After the World Cup :: A fictional, but chilling, account

Two weeks after the World Cup, and the country is back to looking the other way from all those little annoyances that make our toes curl.  Now that all the colourful Spaniards, raunchy Brazilians and tipsy British kids are gone, we have been reminded of all those stinky issues from which we were so over-indulgently distracted, and  have been stripped of all excuses for daily merry-making.

Failures in service delivery, industrial action, crime and (should I say it, shouldn’t I say it?) xenophobia are back to their usual threatening selves.

But despite the post-World Cup bathos and signs of imminent political and social implosion, things seem to be holding on by some very delicate threads.

Imagine, if you can, a society where these little threads snap after government starts ‘slipping up’ a little more than usual.

In an unfortunate series of events, riots begin when locals express agitation at  their plights of poverty and service delivery having been ignored while billions were invested  in infrastructure to serve foreign visitors.

Within weeks, South Africa faces political collapse, and within years, it is forced to turn into a military state.

This daunting possibility is examined by film-maker Adam Heyns in the short film ‘After the World Cup’. This second year Bachelor of Arts student from Tuks has created a glimpse into this avoidable future in an elegantly directed short film.

The film looks at some very real scenarios in South African culture, including a revisiting of nightmares of the past and predicted imaginings for the future.

It rolls out in an elegantly executed mockumentary style, filmed on the handy cam of a journalist who is caught up in the emotions and tragedy that precede and overtake the World Cup.

It plays on one of South African’s deepest fears and most absurd of urban legends. Though it is not Madiba’s death that ignites nationwide chaos, but rather a case of misinformation, the consequences of such a possibility prove dire in this plot.

It also examines the all too familiar mockery of the doom-sayers buying cans of sweet corn and bully beef in preparation of a future spent in the mountains after the inevitable disruption of power and government.

Complete with media blackouts, states of emergency, the disappearance of electricity and municipal services,  and a good humoured glance at white guilt, this fictional projection of the future hits quite close to home.

The film is currently being screened at the University of Pretoria’s Krekvars festival. And hopefully it won’t be the last time we see it doing the public viewing rounds.