When I first saw U-Carmen eKhayelitsha at the 13^th New York African Film Festival in April 2006, I was mesmerized.  Because the film made such a strong social statement with its casting of Carmen, I was forced to examine my socialization of the standards of beauty.  As a result, my self-esteem has been raised and my concept of beauty has been forever broadened.

By adapting Bizet’s opera to film and setting it in a South African township, Mark Donford-May has given the world a Carmen that surpasses all previous Carmens.  Breaking with the tradition of presenting Carmen defined by the European standard of beauty, Dornford-May boldly presents us with an opportunity to expand our idea of beauty and exoticness.  Cast in the title role, Pauline Malefane kicks down the narrow stereotypical parameters that have defined beauty and raises Carmen to a new level of beauty and depth.

With skin the color of rich café au lait, and a round full-bodied figure, Malefane as Carmen turns the stereotypical image of a white, reed-thin woman with no breasts on its head.  Possessing a strength and dignity that counters the requirements for beauty in Spain, it is necessary for us to go on a mental trip before we see Carmen’s face for the first time.  In a single shot, she approaches us slowly and cautiously while our heartbeat quickens with anticipation.  Following this interminable ride to a final close-up, there she is.  Greeting us without formality of speech, she meets our gaze and allows us to see her soul while looking at her body.  Her beauty comes alive and frees us from the prejudices ingrained in our being.

As an African American woman, I felt Carmen more than watched her.  Ms. Malefane infuses the character with the strong-willed nature that every self-sufficient woman would like to display but bowing to societal pressure succumbs to the control of men.  Carmen revels in her ability to be free and will not allow a man to fit her into the subordinate box.  This Carmen refuses to be objectified.

Filmed in Khayelitsha, one sees everyday life in a South African township.  This setting offers more than a manufactured theatrical production.  Dornford-May’s camera films a world of children playing soccer; women chatting at the hair salon; men hanging out at the barber; and, people going about the business of enjoying everyday life.  The flatness of poverty is overshadowed by lives rich in substance.  One hears the laughter of little girls going to school, roller-blading boys as they call to one another, clacking of trains and the roar of trucks as they travel along unpaved streets and modern highways.  Riding along with Lulamille Nkomo (Zorrid Sidloyi) as he returns to Khayelitsha, the contrast of his expensive new car with cattle crossing a modern bridge adds another layer of texture and vibrant color to the landscape. Entwining Bizet’s music into the fabric of South African life by translating it in Xhosa is a stroke of genius.  The performance by Dimpho Di Kapone warrants “operatic conceit.”

Watching this film, I am returned to the southern United States during the era of Jim Crow when I was a child.  Our homes were not unlike the tin-roof houses of Khayelitsha.  Our daily lives shared much with the lives of the residents of Khayelitsha.  The streets were not paved and wagons pushed by old men often shared the road with shiny new cars. It is easy to enter into the Zeitgeist of Zhayelitsha.  We valued our richness of spirit before we knew that we were poor; however, those who lived outside our environment saw only our lack and labeled it poverty.  Our talents, thoughts, and abilities were not considered. To them, our demography was our destiny.

U-Carmen eKhayelitsha is a treasure to society.  It should be enjoyed by all who see it.  By opening ourselves to understanding that no one ethnic group, gender or social class holds a monopoly on any thing that is intrinsic, we become richer and the world becomes our classroom without borders.