Village Keeper, Karen Chapman’s powerful debut feature, is the story of a woman navigating the pressures placed upon her by her various identities. As a mother, she must be strong for her children. As a daughter, she’s meant to be respectful. As a caregiver, she must be competent and above suspicion. And, as a widow, she must subsume her grief and take on each day as it comes.

Beverly-Jean (Olunike Adeliyi, Akilla’s Escape) is haunted by parts of her past, but, equally, she has closed off parts of her character that previously gave her joy. Having lost both her husband and her housing, she, along with her two children Tamika (Zahra Bentham) and Tristin (Micah Mensah-Jatoe), cram into the apartment building of her mother (Maxine Simpson). While Grandma blasts reggae beats from her turntable that can be heard in the hallways, Jean has closed herself from listening to music. Her son Tristan makes his own mixes, while daughter Tamika earns spare cash doing hairdos, hinting at delays to her education because of the family’s financial struggles.

We see Jean transit back and forth from her apartment to a more lavish neighborhood, tasked with caring for an elderly man who is kind but concerned about some missing cash. Along her travels, she passes a Dim Sum restaurant, where flashbacks to a moment suddenly take over, resulting in a series of scattershot hints of past traumas that continue to haunt her. These shifts in time and place are peppered throughout the film, but, generally, the arc of Jean’s recognizing that she needs to make a change takes a far more linear path. When blood appears in an elevator or on the street, she is quick to bring her bucket, rubber gloves, and cleaning solution, doing in her small way her calling to make things just a tiny bit more livable. When she admonishes a group of kids for littering, they shame her for wearing shabby, tattered shoes.

‘Village Keeper’ Tells a Strong Tale of Family

As Jean’s story unfolds, we learn about the complex nature of what she’s lost, and the various ways in which the past can often be made to seem all that more rosy than what was actually lived through. Ghosts don’t argue back, and negative memories fade as more nostalgic elements are emphasized. As Jean confronts the truth of her past, and her children cope with their own emotional challenges, the film finds a way for these individuals to find themselves in a better space, making a home out of what is meant to be temporary and making sense of the otherwise nonsensical. Through conversation, therapy, drawing, and simply being, this family is strengthened not by ignoring what has come to be, but by taking it in all of its various aspects, both light and dark. They gain strength thanks to both the richness and the revulsions of these experiences.

Chapman elicits strong performances from much of her ensemble, and the dance between interior and exterior life is portrayed well. This is a community artistically underserved, and Chapman’s gift is to present the circumstances without succumbing to simplistic clichés. There are some moments that don’t work – it’s one thing to throw old shoes out the window; it’s another to do so with something far more economically valuable, even as the metaphor is redolent. Still, these may be overcompensations of a new filmmaker, tics that can easily be ironed out as her art is developed.

In the end, Chapman’s film serves as a portrait of a family rendered in three dimensions, capturing both the strength and human frailties of these individuals in a detailed fashion. Village Keeper makes for a fine debut, bringing Jean’s claustrophobic pressures to life on a grander canvas, and inviting us in to share not simply her sorrows, but also her joys.

Village Keeper had its World Premiere at the 2024 Toronto International Film Festival.