Akilla's Escape

It’s an uneven puzzle: eye-catching but not entirely convincing when put together.

The editing and cinematography are heavily stylised, which can make the film feel like a flighty distended music video at times, but Williams and Mpumlwana’s alert, compelling performances keep things grounded in grit.

It’s all not quite enough to get Officer’s film to live up to its pretensions, which are also present in the overlong opening credits discoursing on Jamaican history and corruption; themes hinted at later but which never entirely bloom.

Akilla's Escape is undone by its own lack of faith in the viewer, opting to explicitly tell rather than rely on its fine actors to show us who their characters are.

Akilla's Escape recasts the monolithic narrative of gang involvement as one that rejects a trope of Black peril in order to tell a multi-dimensional story of resilience...

Although the constant shifts between contemporary Toronto and '90s New York can at times cause confusion, the film remains firmly rooted in Williams' quietly powerful, laser-focused performance.

Williams is a strong presence, but the story’s elements — past and present — blur together in a monotonous whole.

The themes explored lack nuance, the storytelling doesn't craft an engaging pace, and the performances are near-universally bland.

The final moments are not quite convincing, denoting fragilities in the execution, but the director's formidably hopeful message sticks in our minds.

What at first appears to be mere flashbacks to Akilla's formative years gradual takes on the heft and structure of a separate storyline, one that both informs but also reflects the present-day plot.