Thanks to the World Cinema Foundation, Djibril Diop Mambéty’s 1973 feature was restored in 2008 and later included in the first edition of Martin Scorsese’s World Cinema Project released by the Criterion Collection in 2013. Prior to this restoration it had previously been released by Kino On Video in 2005. I honestly couldn’t find much information on any possible ‘theatrical activity’ for the film. I’ll assume that apart from the usual suspects of film festivals and special one-off showings, it’s never been shown in US theaters. Despite the best intentions of Criterion, Scorsese, and others this is still a Senegalese film from the early 1970s and thus it’s not a particularly easy DVD to find. Any copies that one can find online won’t come cheap. I did run across one website that was selling a copy of the Kino On Video release for $40, and given how rare this particular edition is, that’s not a bad price. Criterion are still selling the Blue-Ray/DVD combo box set of the World Cinema Project for $100 on their website, and when you consider that it would include this film and 5 others, it’s not a bad deal. Granted cheaper options may be found on sites like Amazon, plus one can also rent it out from Facets. Criterion will also allow you to stream the film online at their website, with access costing at the very least $11/month.
But if you’ve read any of my previous entries by now, you’ll know what my first option will be; libraries. For the Criterion release there was only 1 public library within a 40 mile radius of where I live that held a copy, according to worldcat.org. That library was in downtown Chicago. Let me tell you about downtown Chicago, between taking the train or god forbid paying to park your car, travelling there is not a cheap option. Travelling anywhere else would have been too far, so I settled on utilizing Criterion’s 14 day free trial in order to stream the film online. Who knows how many of these free trials I’m going to need to use.
I’m not quite sure where to start with this one. Perhaps it’s best to state upfront that for me, this film was a strange one. Furthermore I never felt as if the film was trying to be strange. I hold the notion that it was rather the distinct distance culturally between me and the region from which it arose that lead to my perception of it being esoteric. In the back of my mind I always knew that this kind of thing was possible when embarking on this project, and yet it’s still kind of jarring when it actually happens. Not that I’m complaining, mind you. There’s a part of me that actually enjoys the awkward confusion and madness of seeing diverse cultures presented in a way that does nothing to cater to my particular sensibilities. It reminds me of how vast, complex and varied the collective human experience can be. And let’s be honest, where’s the fun in only watching films that one can understand? If you never experience this sensation when watching global cinema, then I would have to question your curiosity as a cinephile.
The strangeness of the film though may not have solely been a consequence of its country of origin. It was also a product of the 1970s, and specifically of a particular cinematic philosophy that has more than likely gone out of style in the half-century since its production. There were a few films from this era that I thought about while watching Touki Bouki, and the one seemed to persist more than any other after viewing this was Walkabout. Both films strike me as more meticulously paced, lyrical, meditative works that seemed as interested in capturing the true essence of a particular place as they were in chronicling the lives of the people who live there.
The overall cinematography of Touki Bouki though was much better. One of the more indelible aspects of the film was the creative and thematically rich intercutting of the shots. For instance near the end of the film one encountered a sequence where shots of the main character Mory running to avoid the law were intercut with shots of a cow tied up in a slaughterhouse. Often times there was a playfulness in the use of this technique and a certain perverse joy in its attempts to lead the viewer astray. Earlier in the film one sees Mory grab the rope off of his motorcycle while the camera intercut this act with shots showing a herd of cattle. The natural, logical connection that developed in the proximity of these images though was dismantled when we see Mory harnessing his motorcycle instead. There was certainly a modest intrigue in these types of arrangements, which conditioned me towards an openness where things weren’t always going to appear as they seemed.
An earlier sequence in the film also exemplified this notion where Mory got bullied by a gang, which was intercut with a goat being beheaded by rural villagers, with the latter suggesting a significant dramatic gravitas to the former. Neither of these scenes though ultimately offered the brutality that the intercutting would suggest. Mory survived his time as a captive and the goat killing was more gruesome than violent, done merely for subsistence than for any other reason. The two French cruise ship passengers offered another interesting segment. This sequence was cut to give the impression that a discussion was taking place, when the greater reality might have been that it was two separate independently performed soliloquies that show the prejudiced views of haute Europeans. Generally I enjoyed the film’s editing and arrangement of shots. This film could serve as a master class in shot construction and sequencing.
Even the standard transitional cuts were executed with a certain grace and proficiency. Early in the film a shot of a young kid slowly riding a bull, quickly shifted to a rather exhilarating shot of a motorcycle being ridden past a row of derelict shacks Not only was the contrast in the speed of the motion notable, but the motorcycle itself was a bit of a curiosity. Its existence was a consequence of industrial progress, and yet it was adorned with a cow-skull in a symbolic nod to the rider’s past. The notion of a culture caught at the intersection of 20th century modernity and its tribal past was a constant motif throughout the film. Early in the film a vertical pan shot would show skyscrapers looming over the improvised hovel where Anta wrote in a tattered notebook. As the film progressed it seemed more willing to show a more urban, socially developed side to its locale. One of the more symbolic scenes in the film was the one where the postman climbed up out of the rustic village to a busy, well paved thoroughfare with the most striking element being that fact that when he reached the top, the reverse shot showed no evidence of the world from which he ascended from. There was a decent amount of thought-provoking artistic significance to a lot of the film’s scenes, which certainly worked to it’s favor. Some of film’s commentary though was seemingly made in regards to the relationship that Senegal has with France, which I’ll admit I was largely out of the loop on. For uninitiated foreign viewers some of the content was so specific in its references that it acted as a barrier to further engagement with the film. This however was only a subjective deficiency that others will not necessarily experience. I recognize that this film wasn’t intended for 21st century Americans, so it would serve no purpose for me to criticize this aspect harshly. The film though still contained broader thematic strokes that were more approachable for global audiences, like the corruption of economic modernity. When the two protagonists shed their peasantry rags for the opulent garb of first world wealth, they do so as illegitimate scoundrels.
The cinematography was also outstanding in its perspectives and framing. One of my favorite shots was the one of the traffic cop, where the yellow lines of the crosswalk filled up the frame in a peculiar trapezoid like fashion. Images like this gave the film some modest charm. Beyond that it was incredibly focused on showing the various facets of life in Senegal, almost to the point where I thought of the country itself as the star of the picture. This was an approach that may have been executed at the expense of its actors.
The acting was mediocre at best and rarely got a chance to shine in this film. Consider the scene where Mory joined Charlie in the paddle boat. Once Mory entered the boat, the film shifted to its background music reducing each character into mere background scenery. Magaye Niang who played the role of Mory, showed some decent animation in his discussion with Charlie, but the lack of any audible dialogue completely negated its impact. Given the cinematographic approach, the performers had to struggle to inject some charm into the film. Myriam Niang managed this prior to the paddle boat scene, when she joyfully showed her contempt at Charlie by sticking her tongue out at him. I enjoyed the charisma that she conveyed in this act, but for both leads such moments were too few and far in-between. Strangely I regarded one of the supporting actresses, Aminata Fall in the role of Aunt Oumi, as the most arresting of all the film’s performers. Her eccentric, yet rhythmic dancing while wielding a knife was more engaging than disturbing, and there was much to like with the vibrant, almost manic energy that she brought to the role. I honestly wished the film had made more use of her talent. Between Fall’s performance, the strange shaking of the cow-skull when Mory was being bullied, and Myriam’s awkward calisthenics while the couple were on the beach, the acting managed to be hypnotic and oddly mesmerizing at times, even though this ultimately was not an actors’ film.
The film also doesn’t offer much in regards to a narrative. It’s modest and jejune plot of two people who aim to leave the country offered enough to provide some cohesion and forward progression to the imagery. But even then it’s inclusion in the film seemed rather perfunctory. If you’re looking for a film built around a detailed, intricately woven narrative and long drawn out takes, structured around the performance of its actors, than Touki Bouki is not the film you’re looking for. And sadly this may offer an opening for its critics to attack.
If you approach cinema from the mindset that it represents a derivative artistic form to literary or theatrical works, than Touki Bouki will not appeal to you. As a theatrical experience once could interpret it as being awful. But ultimately Touki Bouki is not a play, it’s a film. Like many others from its contemporary era, it suggests that films are more than just an elaborate, visual rendering of staged theater. It showed great talent and artistry in the disciplines that have allowed cinema to transcend the theatrical realm. As a cinematic experience it works.