“Every city has a kitchen.” speaks of the treatment of a cities remnant. Their raw potential is gathered, chopped, stirred, and simmered. Communities—like ingredients—are mixed into the machinery of the city, bringing flavor, labor, and life to its growth.

Yet as the feast is plated for a chosen few, those who stirred the pot are left behind—boxed out by privatization, burnt by policy, and pushed to the back of the house by design.

Daniel Kaluuya and Kibwe Tavares’ 2023 directorial debut of The Kitchen joins the prophetic dialogue of dystopian films or — one might say Afro-surrealist films — offering a chilling vision of the future of urban life. Brutal and unflinching, the film serves as a cinematic prophecy, revealing the insidious grip of capitalist structures and the widening chasm between the working class and the 1%. Depicting a life’s meditation on survival — not simply as instinct, but as a forced mode of existence under systemic oppression ;relationships are strained, identities are fractured, and community becomes both shield and burden under the capitalist gaze.

Narrative

In keeping with the traditions of dystopian cinema, The Kitchen wields silence as power. The dialogue, sparse and measured, unfolds with an eerie stillness — as if every word carries the weight of mourning, not only literal with the grief of Benji’s mother’s passing, or the solemnity that haunts the memorial centre where Izi works, but also the abstract losses: of home, of future, the young stripped of access to education, employment, opportunity and more. We are drawn into their quiet desperation as the characters' inner worlds emerge subtly, sketching emotional arcs that resonate beyond what is spoken . Izi silence reminds us of Bashy’s song “when black boys loose their smile” a life drained of every ounce of joy, diminished to working to survive; community and companion comes at an expense. It’s only when Izi’s connection with Benji deepens, he finds his smile again.

Music Composition

As the story unfolds, the music becomes a witness. It charts the shifting ground beneath the feet of the African and Caribbean diaspora , centralising sounds from the afro continent , beautifully incorporating the past, present and future ; AK47, high-life artist like Felt Kuti, Ghanaian hip life Ofori Amponsah, to Amapiano to reggae.

The Kitchen revolving around the voice of Lord Kitchener the community announcer, DJ, speaks to anchor music provides the global majority.

What begins in harmony bends toward dissonance. Radio signals fade. Kitchener is silenced. His arrest disrupts the consistency of sound and the communities proximity to chaos increases. When the radio stops the musical world becomes unfamiliar as the government creeps in , as the young take a stand to protect their livelihood and the music hums—just beneath the surface. The music’s remains a map, a mirror, a weapon; wielding its power to orient community, preserve heritage and freedom in the midst of oppression.

Production Design

Set in the heart of a decaying estate, Nathan Parker’s production design is political, poetic, and precise. He crafts an overcrowded, gritty yet cultured community punctuated by traces of technology—not for comfort, but control as instruments of surveillance, dominance, and imposed progress.

A sharp contrast to *Buena Vida*, where sleek, high-tech luxury apartments embody a life built on access and privilege; surveillance for wealthy is protection a stark contrast to the citizens in the Kitchen.

Nathan Parker, Production Designer. Image Source : Dezeen.

Despite a limited budget, Parker and his team create a world that holds its own alongside major dystopian films like “I Am Legend” and “The Hunger Games”—with similarly oppressive architecture and the use of colour grey as the primary colour.

Yet within this stark landscape, colour emerges as resistance. Parker uses colour as cultural language—blending the industrial tones of Bauhaus brutalism with the Diaspora Coastal Colour Theory coined by Shane V. Charles. Bold reds and vibrant patterned carpets meet soft blues, pinks, and yellow. The colour theory speak of a people worn down by their environment, yet still clinging to joy, to identity, too vibrancy. Parker’s work provides the icing to where council eleven finds its the intersection …

The Intersection : Art , Urban design & Policy

At its core, The Kitchen is a case study in resistance—where art, urban design, and policy intertwine to expose the quiet brutality of structural violence that shapes marginalised lives. Its boldness lies not in imagining a utopia, but in refusing to—intentionally so. The film reminds us that urban planning is never neutral; it can isolate or integrate, empower or erase. Too often, policy writes over communities, leaving residents to rewrite their futures with fading resources. If governments are to be just, too “love out loud” (Cornel West) , then people-centred design must become the blueprint—one that nurtures economic, social, and ecological sustainability over profit-driven displacement.

And yet, amid the ruins of imposed independence, we find a solace: that survival is forged in interdependence, and even when systems falter, community endures.

The Kitchen : A Prophetic Dialogue

La Sapeur, Le Sape, Sapologist: dandies of the Republic of Congo