THE MILKMAID | FILM REVIEW
Dir: Desmond Ovbiagele (136 mins)
There’s a scene in director Desmond Ovbiagele’s The Milkmaid where a sub-Saharan village wedding celebration is interrupted by an attack. It reminded me of two other films where violence occurred after wedding ceremonies: Fiddler On The Roof and The Winds Of War. The massacre that happens here doesn’t transpire towards Jews but to ‘infidel’ men and children, in particular ones that Islamist terrorists also want to dehumanise, degrade and denigrate – females.
The Milkmaid, Ovbiagele’s second film, is about what happens to girls and women taken against their will to become slaves: endless rape and childbirth, beatings and starvation along with cooking and cleaning that’s also de facto, of course; and eventually, if you’re among the chosen ones, martyrdom by suicide bombing. Its title refers to the image of two Fulani milkmaids on the back of the 10 naira (Nigeria’s currency) note, and probably to the incident where 276 Chibok girls were kidnapped from their government school in 2014 by Boko Haram (over 100 are still missing).
Married Aisha – Anthonieta Kaluntra, making her film debut with a quietly determined performance – and veteran Nollywood actress Maryam Booth, as Zainab, mesmerize as sisters abducted from the wedding, given to the terrorists and then split up. The film follows a non-linear narrative of Aisha’s life with her new second-husband (strong acting by Gambo Usman Kona), life on the run and search for Zainab: flashbacks and dream sequences required re-viewing, but after reconsideration, it heightened the story and outcome.
Another injustice also awaits them – ostracization from families, friends and neighbours, for forcibly losing their virginity and bearing their captors’ children. Two surprises appear towards the last three-quarters, that given what we know about these situations shouldn’t be that shocking but still are. One scene which particularly remains in the memory sees a sacrificial suicide bomber beautified, then walking floatingly to her destination: a market interspersed with faces of humanity, eating, selling wares, playing games and enjoying life for, unknowingly, the last time.
Ovbiagele seems to have an insight to the female psyche with this sensitive and masterful work. One issue with The Milkmaid, though – and granting that it’s a dramatisation, not a documentary – is an absence onscreen of militants’ violent actions towards their ‘wives’. A graphic depiction of a whipping meted out is by one woman to another.
Any critique of Ovbiagele’s writing and production here should acknowledge a cut of over 20 minutes by the Nigerian Film & Video Censors Board, for fear of offending the Muslim half of the population. Implications of religion as the reason for the insurgency had to be wiped away. The uncensored version, though, was sent to the Oscars, and The Milkmaid is in contention for Best International Feature Film at this year’s Academy Awards. Hopefully, the public can see that version. If not, this important emotional study of a horrific problem still needs to be seen worldwide.
Screening presented by USC Cinematic Arts, Sat 30 Jan, 7.30pm PST (3.30am UK time!). Info: here
words RHONDA LEE REALI