I have known what I will be doing on the final weekend in May, I’m going to Calabash. It’s a given, how could I not! From my first brush against the tongues of fire, the flame was lit[erature], and each year, the passion grew, until – in the words of Pepe Le Peu it had become a “roaring fire!” 

From the very first Calabash I thought the organizers had managed to produce the biggest little festival, in the biggest little village in the biggest little island. And so I’m hoping that this isn’t a eulogy, I am careful not to use the past tense. 

I try to tell myself that the feeling of tragedy might be overreacting – I may have been watching too many episodes of Ugly Betty. Then I realized, this can’t be an overreaction, because Calabash isn’t some place I go to because I can think of nowhere better. Honestly, most years I couldn’t think of anywhere better, as it has been a phenomenal addition to the Jamaican cultural and entertainment calendar, another great festival which we seem to be losing our grip on! It seems that every time we get something right, we get it wrong.

Calabashers soak up some words

Calabash provided one weekend, where its you, some good friends, some good words, the beach and a few thousand other people who are enjoying the same thing. My group had grown with each passing year, moving from me, my best fried and a few other friends, until last year the group I travelled with (not to mention those you meet up with there) included me, my mother, my sister, my best friend, her mother and sister and another lady from my mother’s church who had always heard about it and never made it.

Our rooms are already booked (They were booked from January when the hotel was already down to two rooms) – but I guess we won’t be needing them anymore. I can only imagine the loss of revenue that’s going to come from this as rooms from Treasure Beach right back to Black River tend to be sold out – many having been booked from the year in advance.

I’ve always been amazed at the Jamaica that you find in Treasure Beach, yu can still walk nights, there are people everywhere, and in a country where I have been told people don’t read, a literary festival was outstripping itself year after year. 

The stage has been graced by so many, most of whom I know the average (and even the not so average Jamaica could not afford to see, or perhaps would never have heard about). From Derek Walcott, to Lorna Goodison to Sonja Sanchez, to Edward Baugh, the fifty year-old books brought back into print, or revived and brought back into the spotlight – that is something. 

The release says that the problem is a lack of financial support. I was speaking with someone recently and they said the festival wasn’t feasible, and I wasn’t sure what they meant. Did they mean the festival cannot fund itself – well, everybody knows that, its free! So what do we mean by it’s not feasible? Do we mean that the spin-offs from Calabash are not feasible then? Do we mean that it is not feasible for a new generation of potential writers to start finding their voice, and some finding their way into print ? Do we mean that it is not feasible that in a country where too many members of the population are bent on ripping it and themselves apart, some people can turn to the comfort of words and enjoy themselves? Do we mean that it is not feasible for a farming/fishing community to look forward to some extra income when the world economy is badly in need of some Zoltoff?

Is it that we do not deserve this? Do we not see the value of the new voices that have been found; the stories that are being told? As a country we have never managed to fully harness the potential of our stories. Even while the publishing industry is in trouble (like almost every other) stories are not in trouble. Novels become plays become movies become novels. Each time another Jamaican picks up a pen, one less Grandmother gets forgotten, another piece of the untold story is chronicled, and we can only right our history, when we begin to write our history, our story, our own truths as we know and feel and imagine them.

 

Maybe this boy has the right idea and we should all hide - Calabash2007

That is what Calabash represented for me. The will to write! I remember the joy of going to Trinidad and reading at rum shop, and there in the crowd in Trini dressed in his Calabash t-shirt, with his copy of Kei Miller’s The Same Earth under his arm. And I know why he’s wearing the Calabash shirt, because he’s going to a literary event, and Calabash means literature! Calabash brings writing closer.

And so, nine years (because it would have been nine this year) after Calabash began it has been decided, it is not feasible? 

The release mentions disappointing sponsorship from the private sector and the government, but I feel more than a little culpable. Maybe I, me, you, us, we didn’t give back enough. Maybe I, me, you, us, we expected too much.

Looking out from Calabash