Don’t Let’s Go to the Dogs Tonight, 2025.
Written and Directed by Embeth Davidtz.
Starring Lexi Venter, Embeth Davidtz, Zikhona Bali, Shilubana N Fumani, Rob van Vuuren, Anina Reed, Andreas Damm, Tessa Jubber, Kara du Toit, Albert Pretorius, and Carel Nel.
SYNOPSIS:
Depicts 8-year-old Bobo’s life on her family’s Rhodesian farm during the Bush War’s final stages. It explores the family’s bond with Africa’s land and the war’s impact on the region and individuals through Bobo’s perspective.
Upon finishing watching writer/director Embeth Davidtz’s mouthful-titled Don’t Let’s Go to the Dogs Tonight, it wasn’t necessarily a shock to learn through research that this adaptation only covers one section of Alexandra “Bobo” Fuller’s life growing up in a family caught in the middle of the Bush War. Based on her memoir, Davidtz smartly fixates on one section, an early childhood period where 8-year-old Bobo (precociously played by astounding newcomer Lexi Venter, not only convincing on-screen but also in the inner voice commentary likely filled with musings from the memoir) and her family navigated life in war zone Rhodesia (it would soon become Zimbabwe) and what comes across as a coming-of-racist tale, typically taking the wrong cues from her mom Nicola (played by Embeth Davidtz).
To provide historical context, the period was marked by a revolution, with the predominantly African-American population hopeful of regaining control of the land through an upcoming election that naturally divided whites (many of whom had emigrated there following World War II) and African Americans. Matriarch of a financially struggling farming family, Nicola is determined to stay there, no matter what. At one point, she had told Bobo that if her guns were taken away, she would fight for the land with her fists.
The family also employs Black servants, Sarah (Zikhona Bali) and Jacob (Shilubana N Fumani), with the former often tending to Bobo when Nicola is either drunk or experiencing a manic episode. This is also where the most intriguing dynamic comes into play, as Bobo seems to enjoy stories from Sarah’s culture and religion genuinely, but still adopts some of her mom’s bossy behavior, reminiscent of the conduct of slave owners. This also creates some tension between Sarah and Jacob, with her cutting Bobo some slack on this for being a child who doesn’t know better and happens to be uncomfortably taking after her racist mother, and him voicing what needs to be said, that this is degrading.
However, Bobo, who is obviously growing up under unorthodox circumstances and engaging in questionable behavior, such as smoking and surrounded by firearms, also seems always to be examining and working through what is right and wrong. There’s always a sense that a wave of truth could come crashing down at any moment, that her mom and family are, to put it bluntly, racist. This is also a family that is still grappling with the tragedy of losing a daughter and a sister to a drowning incident that is partially responsible for wrecking Nicola’s mental health, but has also left Boba with crippling guilt.
For as involving, engaging, and lived-in as this feels, believably recreating the location and era with much specificity, Don’t Let’s Go to the Dogs Tonight also feels incomplete because it is just one slice of that memoir, even if the film does find a natural and fitting stopping point. There are still arcs that feel unresolved, with some aspects of the third act feeling rushed and slipping into the pitfall of prioritizing a flashy performance for Embeth Davidtz, occasionally straying away from the thorny relationship between Bobo and Sarah. At the very least, Davidtz and cinematographer Willie Nel have the good sense to ensure that Bobo is caught somewhere in the frame, mostly remaining tethered to that perspective. Still, other characters such as Bobo’s soldier father (Rob van Vuuren) and abused sister (Ilana Cilliers) feel shortchanged.
The other elephant in the room is that, even if this is based on Alexandra Fuller’s memoir, the narrative’s perspective skews white, which can, at times, feel frustrating, even if it might be the right choice for this particular film. One is also left wondering what else would become of Bobo, so, while impressively performed and relatively compelling, more than anything, Don’t Let’s Go to the Dogs Tonight instills curiosity in reading the entire memoir and brushing up on the rest of her life. Regardless, hopefully Embeth Davidtz has the opportunity to continue adapting the memoir as Lexi Venter grows up to paint the whole picture.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★
Robert Kojder
