Perhaps, like me, you can recall your earliest introduction to South African movies and shows. Transient as my memory is, I can remember passionately watching How to Ruin Christmas and getting gradually entombed in the well-curated comic world of the show. After How to Ruin Christmas, in a noble attempt to follow my obsession with South African films and shows, I watched Queen Sono, Silverton Siege, Jewel, Savage Beauty, Blood and Water, Of Good Report, Amandla, and The Valley of a Thousand Hills. Reflecting on these movies and shows in hindsight, a pattern establishes itself. Some of the previously-mentioned shows and movies are reiterations of the country’s violence-prone racial history. In these retrospective movies and shows, there is a pattern of revisiting the country’s traumatic colonial history. Closely linked and trailing these contemplative movies and shows is the rise of crime thriller films. This fascination could be latched to the country’s lengthy colonial history and steady increase in crime.
Paying close attention to these newly-adopted motifs of South African film, Fatal Seduction begins at a crime scene. As we passively follow an unidentified woman being escorted into a waiting police van, we catch a glimpse of a sword, a gun, and a body receiving attention from health workers. From these objects, the show informs viewers that a crime has been committed. Intimating viewers with plot details leading to the crime scene becomes the aim of the show. To do this, the show launches into an unconvoluted flashback.
Nandi(Kgomotso Christopher) and Leonard Mahlati(Thapelo Mokoena), the couple the show orbits around, are in a fragile place in their marriage following the occurrence of a past and painful incident that has invited distrust into their relationship. Amidst this near-to-toxic relationship is Zinhle(Ngele Ramulondi), their daughter. Her alternative fashion sense and penchant for exploring her sexual identity aside, Zinhle acts as an anchor for her parents. Brenda(Lunathi Mampofu), Nandi’s best friend and occasional confidant, is a carefree and expressive woman suffering from depression. She plugs her trauma with alcohol and drugs. Vuyo(Nat Ramabulan) is a private investigator and one-time lover of Nandi. The pilot episode of the show introduces the distinct identity of its major characters and their roles.
In one of Nandi’s conversations with Brenda, we get a teeming sense of the possibility of Nandi’s marriage dissolving. It is in this close-to-collapsing marriage that Jacob(Prince Grootboom) carefully introduces himself. After sharing drinks and trading stories, in their first “coincidental ” meeting, Jacob and Nandi’s first sexual intimacy occurs. After then, the plot is propelled forward by their passionate but dangerous relationship: Jacob is Nandi’s student – she is a Law Professor. Contrary to Nandi’s suspicion, her husband is faithful. Hence, her infidelity is unjustified. As infidelity becomes a topic in the show, an urgent question comes to the fore: Are humans naturally monogamous?
At first, there is a prevailing reluctance that accompanies Nandi’s meetings with Jacob. Those reluctant movements and gestures are an indication of her sense of guilt. The cinematography, handled by Trevor A. Brown, constantly highlights her wedding ring to full glare during her clandestine encounters with Jacob. Gradually, that noticeable reluctance – a subtle noose of patriarchal dictate fastened around her psychologically, begins to diminish. As she revisits the fodder of footage of her sexual encounters with Jacob for pleasure, she wears the countenance of a woman who won’t be bullied by shame for pursuing her desires.
Nandi is a Law Professor and her classes, which are mostly hurried, account for the few intellectual scenes in the show. In reeling out statistics(2700 femicides are committed yearly in South Africa) and casually addressing gender-based topics in her classes, the show reveals how deeply-rooted gender-based violence is in the country. Although one of the characters of the show becomes a victim of gender-based violence, the show sadly fails to follow through with inviting viewers to a well-researched class discussion on the topic. Her lectures also act as predictions of the plot: oblivious to the murder of her close friend, she reels out the yearly statistics of femicide in South Africa. In another class, while discussing cyber grooming, we learn that her daughter is being virtually baited into revealing family information to the scheming Jacob.
In this show, Cape Town, where the show is set, gets deliberately marketed. The landscape and expansive shots act as a sort of tourist guide showcasing the beauty of South African cities, Cape Town and Western Cape. Captured by Trevor A. Brown and assisted by Jonno Searle and aerial shots from Nick Riley. The landscape serves as a subtle indication of the characters’ affiliation to distinct social classes. Similar to other South African shows, Blood and Water and Savage Beauty, Fatal Seduction concerns itself with a working-class character’s personal pursuit of justice. In Blood and Water, Puleng Khumalo(Ama Qamata) is rightly obsessed with pursuing her long-lost sister’s kidnappers. In Savage Beauty, Zinhle(Rosemary Zimu) aims to exact revenge on Don Bhengu(Dumisani Mbebe) for a crime he committed against her family. In the two shows and Fatal Seduction, a working-class character is pursuing justice without institutional support. In a cruel representation of reality, the ruling-class characters often evade justice.
Prior to Fatal Seduction premiering on Netflix, the official trailer of the film had courted media backlash. The prevailing issue given voice in the backlash is how trite South African Netflix film production has become; same crime thriller genre and excessive intimate scenes. Without adorning this review with moralist sentiments and intentions, the sexual scenes do a disservice to the overarching issues the show sets out to address. By using the sexual scenes to propel the show forward, the political and cultural issues these shows aim to address compete for attention in viewers’ minds.
Sex sells. But sex also subverts important issues into footnotes.
Seyi Lasisi is a Nigerian student with an obsessive interest in Nigerian and African films as an art form. His film criticism aspires to engage the subtle and obvious politics, sentiments, and opinions of the filmmaker to see how it aligns with reality. He tweets @SeyiVortex.