Imran Hamdulay’s short film The Wait addresses privilege and prejudice in South African society as he uses the police station. When Mzu encounters elderly who is continually passed by as he waits to be attended to in a police station, he sees it as an opportunity to advocate for this vulnerable member of the community. As we look back on the 31st New York African Film Festival, the Cape Town-based filmmaker discusses the inspiration behind his film, his unconventional path to becoming a director, and what it meant to him to make his NYAFF debut. 

Cassell: Your film features people from different castes or class categories. How did you further the narrative or build tension using or including those contrasting racial and class categories?

Hamdulay: My approach to the film was always looking at the setting of a police station as an allegory for South African society. In South Africa, on a daily basis, you’re faced with the inequality of the system that governs us. But in some ways, we’re also faced with how Apartheid still haunts us and it lives in our society in a big way, you know. That lives in the spaces we move through, in a restaurant you walk into, and you’re like, ‘Whoa, I feel totally out of place in this restaurant as a person of color,’ you know? So in that sense, you’re constantly reminded of either your race or your cultural background. That made me interested in, how that exists in the system. The idea of a line: who is at the front of that line and who is at the back of the line? It’s something so literal that it shouldn’t work. But I was kind of like, ‘Wow, this is actually an interesting way to analyze this, to literally put people in a line and say, who’s in front and who is at the back? And how is that line determined?’ So for me, looking at it through that lens just lent a natural [conclusion] of, what does privilege look like? What does racial privilege look like? What does opportunity and opportunity based on historical disadvantages mean? That’s what inspired those themes of the film. Another angle I looked at was: what is our place in all of that? It’s all good to ask the government to rectify the injustices of the past, but what is our place as individuals who have the privilege of democracy? What’s our position in democracy, you know? My lead character Mzu walked in and decided ‘I’m going to try and get this old man to the front of the queue for these reasons.’ And [I ask] why would that be a struggle? It was an interesting way for me to deal with some of the frustrations I have as a South African citizen.

Cassell: I recently did an interview with another South African filmmaker who was a part of the Festival. There are so many similarities but also stark differences between American and South African society. Because you were just in New York, in your experience, what were the differences and similarities between them?

Hamdulay: You’re absolutely right. That’s why I find America quite fascinating, there are so many similarities between our societies and especially people of color’s placement in our respective societies. And I think it’s a big reason why specifically African Americans are big allies in the struggle against Apartheid because African Americans completely understand it. They completely understand the nature of racial segregation, and what colonization in all forms– culturally and spatially–feels like. I think the difference is that our democracy is so young in South Africa. We’ve made great strides in South Africa as a democracy, but our government has failed us in so many ways as well. I’m not here to make excuses for our government, and they should always be held accountable. But at the same time, Apartheid was a sophisticated system, and it was engineered in a way that when we made the transition to democracy, power still stayed with the white minority, and that power lay in capital. So we inherited a system that was broken and rotten inside, and we started by trying to fix that system. It’s been 25 years, and we’re still doing that. And I think in some ways, as a society, we speak about the past openly. We reckon with it in a way where we try to hold ourselves and our government accountable. It doesn’t always work. And what I see in America is that some of the injustices of the past are so entrenched in the veil of democracy, you know? 

Cassell: Absolutely. 

Hamdulay: That’s the big difference. God, it’s such a layered topic, but I love it. American democracy, while it’s celebrated around the world, is a bit of a facade in some ways. Beneath the veil, you look at Congress and it’s very [easy] to see that it’s made up of older white men who already have privilege that spans across many years. I just think it’s because over time these injustices have been so entrenched in American society and democracy. It might be slightly more difficult to unearth that, and they become ghosts in the ground that constantly haunt you and I can see that similarity in South African society. But I do feel hopeful that in South Africa, our democracy and our democratic institutions are strong enough that maybe we can hold our government and those in power a little bit more accountable because capitalism hasn’t yet completely dominated our system. I hope it doesn’t.

Cassell: Yeah, it’s a complicated topic. You raised a good point that America is older so a lot of the systems are [more entrenched]. You use the word facade. So I think there’s been a lot of time to make over and to put that veil up, almost like putting makeup on a pig. In your film you use the allegory of the police station. We see it come across as a general lack of care and a lack of knowledge negatively impacting the older generations and the treatment they get in society in South Africa. What role do you think film plays in improving conditions for older, disabled, minority South Africans? 

Hamdulay: It’s such an interesting question. When I read it, I was thinking, how do I answer this? At the moment, I’m writing a feature film about an elderly couple, and it’s a romance about two people both in their seventies. Doing the research for the film, I struggled to find films that have people that age as lead characters who are complex, and who have interesting and deep emotional cores that anyone can wrestle with. I found that striking how in pop culture we see aging [people] and the elderly as sideline characters as opposed to honorable characters. I think when it comes to specifically African and Asian cultures, we are taught to honor our elderly. That’s why, for me, it’s so exciting that there are more African filmmakers writing and getting funding within Africa. Our stories aren’t, the stories we make aren’t decided by institutions in Europe. I’d like to see more of that. So in terms of how film impacts that, I think it’s a duty of ours to make it visible. I think that’s important. There’s that [saying]: ‘A failed society is often defined by how they treat children and how they treat the elderly.’ I find that an interesting way to measure even film as a medium. 

Cassell: Your short film does such an effective job of getting the audience mad at everyone’s complacency. It’s one of those films where I think you get to see, ‘Okay, well, what would you do in that situation?’ It is a call to action in a way. So I really appreciate that element of it. I also wanted to know what drove you to explore this allegory in this specific way, using the case of this elderly man who probably is suffering from some type of cognitive disease brought on by old age and/or genetics. Was there inspiration from real life?

Hamdulay: Yeah, I had the situation actually happen to me. I went into a police station, I sat down, and there was an old man at the end of the queue. He had been sitting there, everyone had been going past him, and he was kind of chipper. We’re chatting for like ten minutes, and then I realized, ‘Oh, wow, you’ve been like, you’ve been here a long time.’ And luckily, in that scenario, I got up and I went to the desk and I said, ‘Hey, this old man has been waiting,’ and they were really accommodating. But that kind of planted the seed because everyone had passed him. My thinking was like, okay, I could easily ask the guy in front to give up his place, but I was kind of like is that a way to deal with the situation? That’s what got me thinking about this idea of waiting and waiting at the back of a queue, like this old man. And so the story itself was that incident that inspired me. At the same time, there was a radio interview with a South African scholar, a professor of sociology, and he said that he believes deeply that the reason our democracy works, it still functions and is strong, is because South Africans are wise and patient people. And I thought ‘Wow, that’s a fascinating way to look at it,’ but then the more I thought about it is that with patience comes a lot of waiting: you’re waiting for the injustices of the past to be rectified; you’re waiting for equal opportunity as people of color. You’re waiting for many severe imbalances in society to be rectified. With that comes a lot of frustration as well as meditation. This film and the story came from me [being] introspective about those questions and those notions. And, yeah, I found myself writing a story about the police station.

Cassell: The wait is a much bigger concept than just the wait in the line, after all. Even that wording is interesting because I think waiting has no place in how people participate in their government. In the festival, there’s a lot of community participation. So I wanted to ask, did you collaborate with local communities to bring this film to life? And how did the casting process go?

Hamdulay: The contained nature of the film meant that there weren’t large communities we were interacting with, but the film community. The way we work–my producers Kausi, Dalia, and I–is that our film crew and our close collaborators, we hold ourselves accountable to being at least 80% have to be people of color. There’s a big imbalance in the film industry in South Africa. Around the world, it tends to be like that. And then outside the film aspect, I’ve got some family members who are in law enforcement. I grew up with a neighbor that was a police officer and she’s a little bit older than me, but I spoke to her quite a bit about what it’s like working as a police officer. There were some interesting conversations I had with her that also really forced me to think more deeply about the role of not only public institutions, but also people who work in public institutions and the lack of control they also have within those spaces. So in that sense, I did some of the research. I spent time in one or two police stations just hanging out with just to get a feel of the ins and outs of what the daily routines are in a police station. So, yeah, that’s kind of the interactions I had while I thinking about in researching the story. 

Cassell: So your film features characters from different generations coming together. How have intergenerational relationships impacted your work as a whole? 

Hamdulay: I’m obsessed with these themes. I’m in post-production on a feature film at the moment, and it deals with intergenerational trauma between fathers and sons. I’m fascinated by how masculinity is passed on and what type of masculinity is passed on. I’m really intrigued by the dualities that exist between the past and the present. I think specifically, I look at it through the lens of men because that’s kind of my inclination. In the case of the film, you have an older man who carries the burden of the past and a younger man who carries the fire of the present. These two are linked; they’re not mutually exclusive. When they meet that’s when interesting things happen and that’s when who they are is revealed. Personally, I’ve been lucky to have good mentors who have helped me arrive at the place I am where I can make films in South Africa. I take mentorship quite seriously as well. I love working with younger filmmakers because I would not be here today had I not had mentors. In the community I grew up in, film was never an option, it was just something white people did. It’s important that in my community, I am someone a young person can be like, hey, I can go talk to this guy because I know him through a friend of a friend. It’s important not just for me but [for the] industry. I think about industry and film internationally–if stories are going to grow and be more inclusive, we need more diverse voices telling those stories, you know? 

Sometimes I don’t know how I arrived at this place. I come from an immigrant family. I’m a second-generation Indian. And I lost my dad when I was really young. I was not meant to go down this career path. My Indian mom was like, ‘You gotta be an engineer. You gotta be a doctor,’ and I studied economics at university. 

Cassell: As so many people who end up down a path like yours do! 

Hamdulay: I’ll never forget walking up to my university one day and standing on the steps, I was just thinking, ‘What am I doing here?’ I just felt so empty. There was a hollowness inside, and I just didn’t go back. I just decided I’m not going. I was young, I was 19. I didn’t tell my mom I’m not going back. And, yeah, I kept going there. I kept pretending to go into university until the end of the year. Then I just said, ‘Hey, actually, I can’t do this anymore.’ She was kind of like, ‘Okay, cool. If you’re not going to do that, then you got to figure out what you’re going to do.’ 

Cassell: Those moments are very important. [They] lead you to the right path or a path that is much more fitting and makes you feel like you’re not a fraud.

Hamdulay: Yeah, it’s hard and you’ve got to reckon with that every day because that feeling of being a fraud just morphs and lives inside you in a different way, where every day I’m like, ‘Oh, my God, like, people trust me as a director?’ What’s that about? Like you’re not good enough or you’re just pretending to know what you’re doing and at some point, you’re going to be caught out. But also, in a way,  I think it keeps me on my toes. It means I can’t be complacent. I need to keep learning every day. I have to be a student of my craft.

Cassell: Finally, even though you did not attend the Festival, how did presenting your film to an international audience at NYAFF31 allow you to further the conversations your film set out to address?

Hamdulay: The moment The Wait was accepted into the Festival, I was thrilled. You know, it’s a festival that I respect so much. It’s the biggest celebration of African cinema outside of Africa. I see it as such a prestigious institution. The archiving of African films is so important, and within Africa, it’s a problem. The fact that it’s happening in New York, I love that. It opens up a chance for African filmmakers to gain an international audience. And if that’s simply through someone watching the film or as a director making the move to doing American films or bigger films. Having not attended the Festival but simply having that laurel on my poster, already opens up doors for me in other spaces outside of the NYAFF. I’m really thankful for that and I hope my upcoming film will be at the festival next year and I can actually attend.

For updates on his future films, follow Imran Hamdulay on Instagram.