Ousmane Sembène 1975 Senegal
Starring: Thierno Leye, Seune Samb, Miriam Niang, Younouss Seye, Moustapha Touré
If you're looking for cinematic satire West Africa may not be the first stop on your journey but surprisingly it's the order of the day in Xala, stalwart director Ousmane Sembène's tale of political corruption in Senegal adapted from his own novel, and it's savage. Even as the country becomes independent from its French colonial leaders in the opening scenes and ousts the white government from their offices complete with their boots, hats and decorative busts it isn't shown to be much of a change for the better. In fact far from it as within minutes one of the white men has returned with a briefcase full of money for each member of the new board of directors and remains as an advisor throughout the film. What's more they still all speak French instead of the country's standard Wolof and their 'African socialism', characterised as "socialism with a human face", is noticeably rotten, any power it held essentially nullified by the presence of crates of Coca Cola and the main character's ardent embrace of French spring water, both signs of the exploitative Capitalist west. These scenes also stand as an introduction to said main character, businessman El Hadji Abdoukader Beye (ably played as a mixture of swaggering and hangdog by Thierno Leye), part of the new government and about to marry his third wife (his "duty", you know). The main problem with this is that his second wife, the glamorous, modern Oumi, is still alive and married to him as indeed is his first wife, the traditional, eternally patient Adja. The distinction is an important one as both represent different periods of the country's history while El Hadji mixes both generally as and when it suits him and the situation he's in. He has children with both women and wants more with his new, much younger wife even though none of his current ones (or his wives for that matter) seem that struck on him or each other with Oumi at one point deriding Adja with the blistering insult "her slit is not horizontal but vertical". His daughter with Adja even openly despises him and acts as the main counterpoint to his choice of lifestyle as, although she is a modern, educated woman, she embraces her Wolof origins and challenges him over his new marriage. He swiftly slaps her down and lectures her that "polygamy is part of our religion" but does so in French, his adopted language. It's a powerful scene but notably absurd in its exploration of the divisions and paradoxical similarities between the two, both products of their history but interpreting their influences differently. There's also the partition between the strong women and the weak but in power men and a further separation between classes, with the government (all business leaders or nobility) doing nothing to help the beggars scooting along the streets dragging their twisted limbs behind them, surviving on shared loaves of bread and tins of Nescafé and cowering as footmen take any coins thrown, even having them moved on by the police. In its second half the film delves deeper in lampooning its anti-hero when he's the victim of a curse (the Xala of the title) cast by an unknown hand. The list of possible perpetrators is practically endless but instead of any form of murder mystery (a potential problem as only one part of his body has been murdered) Sembène concentrates on El Hadji's desperate attempts to restore himself, nearly all of which involve him having to go back to the native customs of his homeland. One in particular, an appointment with a cackling marabout who he tries to pay by cheque, is hilarious and really makes it clear that even when El Hadji looks his most dejected he's never sympathetic. In some ways the narrative is reminiscent of Nikolai Gogol's notorious short story The Nose, in which the nose of Collegiate Assessor Kovalyov inexplicably goes missing with the paranoid owner losing all status and confidence but never discovering the true reason for the abandonment before it just as inexplicably returns. Sembène's story is equally ridiculing of the ruling classes but less surreal and somehow crueller towards its focal point, revelling in his humiliation as his world collapses around him and finally degrading him completely instead of allowing him any sort of redemption. It’s a stunning, uncompromising piece of work encouraging the people to rebel against the subjugation of the state and warning El Hadji’s real-life equivalents not to whitewash their principles. Such cynicism has become the norm in the present day but in the setting of 1960’s and 70’s Africa it was practically unthinkable making the film both a figurative pipe bomb and a huge achievement. A full-blooded classic.
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