The days of being lured into the cinema simply by a film poster are gone. However, one must tip the hat to Igbo-Australian filmmaker Kalu Oju for tapping Deadly Prey studios, home of the infamous Ghanian movie art, for the promotional artwork for his debut Pasa Faho. It’s a thing of beauty. Happily, the film itself is rather lovely too. A narratively simple, but wise and heartfelt tale of a Nigerian shoe salesman in the Melbourne suburbs, his son, and their place in the wider immigrant community, what it lacks in dramatic sweep it more than makes up for in authentic texture.

Azubuike (comedian Okey Bakassi) has lived in Melbourne for many years, running a shoe shop which is now in financial difficulty. This coincides with his teenage son Obinna (Tyson Palmer) coming to live with him, which he’s delighted about, but which doesn’t help with the red letter bills. As the pair reconnect, Azubuike tries to pass on his values to his son, while trying to save his store.

Pasa Faho‘s central father and son dynamic is rather ingenious, embodying the rich thematic depth underneath the film’s gentle surface. The pair aren’t at all estranged, but Obinna has previously lived with his Australian mother so there is inevitably an element of culture shock. The pair rub along pretty well, but there is a disconnect that the pair struggle to correct. It’s also exacerbated by the intense financial pressure Azubuike finds himself under. Through the pair, Oji unobtrusively examines immmigrant communites, how they maintain their heritage and religious practice, masculinity, and differing cultural values. It’s done with a very specific focus, but will be recognisable to a far wider audience than just the Igbo diaspora.

With its subject matter, Pasa Faho should be a far heavier watch than it is. It’s not exactly breezy, but Oju prefers to steep the audience in the family’s environment so we can understand and empathise with Azubuike and Obinna’s situation simply by being in the midst of their daily lives. It helps that the secondary characters feel like organic colour on Oju’s palette, a long-standing and closely-knit community, and not merely avatars for narrative drive. There is real warmth and joy in the scenes that take place in backyards, kitchens, and churches. Perhaps this adds to the film’s light touch; whatever happens, there is a support network for the family.

It also looks stunning. Cinematographer Gabriel Francis is never hampered by the quotidian, mundane locations. Instead, his golden-hued lens finds respect and even nobility in the little shops, busy kitchens, and modest places of worship. It basks in its environs, a perfect fit with Oju’s loose, relaxed style. It’s really something how all the creative choices make Pasa Faho feel tonally similar to something like Jim Jarmusch‘s serene Paterson while asking so many questions about its characters’ place in the world – questions that it never credits itself with being able to answer.

At 86 minutes, it’s a film that could have actually benefited from being less concise. With such a narratively lean film perhaps Oju was wary of unnecessary bloat – too many scenes that add nothing but flavour – but what flavour. We could have done with more exploration of some of the other characters as they orbit around Azubuike and Obinna. For example, Obinna forms a sweet friendship with a local girl he meets at church, but that is jettisoned. At the same time it makes sense in the context of the film that Azubuike’s confrontational final scene with long-time employee Yrsa is left unresolved, but it’s a source of pain – and shame – for him, that adds to the tang of a bittersweet ending.

Kalu Oji has obviously drawn heavily on his own experiences in Pasa Faho. Every moment rings true, from the rich detail of the people and places of the community, to the specificity of Azubuike’s relationship with his son, and the universal problem of his financial situation. It’s a beautiful, patient, and vibrant little gem of the kind that always seems do well in the Audience Award at Glasgow Film Festival. It wouldn’t be a surprise if it chimed similarly with attendees this year.

Screening on Thu 5 & Fri 6 Mar 2026 as part of Glasgow Film Festival