Every writer at some point feels the urge to be the one to compose the novel that encapsulates the entirety of their country or culture’s history, believing that they are capable of creating the definitive work, whether they are willing to openly admit it or not. In terms of literature from Southern Africa, there are a number of landmark texts, written over many decades, all of which are designed to represent the vibrant cultures and deep, often haunting history of the region, particularly those that were either written or take place in the last forty years of the 20th century. One of the defining texts is Don’t Let’s Go to the Dogs Tonight, the autobiographical novel by Alexandra Fuller, which she wrote over a number of years, and which is set in Southern Rhodesia (now known as Zimbabwe) in the ambiguous space between the end of the Rhodesian Bush War and the 1980 presidential election that essentially saw a complete dismissal of the country’s colonial past and the ascent of Robert Mugabe as one of the most notorious leaders in African history. However, neither of these topics are the focus, instead acting as the background to her deeply personal story of growing up on a farm, bought by her parents during the colonial era, and which they suddenly realise can easily be taken away from them should the upcoming election not go in the way that they are expecting. All of this is shown through the eyes of Fuller herself, back when she was known mostly as “Bobo”, the rambunctious and fearless seven-year-old whose small stature concealed a lionhearted bravery and deep curiosity that made her pay careful attention to the world around her, as well as the rapid changes that seem to be occuring. The novel is the subject of an adaptation, in which Embeth Davidtz makes her directorial debut with this fascinating exploration of the past, returning to the region in which she spent a lot of her life during a similar period, and allowing her to critically engage with Fuller’s complex, engaging account of her childhood.

The reason Don’t Let’s Go to the Dogs Tonight has proven to be such a beloved text, and a mainstay of every bookshelf in Southern Africa based on its popularity and the fact that it is constantly in publication, has to do with Fuller’s very direct perspective, as well as the honesty with which she is willing to lay out her experiences in the late 1970s and early 1980s, a period where Africa was undergoing many challenging shifts, particularly in terms of people being motivated to not just restrict themselves to the laws that suppress them, but rather fighting against what they viewed as a truly unfair system. These are all very powerful concepts, and which Fuller beautifully represents throughout her novel – and knowing the importance of these themes (especially based on her own firsthand experience), Davidtz makes it her primary intention to unpack the many fascinating themes present in the novel, using them as the foundation on which she constructs this entire film. The film only adapts the portions in which Fuller lives in Zimbabwe (ending just before her family make their way to Malawi and then Zambia), which gives the film a sense of purpose in focusing on one particular chapter in her life, and perhaps the most important, as it is the one where she found herself slowly being radicalised to a movement that she has shown herself to be fully in support of over the years. There is something intriguing about a story of civil unrest, social and political change and the impact of history being made right in front of us that is filtered through the eyes of a child – their innocence intermingles with the more harsh aspects to create a unique perspective, something that the director emphasises in certain aspects of the narrative, which prove to be a lot more simple and elegant than we would expect.

As far as the execution goes, Davidtz does make it clear that she is a first-time filmmaker, so therefore certain conventions are followed quite closely in order to give the film structure and consistency. The results are as we would expect – a solid, well-crafted coming-of-age drama that doesn’t reinvent the genre but rather adds another solid entry into the canon of great works that centre around this region and its people at a crucial point in the past. There is nothing that the director does here that comes as a surprise, but considering how very rarely we find notable dramatic works being produced in South Africa, which has shifted its focus to more traditional entertainment in an effort to bolster the fledgling film industry, her efforts are still nonetheless appreciated, especially with the presence of Fuller as an executive producer, guiding the production by providing additional insights and approval to the elements that Davidtz chooses to highlight. What does stand out is the control of emotions – Fuller’s book is filled with vivid, complex descriptions of her life and the challenges she faced, with passages of extraordinary details that most filmmakers would believed to be too unwieldy to portray on screen, especially the more personal moments, such as those dealing with the death of Fuller’s sister or her mother’s alcoholism, both of which became an enormous aspect of her life that shaded in the author’s childhood, and a burden she only was able to begin shedding when she committed pen to paper. All of this is well-communicated throughout the film, with Don’t Let’s Go to the Dogs Tonight being focused less on forcing the audience to feel certain emotions, and more exploring the author’s experiences with a blend of tender expression and some very stark depictions of her early life, amounting to a film that consistently portrays the challenges of Fuller’s formative years, but in a way that is sincere and heartfelt in all the areas that matter.

In addition to directing the film, Davidtz also casts herself as Nicola, the family’s matriarch who is responsible for the day-to-day running of the farm while her husband is frequently away. She’s a stellar actor, but someone whose skills have been oddly underused over the years, so its not surprising that she would jump at the opportunity to play such a complex, layered character. Many actors would be thrilled to play the part, since a grieving alcoholic in the midst of an existential crisis trying to maintain order in her family while her country falls apart is a very enticing role, but one that could have been relentlessly frustrating in the hands of someone who didn’t quite understand the nuances needed for the role. Davidtz does very good work, and is the emotional anchor that the film required to be as effective as it was, which is a credit to both her skill as an actor and a director, her responsibility being to find the balance. However, she is actually a supporting player, since its Lexi Venter who leads the film, and despite her very young age and relative lack of experience, she delivers an astonishing performance, one in which she demonstrates that she’s wise beyond her years and has a maturity and complexity that almost contradicts her age. There are layers to her performance that extend beyond the trope of the overly precocious young protagonist, and while the film is mostly very simple in its execution, Venter delivers such a quiet, complex performance of this character – and considering how deeply personal this story was, it was important that the person chosen to bring the character to life on screen committed to it entirely. The film may be very simple, but Venter is worth watching the film for her beautiful, soulful portrayal of this young girl who is discovering that life is not as easy as she may expect, and that the outside world has many surprises in store for her, something she begins to understand as she witnesses that the march of time does not wait for a single soul.

Don’t Let’s Go to the Dogs Tonight is a fascinating book, and while it achieved considerable success internationally, it has special resonance for anyone who grew up or has at least spent some time in Southern Africa, since it conveys the history of the region and its people in a way that will only truly register with those who have either experienced it for themselves or have existed in close proximity to the generations of people who have. There is a feeling of longing for a sense of belonging in the midst of extreme socio-political chaos that is beautifully communicated in the book, and now in this effective and moving adaptation that examines the trials and tribulations of a family trying to make sense of a changing world, realising that adapting isn’t a choice, but a necessity. It’s a subtle, compelling examination of this period, with Davidtz proving to be a very competent filmmaker, someone able to extract the key themes of the text and develop them in such a way that they feel earnest and genuine, while also adding some unique directorial flourishes that prevent the film from being too overly didactic, a true concern when adapting a work that is not easily translated to the screen. It’s a profoundly moving work that looks at several themes that everyone will at least partially recognise, being both a solid period drama about a specific moment in the past, and a steadfast character study about a young girl growing up in a time of enormous upheaval. Poignant and endearing, the film is very effective and brings this book to life in a way that is honest, poetic and never anything short of persuasive in how it shows this simple but evocative journey of self-discovery, paying tribute to the many people who set out to change the world through quiet, resilient acts of defiance, even those whose young age may have prevented them from being taken entirely seriously at the time, but nonetheless forging a path for themselves for the future.