’On Becoming a Guinea Fowl’ review: A furious reckoning

Rungano Nyoni delivers a blistering portrait of communal rage in On Becoming a Guinea Fowl.

A caustic, uneasy rage settles in the core of the beautiful, genre-defying On Becoming a Guinea Fowl. Written and directed by Rungano Nyoni (I Am Not A Witch,) the film adopts a surrealistic tone to tackle a profoundly unsettling topic. The effect is instantaneous. The moment that Shula (Susan Chardy) rolls up in her car on a darkened road, decked out in a Missy Elliott costume, we’re hooked by Nyoni’s elastic yet assured direction that never falters in its myriad of tones. 

On Becoming a Guinea Fowl is a tough film to sum up. It’s a story about grief and generational trauma. The film tackles themes of internalized sexism and familial and cultural past expectations with modern understandings of the diminishing returns of gender roles. It’s also bitingly funny in its examination of the human condition and the many, many ways family both lets us down and lifts us up. Despite the tight balancing act Nyoni walks, she never relents, maintaining our gaze as she thoroughly disassembles one family at the heart of her story. 

One night, on the way home from a party, Shula finds the body of her uncle dead on the side of the road. It doesn’t perturb her. When she calls to let her dad know, he assumes he’s drunk, replying, “It’s what he does.” The moment inspires an electric, shocked laugh as we can’t help but wonder what prompts such an apathetic response. Throughout the film, we’ll learn just why Shula didn’t care for his death as she contends with her middle-class Zambian family and the secrets they’re stubbornly holding to their chests. 

As the film progresses and secrets reveal themselves, the more frustrating it is to watch the funeral proceedings. Nyoni’s script sizzles, furious and unrelenting, and demonstrates the lengths people will go to maintain a certain image. The result is effective, as we too grow indignant on Shula and her cousins’ parts, the extended families ineffectual platitudes and protestations on how they grieve is viscerally upsetting. There’s never a time to tell someone how to grieve — even less so when the deceased person is a monster. 

On Becoming a Guinea Fowl avoids any genre trappings. Instead, each influence bleeds into one another with unusual framing and a bone-rattling score by Lucrecia Dalt. There’s a fervent, kinetic edge to how Nyoni captures her characters. For instance, a scene where Nsansa (Elizabeth Chisela) reveals a long-buried secret to Shula delivers forward-facing movement as she walks toward the camera. Chisela is tremendous and brings forth a larger-than-life persona. She stumbles forward in this scene, all big gestures and posturing, clearly masking her hurt.

Even moments of grief come with an edge of something off-kilter, the camera keeping low to the ground, eliciting feelings of dread. There’s a persistent vibrancy to each frame despite the dire circumstances these characters face, visually demonstrative of their resilience and power regardless of their pasts. In tandem with Nyoni’s direction, David Gallego’s cinematography carves out a distinctive look that speaks directly to the story it’s telling, furious yet brimming with the life force a rallying community can provide. 

Throughout it all, Chardy anchors the film with a towering performance despite her having to, at times, acquiesce to the needs of her family. But their grief physically needles at her as she grows increasingly impatient with their inability — refusal — to understand why some can’t and won’t mourn their uncle’s passing. Her rage sits plain and clear despite her ability to muscle through, but it’s precarious. How often does the sensation of grinding our teeth manifest on screen without seeing the actual act or even a clenched jaw? 

On Becoming a Guinea Fowl is an extraordinary feat of filmmaking that once again shines a light on Nyoni as a singular filmmaker. It’s a profound piece of storytelling that bridges comedic observation and one-liners with unmistakable trauma. But it never feels like pieces of different stories and instead combines to create something wholly cohesive. With a distinctive voice and style, she delivers a thunderous story of reckoning and the silent demons that have no option but to spool over. 

On Becoming a Guinea Fowl arrives in theaters March 7.