One of the great joys of exploring cinema is the feeling of excitement you get when you discover someone for the first time. We all recall our first encounters with the great masters of their craft, the people who are seen as overarching definitions of what a great writer, director or actor should be, becoming world-renowned for their influence through a medium that has easily been established as one of the most diverse and profitable. However, it’s not only the esteemed auteurs that drive the industry but also those who exist on the margins, the artists who work laboriously to tell their stories but receive very little credit outside of the niche audiences that they build up over time. This is not always a scenario where we are supposed to feel sympathetic, since this is occasionally the ideal result, especially for filmmakers whose work arguably greatly benefitted from a shroud of obscurity. This is possibly the case for Alma’s Rainbow, in which Ayoka Chenzira tells a beautiful and very funny story about a young woman growing up in Brooklyn, who is caught between the strict standards asserted onto her by her patrician single mother, and the liberation promoted by her free-spirited aunt, the three women engaging in a battle of wits throughout a short period, getting to know each other in the process and discovering so much about one another through engaging with the people closest to them. It’s a poetic ode to the culture in which the director was raised, and her forthright efforts to develop certain ideas, infusing them with so much complexity and nuance, which all work together to create such a touching and compelling work of independent comedy, a term that this film defines in all senses. Chenzira may not be particularly well-known outside of the firm circle of devoted admirers that she has assembled over a career that goes back nearly half a century, but if there was ever an opportunity to celebrate a true pioneer of the craft, it would be now, and Alma’s Rainbow is the perfect vessel with which to carry her legacy to a much broader audience.

From the outset, it is clear that Alma’s Rainbow is a film that looks at the subject of femininity, as shown through the theme of family. The majority of what we see in this film are interactions between the three main characters, each one focusing on a different issue that these women face. They are from different generations and have entirely varied tastes, careers and pursuits, and the only reason they are assembled is because they are family, which bonds them and forces each one to reconsider their interpersonal relationship under the forthright belief that there is a much more important connection that draws them together. This is the starting point of the film, but it’s not the entire narrative identity, since it goes in many different directions once we have grown comfortable and have learned to appreciate and understand the merits of the film, which is quite non-traditional in its approach (which we will discuss momentarily), but which has an immense amount of genuine heartfulness that manifests in this wonderful characters. Credit must go to the actors, with this soul-stirring depiction of the relationship between these three women being brought to life by the actors, which include newcomer Victoria Gabrielle Platt as the daughter, and industry veteran Kim Weston-Moran, as her pernickety mother who may be hard on her but simply wants her to lead a good life, and Mizan Kirby, who is the embodiment of the most beautiful kind of eccentricity in her role as the aunt who knows she can change this girl’s life and broaden her horizons should she get the opportunity. The cast is excellent, but these three actors in particular are the ones who stand out and deliver such fantastic and compelling performances that leap right into the heart of these characters, developing them into unimpeachably human figures, and creating a situation where we feel entirely at ease with these characters, who are so complex but also extremely lovable, which was an important quality in defining and establishing the emotional heart that exists right at the centre of this film.

Tonally, Alma’s Rainbow is quite distinct, especially because it was made by someone whose entire career was defined by her refusal to adhere to conventions, even if it meant outwardly challenging the status quo in its entirety. In the most direct terms, this film is one in which nothing happens – it is essentially just 90 minutes of vignettes in the lives of these three women as they navigate various challenges. There is a narrative thread that weaves throughout the film and ties all these episodic moments together into something coherent, but it is mostly a film in which we need to pay attention to the smaller details since these are the most striking elements. There’s an elegance to the approach taken that aids us in comprehending the general themes that drive the entire film – ultimately, the level of how much a viewer will enjoy Alma’s Rainbow depends on the extent to which they can buy into what the film is selling, which is understandably slightly more complex in terms of understanding the correlation between the narrative and the specific ideas that exist on the periphery. The best way to view this film is as a perpetual wave, ebbing and flowing, each repetition bringing new ideas, as well as washing away those that have lingered there for a while – and our experience with Alma’s Rainbow ultimately depends on how much we can leap onto this wavelength and ride the horizon with these characters, who are certainly fascinating enough to earn our time, and appreciation, granted they strike a chord. It’s not a particularly easy film in terms of how it is paced, and it can sometimes feel overly jagged – but this is all in favour of a very distinct directorial vision brought to the film by Chenzira, whose fascinating artistic ideas far outweigh anything else that could be considered a narrative or visual shortcoming of this otherwise very charming film.

Existing in the same colourful version of Brooklyn established by pioneers like Spike Lee, who was an undeniable influence on this film in terms of both tone and visual approach, Alma’s Rainbow is a delightfully charming and very insightful film that takes on some intimidatingly large issues, but finds a way to condense them into smaller, more intimate stories, the kind that we can feel yearned to be told, but rarely could find the platform as a result of the belief that such narratives are not particularly important. A pioneer in her own right, Chenzira understood the importance of simply taking that leap, and while this is not a film that shatters boundaries or does anything we haven’t seen before, the very fact that it represents a more diverse audience by giving the platform to a black female director to present her story, using her unique artistic voice to craft a compelling character-driven drama, is ultimately part of the immense appeal that drives this film. Alma’s Rainbow is driven by a masterful combination of gentle humour and poignant melancholy, which work together surprisingly well, depicting the story of these three characters as they navigate the challenges that come with not only being both people of colour and women, in a society that was historically hostile to anyone outside of the patriarchal system that governed the culture but also having to share the burden with their families, who begin to see the same issues faced by their women in their daily life. It is a revealing and powerful story, and it mercifully filters this all through the lens of a more tender comedy, knowing that there is a level of absurdity that drives this film that cannot be underestimated, which is a terrific description of this film as a whole, which is ultimately all part of the greater conversation surrounding the difficult but rewarding act of exploring one’s identity.