Queen of Glory review – authentic comedy of a second-generation immigrant

Directed, written by, and starring Nana Mensah, Queen of Glory is a real one-woman show. Her protagonist Sarah is a PhD student and lecturer at Columbia University who returns to the Bronx where she grew up after her mother dies suddenly. Here she finds herself torn between following her career, with new prospects in Ohio (and a flaky romance with an uncommitted older professor), and re-affirming her roots as a Ghanaian-American by staying in New York. Much of the film is rooted in Mensah’s own life: the Christian bookstore her character inherits belongs to Mensah’s actual parents, and the lived-in texture of the film and its dialogue resonates throughout.

Mensah gracefully and humorously captures that experience of how being born a second-generation immigrant moulds and shapes one’s life. There’s that gentle sense of shame at not quite being up to speed on your parents’ cultural practices or language (an early scene of Sarah interacting with her aunts sees her looking painfully awkward). There’s the perpetual sense of confusion and adriftness about life in the host country, a constant insecurity (as evidenced by her uneasy romantic attachment). There’s also the pressure to enact all the traditions of the old country, whilst questioning whether one is a fake for doing so – a major subplot concerns Sarah’s estranged father Godwin (Oberon K. A. Adjepong) pressuring her to organise a traditional Ghanaian funeral, whilst doing precisely nothing to help.

The film makes the most of its low-budget origins, leaning on the charms of its supporting cast alongside Mensah’s considerable star talent – comfortable holding the camera’s gaze and exquisitely capturing Sarah’s rootlessness, her eyes often expressing a degree of lostness even as she gets herself involved in awkwardly humorous situations. Of that supporting cast, the most impressive is Pitt (Meeko Gattuso), an ex-con who is the Christian bookstore’s sole employee. He radiates warmth, gravitas, and authenticity, with a screen presence that is unhurried and open, the film consciously using his heavily-tattooed face to send up both Sarah’s and the audience’s class and racial assumptions. It’s that relationship which unexpectedly provides the heart of the film, the bookstore itself a pillar of the community, capturing the strange mix of sincerity and commercial kitsch that is so fundamental to Christianity in the United States.

It's a shame then, that it’s also the relationship with Pitt where the film ultimately cheats itself in the third act, in an ending that attempts to resolve far too much for its own good – a peculiar affliction frequently found in many American indies that you might be tempted to call “Sundancitis” (even if Queen of Glory did premiere at Tribeca). The ambiguity and complexity of Sarah’s decision in coming closer to her Ghanaian roots is lovingly-drawn, exemplified by her emotional outpouring during the traditional funeral. But it is undone by the decision to reduce Meeko into a generic ex-con-with-a-heart-of-gold, who imparts empathy and wisdom, reducing all that loving complexity to a Hallmark greeting card. It’s disappointing that an otherwise smart and genuine film cheapens itself so badly at the final hurdle – though at this point it’s worth remembering that the journey itself has been worthwhile.

Queen of Glory is released in UK cinemas on 26 August.