As a gamer who’s spent countless hours navigating digital worlds, I found myself deeply immersed in Mati Diop’s cinematic journey with Dahomey. It was like embarking on an epic quest in a grand RPG, but instead of battling dragons and demons, we were fighting the ghosts of colonialism.
In her debut full-length directorial project, Atlantics, filmmaker Mati Diop narrated a tale of love and spirits. The story unfolds in Dakar where it revolves around Ada (Mame Bineta Sane) and her worker lover Souleiman (Ibrahima Traoré). Tragically, Souleiman and his workmates drown at sea, but their spirits return as ghosts, taking over the bodies of living residents in Dakar. In this film, Diop crafted a captivating storyline that delves into how our lives continue to resonate even after we depart from our physical existence. Our stories transcend the boundaries of birth and death; they extend far beyond these limitations, reflecting our profound connections with the wider world.
As a gamer delving into the world of documentaries, I find myself once again stepping behind the lens for “Dahomey,” a captivating film that uncovers another dimension of how history persists beyond mere stories. The title “Dahomey” refers to the ancient Kingdom of Dahomey, which ceased to exist in 1904 following 304 years of existence. In 1892, these valuable artifacts were plundered by French colonizers and showcased at the Musée du Quai Branly – Jacques Chirac. Many tourists have walked past these treasures enclosed within glass cases without a second glance. However, these priceless objects symbolize culture, tradition, and the resilience of humanity that colonialists sought to eradicate. They should be repatriated to their homeland, not used for financial gain by descendants of colonizers living far away.
Diop and cinematographer Joséphine Drouin-Viallard start their film, “Dahomey,” in Paris, a city where some of these artifacts were once confined. Their shots outside Paris depict the glittering Eiffel Tower trinkets and a broad view of unidentifiable wealthy partygoers on a boat. These images subtly convey an atmosphere of detachment that rarely focuses on or values Parisian citizens. This is strikingly different from their use of close-up shots, which capture various items such as King Ghezo’s statue or the people of Benin (the renamed version of the Republic of Dahomey). Society at large has long granted significance to these looters, but Diop’s visual style for “Dahomey” challenges this norm.
In Paris, the scene shifts dramatically as viewers learn that 26 artifacts are being returned to Benin. At this point, Diop introduces a more dramatic and scripted aspect into his film Dahomey. Some parts of the story are narrated from the perspective of an artifact named 26, which communicates through a chorus of voice-over actors. This object expresses itself in deeply philosophical and existential phrases such as “within me lies infinity”. Dahomey primarily uses observational filmmaking, showcasing people going about their daily lives in museums or college students participating in open discussions. However, there are also artistic, dream-like sequences where 26, often immersed in darkness, muses about its existence.
Diop brings a tangible life to artifacts that have been hidden away in the shadows for far too long through his thoughtful digressions. This artistic approach eloquently conveys the profound psychological impact of keeping these priceless items locked away for over a century. The diverse filmmaking techniques used in Dahomey serve as reminders that sometimes, stylized approaches are necessary to truly grasp reality. In addition, extended scenes featuring students from the University of Abomey-Calavi discussing the consequences of returning these relics to Benin provide a more grounded perspective. While some express pure joy at seeing these artifacts on their native soil, others voice justifiable frustration that only 26 out of approximately 7,000 stolen items have been returned home.
Instead of joy, some people in these Dahomey scenes view this incident as a grave insult. Within this very room, there are numerous perspectives on France returning fragments of stolen Dahomey artifacts. However, Diop’s camera consistently captures a prevailing sentiment among most, if not all, testimonies: an acknowledgment of the ongoing harm colonialism has inflicted upon their lives. An early speaker in these discussions recalls growing up watching Disney, Avatar, Tom & Jerry…never encountering an animated film that depicted his culture. Later, a woman states that due to the lasting impact of France’s occupation, she cannot freely express her thoughts in her native language. Instead, she is compelled to communicate in French, the language of her oppressors.
Transfixing portraits of everyday life emphasizing humanity in both objects and Benin citizens dominates Dahomey’s visual scheme. This is a quiet movie, right down to its sonically muted end credits. That subdued scope is one of Dahomey’s greatest strengths. Naturalistic moments like a lengthy shot of a small Benin child looking around at Dahomey artifacts in a local exhibit have room to breathe in these confines. Voice-over testimony from “26” (a label this object later eschews) is similarly free of rushed pacing.
The innovative and leisurely style of “Dahomey” might provoke irritation instead of applause from some cinema-goers, but it’s a pity for them since there is an abundance of impressive and subtly revolutionary artistry to admire here. Running slightly over an hour (excluding credits), Mati Diop shows far more creativity and visual skill than the recent American blockbusters like “Megalopolis” and “Joker: Folie a Deux”. Similar to her 2019 masterpiece “Atlantics”, Diop’s “Dahomey” carefully explores the intersection of past and present.
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2024-10-24 19:14