It's a remarkable and heartwarming story, even if not always executed with the most cinematic vision, which probably comes down to the Australian film-makers, Robert Coe and Warwick Ross, hearing about the team's story only a month before the competition and almost immediately jumping on a plane to meet them. Charmed, they began filming, no doubt with an eagerness to capture the excitement and stress of the lead-up to the competition and nary a visual plan in their minds. Subsequently there are some cringy visual sequences of the men doing a cliched slow-motion power walk through the streets of Capetown. It's probably tongue-in-cheek but nevertheless felt a bit artless.
The main supporting characters are two arrogant French wine experts who have the kind of impassioned tiff over Team Zimbabwe's pre-competition training that only two arrogant French wine experts can have. It's fun to watch but it's the charm of the four teammates - Pardon, Joseph, Tinashe and Marlvin - that carries the film. They're extremely likable guys and while I would've liked to see more of the true team dynamic come out, I appreciate the tone of this film was inspirational. Its intent is to tell a story about triumph over the extreme adversity of displacement and not the interpersonal conflicts that inevitably arise in a team under pressure.
I've always thought of professional wine tasting as a symbol of elitism and, frankly, a little bit silly but in the case of Team Zimbabwe it represents something quite different. Whether they win or not, they've overcome incredibly poor odds to be there and that's joyous to watch.
HE SAW
We were only a few minutes into the film when I found myself smiling and looked over at Zanna to see her smiling also. Although I have no recollection of what was being said, I can clearly remember the face of the character who was speaking, Marlvin, and the fact he was so full of joy that it spilled out of him and into us, and I was struck by the fact that for all the technical and structural complexity involved in making a film, it's ultimately a delivery device for a feeling.
Blind Ambition is a story that begins with great suffering, but is quickly awash with not just joy, but also wonder and excitement - which is ironic, because at one point a wine expert talks about the requirements of a blind wine tasting, which the movie's protagonists are about to engage in - and says that what it requires is such intense analysis that participants must actively disengage the parts of their brain responsible for pleasure.
This dichotomy of pleasure vs work is at the heart not just of the wine industrial complex, but of life, and is best represented in the movie by the Zimbabwean team's two French coaches: serious-minded pro JV and off-the-wall Frenchman Denis. On the last day before the big competition, JV wants the team to spend the day studying for success and Denis wants to take them to a beautiful chateau to have a laugh and a few drinks with the owner while enjoying the view. The pair have a big blow-up in the carpark and the team goes with Denis. I said to Zanna that I felt this was the moment when the team realised what really mattered in life. She disagreed, and said Denis wasn't taking them seriously as competitors.
After the film, when I asked what she thought of it, she said it lacked a coherent visual style. When I asked what she meant by that, she said, "The film-makers didn't do anything interesting visually."
"You'd have liked some animations or charts?" I said.
"No," she said, "Just consistency of vision. Their interview frames were all different."
"Carry on," I said.
"Well, that was it really." she said. After a few seconds, she added: "It was an incredibly charming documentary."
"Why did you think it was charming?" I said.
"Because those men were charming."
"Oh," I said. "You were in love with them."
"I did find them very charming," she said, and giggled. The giggle didn't require further explanation.
Blind Ambition is in cinemas now.
