Photosensitivity Warning: There are a few scenes of refracted light that may be triggering for sensitive viewers.

In August 2020, a video of 11-year-old Anthony Mmesoma Madu dancing outside of his ballet school went viral, garnering attention not just from the general populace and news outlets, such as Good Morning America, but from dance-affiliated institutions like Elmhurst Ballet School in Birmingham, England. Having seen his video, the people at Elmhurst recognized raw talent and reached out to Anthony’s family to invite him to study at their school. Ahead of its Disney+ release in March of this year, the co-directed project Madu by filmmakers Matt Ogens (Home + Away) and Joel ‘Kachi Benson (Daughters of Chibok) will have its world premiere at the Santa Barbara International Film Festival, inviting audiences to join Anthony as the young aspiring ballet dancer leaves his home for his first year at Elmhurst, following the various challenges of uprooting oneself to a strange place in pursuit of a dream.

Even with the tools and techniques of your average documentary obvious in its execution, Madu defies expectations. It doesn’t directly explore Anthony’s experiences at Elmhurst, it doesn’t seek to evaluate what it means for a young boy to, essentially, be plucked out of his small town and placed into a much larger environment. It barely bothers to point out how Anthony’s assimilation into this world is going and how that shifts things a bit with his own family. Each of these are significant questions which could be, on their own, a totally different narrative than the one Ogens and Benson place before audiences. It’s not that the documentarians aren’t interested in these things or don’t see the value in them, it’s that the execution of the story as a whole isn’t interested in being traditional, in doing things in a typical way, instead, opting to embody the energy and emotionally complex drama swirling within Anthony.

Anthony Madu in the documentary MADU. Photo courtesy of the Santa Barbara International Film Festival.

In a traditional doc, when Anthony speaks to his family via video call, the focus would remain on Anthony, perhaps getting an over the shoulder angle so that we can see to whom he’s speaking unless maintaining the family as a vocal presence is all the documentarians need. Instead, we’re shown the other side of the call, as well, implying that the camera crew didn’t just zero in on Anthony, but extended the emotions of the narrative to include the family’s real-time reactions to his words. As a stylistic choice, this seems to lean into Anthony’s mother’s words when she tells him not to forget who he is or where he came from before leaving for Elmhurst. If they were to remain just voices on the other side of a call, his family, his home in Nigeria, would become this ethereal thing; this existing, but not top-of-mind thing and, therefore, without corporeal form. The continued coverage of the family means that no matter what part of the school year it is for Anthony, whenever he checks in, there’s a good chance that we’ll see his family, too.

This is also indicative of a style choice wherein Ogens and Benson lean into the object of Anthony’s perseverance and passion: dance. Ballet comes with rules and restrictions, just like a documentary, with the dancer or filmmaker required to do certain things in order to fit within the genre; yet, dance also allows for artistic expression, for personal choices within a routine wherein the performance isn’t a precise piece but one of the dancer’s creation. As filmmakers, Ogens and Benson lean into this, giving their film dramatic license. This takes shape in sequences such as when the film captures Anthony’s father working on the family motorcycle and talking about missing his son, only for Anthony to appear and begin dancing in front of him. This is an emotional manipulation for us and is certainly atypical from what one expects of this type of doc, making manifest Anthony’s father’s memory in his longing to see his son again. This is not the only way that Ogens and Benson style their film to bring the audience into the story, to make us as much a part of the film as possible. None of this is specifically a bad thing, it’s incredibly effective at bringing out the intended emotion and building a connection between audience and subjects, cultivating investment in the journey Anthony goes on. Madu is an emotional journey, made all the more powerful by filmmakers utilizing tools more frequently tied to traditional fiction narratives.

Just as in art, the interpretation of things is as much of what we see as what’s in the negative space. So when I suggest that there’s some interrogating questions one expects, look to the metaphorical sidelines of the frame and you’ll see that Ogens and Benson didn’t leave these things out entirely. One gets a clear view of Anthony’s relationship to his family, specifically his close younger brother, as well as to the friends he makes at school. We see how they engage him, how they react and respond to him, and, in so doing, get our answers regarding assimilation. We don’t need an outward expression of support from his parents (though he does receive it) because we’re shown what they do for Anthony, these acts speak volumes louder than any word. Madu may lack a certain clarity that traditionalists may seek, but that doesn’t make the film any less emotionally powerful or encouraging to other artistic dreamers, wherever they reside.

World premiere February 7^th during Santa Barbara International Film Festival 2024.
Available on Disney+ March 29^th, 2024.

Final Score: 3.5 out of 5.

Categories: In Theaters, Reviews, streaming

Tags: Anthony Madu, dance, Disney+, documentary, English, film festival, Forger, Hunting Lane Films, Igbo, Joel ‘Kachi Benson, Madu, Matt Ogens, Nigeria, Santa Barbara International Film Festival, Santa Barbara International Film Festival 2024, United Kingdom, United States, Walt Disney Studios