Toxic masculinity can be more than just painful — it can also be really, really embarrassing.
Director John Trengove, one of the many creatives behind the groundbreaking, patriarchy-shaking "Inxeba", asked an important question of those protesting the film's screening:
"Who are these men protesting #Inxeba? It's just a film! Where are they when women and children are raped in our communities? Where are they when gays and lesbians are murdered in our streets? Shame on them for wasting time protesting a film, when there is real work to be done."
All of Trengove's sentiments may be right — but he also got one thing wrong.
Since "Inxeba" arrived in local cinemas, the controversial film — which tackles an ignored LGBTQ+ aspect of the Xhosa manhood ritual that's been excluded from the debate — has become more than just a film: it's become a movement.
It's a movement for visibility, and for honour, and for the collapse of those traditions that fail to keep up with every aspect of a modern South Africa — surely the things an initiated man should be?
In reality, "Inxeba" does not argue whether or not the ritual should continue, as those who have not seen the film have so embarrassingly claimed while protesting. "Inxeba" actually asks how the ritual can be preserved — and elevated into something that builds better men.
To Nakhane, the film's lead (whom I interviewed prior to the film's release), the idea that the film could offend so many of his Xhosa brothers and sisters seemed outlandish.
The point, for him, wasn't to offend — even though he was aware it might — but rather to expose something that has been made a fringe issue, often lost in the debate over botched circumcision that dominates discussions around ritual circumcision in South Africa.
I asked if he was concerned about upsetting family, friends, social media and the community at large, but his concern was about the performance he was chosen to enact. His only mission was to do justice to the painful story of the initiate.
Just before our interview, I had visited the set of the film as it was reaching completion. I have been on many film, commercial, and theatrical sets, and – ask anyone who was there — this one had a special reverence about it.
In contrast to the normal fuss and drama going on behind the scenes of other film productions, the atmosphere was quiet, intense, and patient. It felt like everyone on set — from camera, make-up and costume department to the cultural consultants — was each personally invested in making something good and true.
As an observer, I felt as though I was observing the ritual itself — a sacred act of storytelling; not an insensitive pastiche purely for entertainment.
The whole controversy has really made me wonder: if revealing this uncomfortable reality is all it takes to threaten the sanctity and future of the ritual, how strong was its foundation to begin with?