Come for the rave, stay for the resistance
Through iconic footage and fresh interviews, a new documentary chronicles an explosive era of the SA club scene, writes Binwe Adebayo
Music documentaries are increasingly becoming a dime a dozen. From short snippet doccies by artists themselves, to the Viceland and Complex offerings, these films often speak into a momentary fad — a chronicle of the fleeting flavour of the month. Rave and Resistance is not like that. Directed by filmmaker Zandi Tisani, the documentary is a blunt, bright and brilliant chronicle of club culture in SA during the late ’80s and early ’90s. Featuring wellknown and loved characters like Oskido, Trompies and DJ Christos, it is, to use Indian thinker Ravi Sundaram’s words, a celebration of the “poetics of infrastructure”. It’s not just about music, or clubbing, or history or politics, but rather moves between all of these, bolstered by an epic soundtrack fit for the nostalgic viewer.
“Following the sound became a lot more interesting for me than talking about a club. House music exploded in SA, but why? How did it get here?
“That’s what I wanted to really work through,” explains Tisani.
Because of this mammoth task, the end result is not a scroll through and watch-atwork kind of documentary. It demands full attention from viewers. Using a complex weaving of characters from either side of apartheid’s racial divide, Rave and Resistance tells the story behind the soundtrack of the demise of the old days. Some years ago musician Spoek Mathambo referred to “the apartheid afterparty” in his documentary Future Sounds of Mzansi, but Rave and Resistance doesn’t share the same optimism. At times, despite the clear belief in the power of music and clubs to unite and change, the film is utterly pragmatic, refusing to shy away from the ugliness outside the four walls of Pretoria, Tembisa and Yeoville clubs. Using footage of AWB rallies and clashes between people and police, the film is true to its name throughout, gliding effortlessly between rave and resistance.
“The archive was really important here. It was hard to find music videos for some of these iconic songs, so the ability to use an archive of mostly personal footage made a huge difference. It made me think a lot about how the archive allows us to have and use our memories,” says Tisani.
But it’s not just the content that makes a
statement, it’s the filmmaking too. Staying true to a rough, grungy ’90s aesthetic, the film is curated to move between past and present. One of the driving interviews is from award-winning cultural journalist Charl Blignaut, whose wealth of personal and professional experience with the scene is invaluable. In the film, we also see a younger version of Blignaut — as a brighteyed, sharp-eared journalist digging for many of the same answers the documentary does. This and other interviews also tell a story about the dedication of these musicians and creatives to the upholding of the integrated club scene. This dedication made a serious impression on the documentary’s director.
“I learnt a lot from the interviewees. These were extremely creative, talented people who treated their creativity like a job — with dedication. I learnt that creativity over the long term is not commitment — it’s not about hype. So yes, it’s exciting to hear the response, but I’m just concerned now with continuing to make good work. I don’t think I need to peak at 33,” says Tisani.
Rave and Resistance has been received as a triumphant success by viewers, music lovers and critics alike. Made with honesty, creativity and two years of production, it is a celebration of the old and a lens into the new. Seriously, watch it. Come for the party, stay for the politics.
Rave and Resistance is available for free viewing on Youtube.