Film has often provided a unique canvas for creatives to explore culture. Dramatic fare frequently takes center stage; however, occasionally, a rewarding, cathartic experience is had when the central theme is death, such is the dark comedy behind Shula’s (Susan Chardy) journey in Rungano Nyoni’s On Becoming a Guinea Fowl.

Shula is not the decedent, though her uncle, Fred, is. For the extended Zambian family of aunties and uncles, Shula finds her uncle’s cadaver lying squarely on a deserted road in the middle of the night. Nyoni does not indulge Shula in the familial politics; she must only endure the fallout of her uncle’s passing. Chardy offers a graceful performance, often with a stiff upper lip as her family descends for the funeral, lasting a weekend, and the demands placed upon her by custom and tradition.

As dark as On Becoming a Guinea Fowl is (most of the film was shot at night), an allusion to the journey that Shula must face as a result of her Fred’s death, Shula is a beacon of light as she obediently greets her mom at the airport, anxiously avoids her cousin Nsansa (Elizabeth Chisela) only to become close again, assists another cousin in a stupor a bit later preparing the chicken in a ghostly manner. These are but a few of the darkly comedic situations that Nyoni concocts for her story.

Nyoni wants the audience to laugh as much as appreciate the revelations about Uncle Fred amongst the gossiping aunties, which only strengthens Chardy’s debut performance. Nyoni’s script balances the foreboding sense with Shula’s fierce independence – Shula isn’t shunning the family traditions as much she is avoiding the trappings of the funeral, and her father (Henry B. J. Phiri), who we first meet on a cell phone conversation with Shula, demanding that she cover his rent, and then once informed of his brother’s passing, asks her to send money for a cab.

On Becoming a Guinea Fowl is beautifully bookended, first with a British education program in the form of a flashback to Shula’s childhood; one gets the foreboding sense that not everything with this extended family is as it seems, later confirmed by a cousin to other family members. On Becoming a Guinea Fowl says as much visually as it does within its silences.

Nyoni creates a sizeable gulf between father and daughter that when Shula finally catches up with him away from the proceedings, Nyoni and cinematographer David Gallego shoot the sequence from a distance, even though the two subjects are in front of each other. The distance serves as a reminder that the men know exactly what happened, especially between father and daughter, how easily it is to place blame, and how poetically the women rebuke the blame without shoving it back in the opposite direction.

Throughout the film, the family experiences the traditions of the tribe, which imbue themselves on the viewer. The haunted feeling the women portray is as much visually oriented as it is through voiceover narration, courtesy of Shula.

On Becoming a Guinea Fowl is ultimately dramatic, with a strong human-interest point of view. Susan Chardy’s performance is absolutely on point. The story takes a bit to warm up as, among the family coming together for the funeral, deeply traumatic events are recalled. Despite the warm send-offs Uncle Fred receives, when Shula finally voices her courage, the film’s symbolic nature becomes readily apparent. Rungano Nyoni’s story and direction merit attention for its intrinsic storytelling and as a reminder that we can be better, stronger versions of ourselves when the situation warrants it.