Oliver Schmitz’s Mapantsula is often called South Africa’s first anti-apartheid feature film made from inside the system — shot in the late 1980s with the authorities breathing down its neck. That alone makes it more than a film; it’s a political artefact, a piece of history smuggled onto the screen.
At its centre is Panic, a petty thief forever hustling, spinning lies, and chasing quick money while dodging the cops. Revolution couldn’t be further from his mind, until arrest and interrogation strip away the swagger and leave him staring down choices bigger than himself.
Schmitz grounds it in gritty detail — shebeens, township bars buzzing with life, cramped flats bursting at the seams, raids smashing doors off their hinges. But the pulse is political: defiance surfacing in the cracks of daily survival. Mapantsula works as a street drama, but its real charge comes from showing how even a hustler backed into a corner can find himself swept into a nation’s fight.