During the screening I attended at Cannes, the entire theatre was on edge, with several watery eyes by the end. There was a palpable sense of fear that the needle could drop at any moment amid the boys’ unfolding adventure. It was a teary viewing experience for me partly because of my penchant for nostalgia about Nigeria, and partly because I was probably the only Nigerian in that theatre on the French Riviera that morning, fully feeling the gravity of the moment. The screening was completely sold out, with a long line of people at the entrance hoping for last-minute entry to one of the most talked-about pictures of the festival.

Dìrísù has deservedly received praise for the arresting lead performance he brings to every frame he appears in. He taps into raw honesty in his portrayal of a man striving to live up to his responsibilities, while perhaps failing in his emotional obligations. Davies Jr also captures stirring character moments from Nigerian actors, Olarotimi Fakunle, Gregory Ojefua and Ụzọamaka Power, each of whom pours their entire heart into the brief but memorable scenes they share with the leads. In one particularly haunting scene that lingers long after, Ayo Lijadu plays a security guard who sings ominously to Fola.

My Father’s Shadow is not without its shortcomings. Its pacing becomes uneven in the final act and some of its female characters don’t escape familiar Christopher Nolan-esque tropes of spectral, undefined characterizations. I have wrestled with the ending; it is very sentimental and leaves several political ideas quite underdeveloped. The film’s transgressive and surrealist motifs, too, could have been pushed even further. Still, it is a thought-provoking watch, and the most impressive directorial debut I saw at Cannes. The film being awarded the Caméra d’Or Special Mention during the festival’s closing ceremony is well deserved.

I can probably never fully disentangle my view of My Father’s Shadow from the historic context in which I first watched it. I had been selected for the festival’s 3 Days in Cannes programme months before, never imagining that a Nigerian film would be part of the official selection. It took several leaps of faith to end up in that theatre that day, along with sacrifices that my hyper-rational mind couldn’t help but second-guess. Fola’s remark, that life is about trying not to sacrifice the wrong thing, rang particularly true. What a privilege it was to have made the right sacrifice to end up in Cannes that week, watching the film premiere on the world stage and seeing fellow cinephiles from around the world jostle for the chance to see it. To be swept up in its many breathtaking cinematographic moments. To witness its director, producers, cast and crew at the after-party, joyously celebrating the history they had just made.

My Father’s Shadow is a dreamy, atmospheric 93 minutes. The more I think about it, the more I feel that’s quite literally what the story is: a dream. The film is bookended by Remi saying he will see his father in his dreams. And considering its mysterious ending, eerie flashforwards and shots of a solemn mother figure, perhaps that’s the point. Did Fola ever actually come back home? What exactly was he always up to in Lagos? What happened in Bonny Camp? Why do those flashforward moments feel so final? Perhaps this is all a dream, an imagination of what that perfect day would have looked like for two boys who, unfortunately, didn’t get much time with their father. A story written by two men who also didn’t get much time with their father. I’m still mulling it over, and I love that I am. Because ultimately, the film makes you feel. It makes you remember. And it made me proud⎈