New York Dispatch. 6.

Didactic. Preachy. Dogmatic. Words I keep hearing when discussing (or reading about) Bamako, Abderrahamane Sissako's latest film, a political fiction that stages a mock trial between Africa and the IMF/World Bank. Yet to flippantly reduce the film in this manner is to ignore its passion, beauty and powerful sense of urgency. The film gives a voice to those directly affected by the unjust policies of these organizations - voices that speak, cry, and sing their lamentations - and they deserve to be heard. As if anticipating this reaction, one villager in the film, when asked to record his thoughts on the matter, responds with, "Don't waste your time, no one will hear it."

Set in a poor neighborhood of the Malian capital, Bamako is similar in style and tone to Sissako's wonderful La Vie sur Terre, itself a statement on colonialization. Both films brilliantly capture a steady rhythm of village life unaltered by outside events, be it the arrival of the new millennium, or by a trial being held right outside their doorstep.

Sissako provides no context for the trial - we have no idea why judges and barristers have appeared in this makeshift courtroom in a courtyard that connects several homes. Though some have been unwilling to buy into this conceit, it actually serves as a powerful device, bridging fact and fiction. As has been noted elsewhere, there is something very Brechtian about it all, particularly the way in which village drama unfolds around and, at times, directly through the trial - one relationship disintegrates while another begins, a man lies dying, and a gun goes missing.

The plaintiffs in the case come from all walks of life, including workers, writers and former public servants. Some provide the court with statistical and historical information, while others deliver passionate outpourings of indignation ("Poverty is not Africa's curse. On the contrary, Africa is a victim of its wealth!") In what is easily one of the year's most powerful and memorable cinematic moments, an elderly man delivers his testimony in song - untranslated, but with no question as to its sentiment.

While it's true that the arguments presented are familiar to anyone who has read their Chomsky or Catherine Caufield, it's a bit unfair to simply write it off as mere didacticism. African culture has a rich history of oral tradition, and its use here is entirely appropriate, especially if Sissako intends for the film to reach the African general public. (As Acquarello recently pointed out in a comment on Girish's blog, this approach is an endemic part of the aesthetic of African cinema.) While there may be nothing new to the arguments, it is a decades-old problem with no sign of resolution. Is it fair to criticize Sissako for not taking an allegorical or purely intellectual approach?

It would be all too easy, given the film's subject matter and the devastating results of the policies it condemns, to paint a very bleak portrait of Mali (one of the poorest nations on earth). Instead, we see a village with an incredible sense of harmony, community and resourcefulness, even if future prospects are questionable. (One man is studying Hebrew in anticipation of a coming Israeli embassy.) At the same time, the villagers acknowledge the futility of the trial and the unlikelihood of change, as evinced by the occasional requests to disconnect the speakers that are broadcasting the trial to the rest of the village. Even they don't want to hear it.

Putting aside the film's politics, we are still left with a work of tremendous beauty. Many of Bamako's strongest (and lasting) moments are the simplest - a child's squeaky shoes, a wedding that interrupts the trial, a judge buying sunglasses, and an old metallic fan - a simple object that will have greater meaning by the film's end. The televised Spaghetti Western that the villagers watch (Death in Timbuktu), which includes a multi-ethnic cast (featuring Danny Glover and directors Elia Suleiman and Jean-Henri Roger) seems at first little more than a diversion, but is in fact Sissako's effort at laying some of the blame on Africa itself. It's a metaphor that doesn't quite work, but an interesting scene nonetheless.

Bamako might not be a masterpiece (though it's close), but it is definitely one of the most important films of the year. Responsible for a fair share of arguments among fellow bloggers, it's one that simply must not be missed. For added fun, be sure to bring your favorite neocon buddy.

Posted by dwhudson at October 6, 2006 12:41 PM