In this immersive cinema vérité documentary, directors Andrew Brown and Moses Thuranira offer an extremely vulnerable look into the water crisis in the nomadic community of Turkana-Ngaremara in the desert of northern Kenya.
Between the Rains was filmed during the course of four years, in which filmmakers worked together with the community to tell the story of a record low rainfall in Kenya. Through the eyes of adolescent protagonist Kole, we experience his coming of age in violence and scarcity, and his struggle to understand his identity in a rapidly changing culture.
Colonization has deeply affected Kenya's cultural landscape. Missionaries and colonial education systems left a lasting imprint on the country's religious and educational institutions. The Turkana-Ngaremara village’s resilience against the long-term violence of maintaining independence shaped their interpretation of the world and the will of nature. They live independent of western influence, aligned in their traditions and culture. The spirit of nature is revered; water most of all.
However, maintaining tribal sovereignty in a desert leaves them extremely vulnerable to Kenya's cash crop agriculture and dual economy. The rising temperature and drought has disrupted the ecosystems and added heat stress to their livestock and agricultural yields. The Turkana-Ngaremara peoples now have a new enemy, perhaps more capricious than even the rains: the neighboring tribes.
The filmmakers center on Kole’s experience of the violence incurred by climate change with voiceover. Not only is there violence between the tribes, but the filmmakers examine the concepts of strength and violence within the tribe.
To set an introduction scene, a shaman cuts open a goat and to read the intestines. The intestines will tell them when the neighboring Samburu tribe will attack, and when the rains may come. They believe that the spirit of nature is angry when they do not remember traditions. The camera lingers with Kole, unsure of his own role.
Kole is required to partake in a coming of age ceremony, in which one of his teeth is pried out of his mouth with a blunt spoon. In this unflinching depiction of the ritual, he flees after just one tooth is pulled, unable to bear the pain of more. The filmmakers film his introspection as he walks in the fittingly liminal space of twilight.
The filmmakers offer a counterpoint to Kole’s sensitivity and contemplative nature in his brother Patrick who demonstrates a more ruthless and aggressive strength.
The community overwhelmingly celebrates Patrick, subjecting Kole to the pain of unpopularity that is felt deeply by teenagers worldwide. This comparison demonstrates the character values of the village - that strength is not only a value of leaders in battle, but a core part of their interpersonal relationships. This welcomes the audience to question the complexity of how necessity has shaped cultural values. How does our capitalistic structure influence our relationships in the west? We are porous beings; how much does the context of our community and environment soak into our skin?
The cinematography emphasizes the environment, opting for wide angle lenses and utilizing establishing landscape shots and motifs. Directors emphasize the metaphors of animalistic competition by incorporating wildlife shots, as predator devours prey, or hyena attacks hyena. Though heavy-handed at times, the sheer beauty of the cinematography allows it. Brown almost always shoots in twilight, or if not possible he uses backlight or firelight to avoid the harsh midday shadows. During the filming of religious ceremonies, his gaze is overwhelmingly on the community essence, as acolytes sing, dance and burn sacrifices. These choices allow for the immersion of the audience, always framing Kole in the context of his environment.
The film does a wonderful job with Kole’s emotional journey, but struggles when it tries to bring in the outside world. A disembodied newscaster is heard labeling the region as a place with ‘no law, shelter, or mercy.’ With no context, this feels like a useless commentary. One in particular is Josephine, a character constantly on her phone making calls to the tribes, but removed from either side. We see her stressed, but she doesn’t seem to serve the story except as a vague gesture to the peacekeeping efforts.
One of the strangest choices is the music. Rather than a tribal score to sonically match the environment or a more understated musical tonal atmosphere, filmmakers choose to call out a more traditional classical music score. This choice feels like its intention is to attract wide public access by giving a familiar reference. However when the rest of the film remains so observational and neutral, this feels misaligned.
Despite these critiques, this film excitingly is part of a new wave of indigenous storytelling that provides immersive gripping contemporary narratives. No longer can we allow indigenous storytelling to take a purely historical tone. Taking place in real time, the documentarians follow two sides of a central battle. Other excellent examples include The Territory, (2022) a story of the conflict between the Uru-eu-wau-wau people in the Brazilian Amazon as they fight off the farmers and illegal settlers in their indigenous lands. Filmmaker Alex Pritz films both with settlers as well as the Uru-eu-wau-wau to explore deeper and more complex topics of economic disparity and land ownership.
Another gripping indigenous conflict documentary is Bad Press, (2023) which follows the battle of a hard-hitting news outlet, Mvskoke Media, as it takes on the tribal government’s decision to repeal their Free Press Act in advance of an election. Rogue Muscogee Creek journalist Angel is feisty and lovable as she protests, campaigns, and chain-smokes her way to a landmark decision by the Muscogee Nation. Filmmakers Rebecca Landsberry-Baker and Joe Peeler do an incredible job building a political thriller as we hear from members of each campaigning party.
At the Toronto film festival ImagineNATIVE, panelists discussed the many faces of climate change and the intersectional issues when it comes to native peoples globally. Part of the panel included how climate change is simply more poignant for indigenous peoples, as it affects language usage, urban migration, and even two-spirit identity.
Personally, as a filmmaker who has been working with the indigenous Kaquikel Maya for the past three years, I have first-hand witnessed the effects of drought. The community in Chequija this year has also experienced a record low rainfall. The Milpa (corn, beans, and squash), is their main source of income but so much more than that. It is their altar, their teacher, their workspace and their ancestral home.
Expropriation and hoarding of water and ancestral lands, guided by foreign economic interests, has been part of the history of thousands of indigenous peoples around the world as a consequence of invasive (neo-)colonialist processes, which is what makes this story so similar to Between the Rains.
For indigenous peoples, there is no time for waxing poetic romanticized notions of living at one with the environment. This is a fierce battle for survival against the catastrophic, all-encompassing effects of climate change, the product of a world that is still somewhat protected from its reach. Between the Rains exposes the realities of the people who are on the front lines of experiencing climate change, and the violence of scarcity.
Between the Rains lands a study in anthropology, a coming of age tale, and an invitation to activism. This is not a vitriolic condemnation of intertribal violence, rather the invitation to a wider conversation around the basic needs for a society to create peace.
