Ali Le Roi’s ‘The Obituary of Tunde Johnson’ has good intentions – it tells a story of a gay American-Nigerian teen who gets killed by police – but somewhere gets lost in the translation. Or in the way the story is told. It uses the ‘Groundhog Day’ format and the narrator here recounts day after day the events or what happens to Tunde. But somehow, in the end, teh film becomes z message about the young man’s closeted white boyfriend, and you say what the hell (I actually did not mind as much because the boif was cute) Surely a lot of people will say, ‘that’s now what I signed for,’ and they wouldn’t be wrong.