The many levels of a story - 'Better Mus' Come' delves into a cultural minefield of ideas

Erin Hansen, Gleaner Writer

Like many of Jamaica's classic films, Better Mus' Come unearths a dark tale nestled deep within the ideological borders of zinc fencing. Not to say it should be dismissed or categorised as so. Instead, the plot navigates through a complex narrative. It questions what is good, what is evil and turns those questions on their head, creating a world in which a constant state of emergency drives one's motivations.

The film's setting, late 1970s Kingston, at a time when socialism vs capitalism was isolating communities throughout the island, gives the film ample opportunity to manoeuvre a storyline of political movement. However, director and writer Storm Saulter sticks to a fictional and more personal perspective, using main character 'Ricky' (Sheldon Shepherd) as a tragic Robin Hood hero. And like many garrison heroes with a compassionate strain, he is inevitably overthrown by his own posse for being too soft, or rather, too cautious.

'Ricky', a struggling, single father with a knack for calming the masses as much as instilling fear in them, becomes entangled in a political agenda. In a world where bloodshed is the necessary evil in pursuit of a (capitalist or socialist) ideal, he assumes the position as one of the community's most notorious foot soldiers. This is due more to being a product of his environment rather than by choice.

When he meets Kemala (Nicole Grey) at a party, a neighbourhood girl who happens to fall on the other side of the political fence, he begins to reconsider his 'badman' ways.

Turning his attention towards his young son, who is quickly falling victim to his violent path, he seeks advice from Rastafarian elders. When a contractor offers to hire his posse as security for some project or other, 'Ricky' suspects foul play and turns him away, much to the dissatisfaction of his second-in-command, 'Flames' (Ricardo Orgill).

This disagreement creates a paralysing rift within the group, later leading to a violent uprising and a tragic downfall.

The beauty of Better Mus' Come is not in its storyline of romance or brotherhood, which at times carries its plot in zig-zagging motions. Rather, the film's most poignant scenes are in the pensive moments with its main character who falters between what is right and what is necessary.

Storm conveys these moments with visual dexterity, exercising his cinematographic mastery in ways that the Jamaican film industry hasn't seen since the '70s heyday of The Harder They Come.

Juxtaposing intimacy with atmosphere, Storm manoeuvres his camera through multiple depths of field by focusing in on his characters while also stretching the shot out, capturing the essence of the community. In one scene, in which community members gather for a party, Storm captures images from multiple dimensions. He conveys the unfolding scene by weaving the storyline between its dancing patrons, the love connection of Ricky and Kemala, a boiling feud between clashing People's National Party (PNP) and Jamaica Labour Party (JLP) community members and the local police enforcement. In this compact scene, all the elements of the film are subtly engaged and conflicted - communal relief, personal connection, political gang war and tyrannical enforcement.

As actors, Shepherd and Grey orchestrate a natural chemistry on the screen, including one particularly intense bedroom scene. Grey, who is making her first adventure into film, plays her character with a tinge of rebellion and naïve boldness, countering Shepherd's placid disposition. For newcomer Ricardo Orgill, who plays Ricky's second in command 'Flames', he masters his part as the seemingly amoral and disadvantaged provocateur with the help of fellow posse member and singer 'Shortman', played by Everaldo Creary.

In the film's closing scene, an impending doom looms over the plot. The film begins with an internal monologue that forecasts the inevitable tragedy of its main character but, some how, at the tale's end, the viewer finds themselves hoping for a twist of fate. In this, Storm took the seemingly faceless villain and made him human and, in some ways, an unassuming hero.