’Anam’s Wake’: A mystery, death, redemption and finding purpose in grief

Spider-Man: Brand New Day is dominating the global box office right now, but I want us to take a detour and focus on Anam’s Wake.

The premiere happened this last weekend, Prestige cinemas, ahead of its wide release this week, 3rd to 8th August 2026, at a reasonably affordable ticket price.

So in the lobby, as we were networking and waiting to go in for the screening, I kept asking any attendee I had the opportunity to speak to two questions: why did you buy a ticket for this, and how did you hear about it? The reason being, the premiere and the opening weekend had sold out.

Most people I asked said they’d found it through social media, and most were regular consumers of Kenyan cinema who came out specifically because the trailer promised something different.

So an aggressive marketing push, I don’t know whether it was my algorithm, but this film has been all over my feed, and a unique concept might have played a role when it came to the reception of the film. But let’s put all that away, the most important question here is: does the final product deliver?

Anam’s Wake

Anam’s Wake is written and directed by Likarion Wainaina, who also produces alongside Wanjiru Njoroge, with cinematography by Enos Olik. Marima Wanjiru leads as Anam, opposite Samson Omondi as a character you will need to discover for yourself, Ruth Apondi as Aunt Kavata, Peter Kawa as Mason Ebale, and Vanessa Okeyo as Amani Ebale.

The ensemble also includes Maureen Muthoni as Stella, Pras Jadi as Kwame Ebale, Gathoni Mutua as Zuri Ebale, and Brenda Ngeso as Nyawira.

The plot follows Anam, a professional mourner trained to summon Death and negotiate the passage of souls, who has never dealt with her own grief 16 years after her mother’s death.

Her first solo ritual takes place at a wealthy family’s estate, but things become complicated when Death arrives early, dragging buried family secrets and Anam’s own history into the light, or darkness, depending on how you look at it.

The performances anchor the film, and I don’t know why. Still, I recall thinking of the impact of the Kenya Theatre scene, especially with Wanjiru and the mysterious character played by Samson.

It’s a demanding, exposition-heavy role that demands constant physical and emotional labour across the acts, paired with Ruth Apondi, whose grounded, unforced delivery in the first act gives the film its sense of realism, giving her character a sense of place and belonging. I must say the performances are great throughout, but Ruth Apondi feels the most natural in her role, which I must admit was fantastic casting.

Character motivations are clear, meaning for the most part some characters will be easy to follow.

A mystery

Ben Tekee’s role is unnerving, challenging, and unconventional, and most Kenyans will find his scenes uncomfortable, even horrific, depending on your beliefs. Peter Kawa shapes the momentum of the second act. Pras Jadi, newer to the craft, is most compelling when silent; his stillness carries weight that his line delivery occasionally undercuts.

And Samson Omondi is a scene-stealer, probably the character audiences will remember most. His delivery and cadence are spot on, and his physique allows him to aura farm (intentionally striking poses, or behaving stoically to boost one’s perceived cool factor) and command the screen during his entrance, which is elevated by the costume designer.

The costumes, individual pieces like jewellery, might look unassuming and familiar on their own, but it’s in how everything comes together, the jewellery, body art, the majestic outfits and casting choices, that creates something distinctly coherent and African rather than generic.

A lot of thought went into the costumes, which help elevate the story visually, and for the most part, a lot of the characters look cool, sometimes unsettling, one figure in particular.

The cultural context, language choice, and overall art direction give the film a Kenyan identity, though I’m not in a position to vouch for the accuracy of every accent, as I’m from a different tribe, but the subtitles carried me through.

Meeting the Runda family kicks off a mystery that had been slowly set up in the first act, and the suspense, there is symbolism and set ups that eventually pay off, I love something they do with water.

Coming from a culture with a particular attitude toward death and the dead, I found the film’s disturbing details thoughtfully handled rather than gratuitous, still horrifying. I also appreciated the film’s willingness to sit with its philosophical questions: what death means, what a negotiator’s job actually costs, and what this small community of soul-guides believes.

The cinematography is superb for the most part.

My favourite sequence is an early scene between Anam and her Stella inside the house; the blocking and staging are remarkable, with the camera tracking the friend’s movement in and out of frame in a way that feels Spielberg-inspired. The film also has a distinct visual identity and a colour grade that embraces natural African skin tones, with frames that occasionally mirror a character’s internal state rather than simply observing it.

The themes are heavy but I appreciate that there was also a place for humour in the script.

Gripes

This is a dense mythology that could have used an illustrated or short animated prologue, something like the silhouette sequences that close the film 300 but at the opening, to establish the rules, the women, the history, and, crucially, what grief actually means within this story’s logic.

As it stands, Anam simply reads as numb, and the line between suppressed feeling and defined grief is blurred.

Pacing in the third act was a bigger issue for me. The first two acts move confidently, but once the film pivots to the apprenticeship, it stalls, even when motivations are clear, becoming more tangled and exposition-heavy.

That act survives on first-viewing novelty alone. I thought the film should have ended with the family mystery as a cliffhanger of Anam learning the negotiator’s true goal. Instead, by pushing further, it breaks the momentum, and while the focus shifts back to Anam, what you end up with is a convoluted plot that, rather than elevating the character, drowns the act in exposition and obliterates any sense of agency. That third act makes the film feel longer than it is.

There’s also an occasional lack of visual ambition. One or two frames (in the Runda house) look like they were shot by a videographer rather than a cinematographer.

And through the third act, I could tell there was no one in the pre-production room asking, “How can we make this scene cool?” A two-finger touch meant to carry enormous weight gets no sonic or visual emphasis; a small visual effect to signal its significance would have gone a long way or a just a shake of the camera.

A later philosophical exchange in the third act falls flat, visually, simply because the filmmakers didn’t push themselves creatively.

Some moments could have benefited from the use of a green screen and basic visual effects to place the two characters in a surreal environment, think The Matrix’s Neo and Morpheus, in a completely white space with just two chairs.

Basically, what I’m trying to say is that the story is ambitious, and so is the direction and art direction, but it still plays safe, creatively capped, staying within the borders of what we know. I acknowledge something they do with Peter Kawa and the guts to extend that scene with what they had at their disposal.

Still a good watch

But even with those issues, Anam’s Wake is still an awesome experience, primarily because it benefits from a very strong first and second act. It’s unsettling, challenging how we think about and look at the passage to death, grief, and purpose. Most Kenyan audiences will connect with, or be terrified by, what it does with our cultural taboos, and despite its shaky final act, there’s plenty here worth enjoying.

If you love Kenyan film, you’ll be eating well this month.

Two more Kenyan movies doing something different are premering this week. Memory of Princess Mumbi will have a homecoming premiere on 7th August 2026 Prestige Cinemas.

And Tides, a music-driven Kenyan film, premieres on the 8th of August 2026 Two rivers Mall . Like Anam’s Wake, these two also try to do something different.

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