Neptune Frost

The film is certainly different, but it’s also strangely gripping even if not particularly likeable or approachable.

It sometimes gets bogged down in turgid polemic, but what’s surprising is how supple and communitarian it stays.

The film is a critique of the capitalist ravages visited on Burundi and its neighbors by a technology-obsessed society. It’s also a soaring, poetic vision of a transformative future, filled with abstract scenes of singing and partying.

"Neptune Frost" is a blazingly original mood piece about humanity, technology, the Earth and our spirits and how they all tangle in rhythm, or out of rhythm, with each other.

Neptune Frost is a musical, yes, but it’s almost like a tone-poem.

It’s a difficult movie to describe with any elegance, which is a good thing, because what’s enriching about it exists more powerfully in images than in speech.

Mixing together anarchist politics and aesthetics to create something that feels punk and handmade.

A playful mash-up from deep within Africa, part dystopian dream and part cyberpunk futurist vision, dispensing striking imagery, pulsing rapper rhythms and messages against the international system

We’re giving it to Rwandan director Anisia Uzeyman and American co-director Saul Williams for their dance-driven, genderqueer, Afrofuturist, system-smashing cosmic adventure.

With their first film, funded through a successful Kickstarter campaign, Williams and Uzeyman have bypassed conventional storytelling for an aesthetically unique plea on behalf of the invisible individuals who make our wired world possible...