A blog formerly known as Bookishness / By Charles Matthews

"Dazzled by so many and such marvelous inventions, the people of Macondo ... became indignant over the living images that the prosperous merchant Bruno Crespi projected in the theater with the lion-head ticket windows, for a character who had died and was buried in one film and for whose misfortune tears had been shed would reappear alive and transformed into an Arab in the next one. The audience, who had paid two cents apiece to share the difficulties of the actors, would not tolerate that outlandish fraud and they broke up the seats. The mayor, at the urging of Bruno Crespi, explained in a proclamation that the cinema was a machine of illusions that did not merit the emotional outbursts of the audience. With that discouraging explanation many ... decided not to return to the movies, considering that they already had too many troubles of their own to weep over the acted-out misfortunes of imaginary beings."
--Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

Thursday, September 26, 2024

Our Father, the Devil (Ellie Foumbi, 2021)

Babetida Sadjo in Our Father, the Devil

Cast: Babetida Sadjo, Souléyman Sy Savané, Jennifer Tchiakpe, Franck Saurel, Martine Amisse, Maëlle Genet, Hiba el Aflahi. Screenplay: Ellie Foumbi. Cinematography: Tinx Chan. Production design: Philippe Lacomblez. Film editing: Roy Clovis. Music: Gavin Brivik. 

Ellie Foumbi's debut feature, Our Father, the Devil, is a thriller in which all the violent action occurs off-camera. When Marie (Babetida Sadjo) recognizes the new priest, Father Patrick (Souléyman Sy Savané), at the upscale French retirement home where she's the chef, she faints. She thinks he's the man she knew back in Guinea as Sogo, the warlord who raped her and forced her into his cadre of child soldiers. So one night when he comes to her kitchen after hours to ask for a snack, she knocks him out with a cooking utensil, hauls him into her car, and imprisons him in an isolated cabin. When he comes to, he denies that he was the man she once knew until she tortures the truth out of him. It's the setup for a moral fable that Foumbi tells quite well, and the absence of on-screen violence only heightens the tension and reinforces the film's treatment of the ethics of revenge. When Marie is torturing Father Patrick we see instead shots of her chopping vegetables and pounding a cutlet, which sounds comic in description but is really quite effective in the tense atmosphere Foumbi creates. Unfortunately, the tropes of thriller movies sometimes intrude. The scene when Marie and the hot bartender (Franck Saurel) she's been seeing consummate their relationship is gratuitous, and the sequence in which the roles of captive and captor switch back and forth is awkwardly handled. But it's superbly acted, especially by Sadjo and Sy Savané, and gives great promise of Foumbi's future as a director.    

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