“Good
for the soul,” gushes one critic, and, depending on
one’s reaction, that is the problem: “Cape of
Good Hope” could be out of the popular feel-good book
series and categorized as “Chicken Soup for the Soul,”
that is, schmaltz.
Which
is not to say it doesn’t have disarming charm, for
those who like this sort of thing. An initial feature from
2001 transplants to the country, director/co-writer Mark
Bamford and wife, Diahann Carroll’s daughter, co-writer
Suzanne Kay, it takes the obvious but rare step of emphasizing
the “Good Hope” of former Cape Province/Colony.
Unplanned,
seven-week location shooting in coastal Hout Bay coincided
with the diamond jewelry anniversary of the abolition of
Apartheid, but photography and script consciously steer
clear of temptation to travelogue and political obsession.
Earlier works about and/or from the continent’s tip
invariably gravitated to the complex tissue of race, politics,
policy, and English vs. Afrikaner, as have contemporary
“Proteus,” “In My Country” and “Forgiveness.”
This one, as well, cannot one-hundred percent escape such
defining problems, as when police as a matter of course
accept a prosperous Boer’s word against that of a
shantytown African domestic. But as with Botswana’s
runaway successful “The Gods Must Be Crazy”
-- which some saw as condescendingly racist -- the intent
here lies not in that direction.
This
film aspires to romantic comedy, in which, although some
vainly deny it, everyone is looking for love. More, and
in the same genre, there is no suspense whatsoever. Good
guys and gals are immediately obvious, crust it over though
they may, and will be appropriately rewarded, while the
baddies get mild comeuppance in mud puddles. It’s
been done a thousand times, and still people are drawn to
this type of mush.
Altmanesque,
many lives touch each other, fittingly in the workplace
and church, at first casually and then intimately. In a
Good Hope Animal Rescue Toyota, blonde pneumatic professional
Good Samaritan Kate (stage actress Debbie Brown, in her
film début) saves mutts, strays and waifs but overlooks
hangdoggishly available boyish nice-guy widower and veterinarian
Morne (Morne Visser), he who goes to Wednesday evening tango
classes and whispers, “Rescue me.” Unconvincingly
masking her heart with “I like him married, that’s
his best feature,” she craves true affection but settles
for cheap motel trysts and fast food with caddish married
father-of-two Stephen van Heern (Nick Boraine). She blots
out her own father who, she believes, when she was six left
her and Zsa Zsa Gaborish mother Penny (Clare Marshall) for
a snake charmer.
Receptionist
at the animal shelter is loyal Sharifa (Quanita Adams),
aching for children with her comically macho husband Habib
(David Isaacs). Physically tending to the four-legged animals
is Jean Claude (Eriq Ebouaney), a refugee from the Congo
whose astronomy Ph.D. is not officially recognized but who
moonlights as a planetarium volunteer -- and is let go --
and has applied for Canadian immigration papers. He also
has his quiet eye on maid and cook Lindiwe (Nthati Moshesh),
a single mother whose dog-loving son Thabo (Kamo Masilo)
helps out at the shelter and needs a father, and whose Mama
(Lillian Dube) is gruffly dismissive of immigrants and pushes
the studious daughter towards marriage, especially with
stiff, affluent Reverend Poswa (Yule Masiteng).
Unbelievable
luck in an abandoned baby and a constabulary encounter help
unclog the impasse that develops as the superficially touching
lives begin to interweave more intricately. A late moment
even includes forgiveness for a father sinned against rather
than sinning, and, a year later, in happiness all can laugh
at others’ foolishness. Bits of simpering awkwardness
may (or may not) be the result of the simplistic quality
of it all. This vein of up-with-people and –animals
romp, however, is a traditional crowd-pleaser, meat-and-potatoes
for the many.