QUICK’N DIRTY: LIVE FROM BERLIN
French-Senegale filmmaker Alain Gomis sets his 185-minute film (that’s more than three hours) in France and an unnamed African country. This turns out to be the small Western African nation of Guinea-Bissau once you pick up the fractured pieces of information. About two thirds of this co-production of three countries (France, Senegal and Guinea-Bissau) are deceptively observational. At first, it resembles the work of Chinese documentarist Wang Bing, in terms of duration and fly-on-the-wall meditation. Gradually the signs reveal that in reality this is something far more inventive and elaborate.
Most of the film follows the footsteps of a beautiful and French-born woman called Gloria. Her skin is Black and her complexion African. She wear a brown wig with straight brown hair throughout the entire movie – the European garment is a token of cultural syncretism. Gloria attends the wedding of her daughter Nour to James, a male of around her age. The action takes place inside an opulent estate house/castle in the verdant French countryside. The expensive arrangements include impeccable decoration and superb catering. The guests are dressed to the nines. The music is loud, and the adrenaline is flowing fast. The joy is contagious. Etienne helps to lift the atmosphere with his swagger, humour and various antics. Other males emulate him. Some conflicts emerge, including the uninvited appearance of a a heavily-pregnant white woman called Calypso, welcomed with stabbing eyes. Fortunately, the tension is not strong enough to derail the party.
Parallel to this, Gloria and Nour travel to Africa in order to reconnect with their roots. Gloria reveals that her father was born in the Mother Continent, and first arrived in Europe via Marseille. Mother and daughter attend various religious celebrations, a couple of funeral and the elusive Uchoss (even Gloria confesses she has no idea what that is). There are abundant tribal rituals, dancing and singing. Animals are sacrificed and butchered right in front of our eyes (prompting multiple viewer casualties to walk out). The spirit of a child possesses an old woman. The animist traditions are not easy for Europeans to stomach. What the scenes on both continents have in common is the prevalence of Black characters, and their unabashed festiveness. The film title refers to “a perpetual and circular movement which flows in everything and unites the world”, presumably in reference to the commonalities between Africa and the Africa diaspora, and the carried-on legacy/heritage.
The storyline is neither descriptive nor chronological. In fact, Dao is a non-narrative feature. The manifold events are gently woven together, unsupported by a clearly discernible arc.
The film is spoken in French, Wolof, Manjak and Guinea-Bissau Creole. Locals question the byproducts of colonialism, and debate whether the French or the Portuguese are more racist. We learn that the Iberian occupiers enslaved, looted and destroyed the communities as recently as 70 years ago. Guinea-Bissau is a country with a complex identity – which might explain why it takes so long until viewers can identify the nation. This a proxy and a microcosm of the African continent as a whole: scarred and divided by multiple European nations, but still bursting with joie-de-vivre, and extremely proud of their traditions.
The camera keeps a respectful distance from its characters most of time, resembling a traditional documentary. Informal talking heads interviews, on location and with the lapel mic exposed, dot the film. Dao opens with Gloria, Diminga and other middle-aged Black women talking about their personal history, their anxieties and their willingness to act in a movie. This is a clue to the fact that some of the characters are in fact actors. Gloria is played by Katy Correa, but that you would only find out by reading this review or another external source. The final credits to not correlate actors and characters. The director wilfully sets out to confound viewers.
This is partly observational, partly confessional and partly choreographed movie. It comfortably treads the line between documentary and fiction. Some of the most jubilant scenes in the final 30 minutes are more obviously staged, and extremely beautiful in their composition. A frenetic saxophone helps to inject some stamina into the proceedings. Alain Gomis awes, impresses and surprises his viewers. But he also procrastinates: this tree-hour film marathon is a little exhausting.
Dao just premiered in the Official Competition of the 76th Berlinale. A strong contender for the event’s top prize, the Golden Bear (bar the possibility “anti-political” Jury president Wim Wenders considers the commentary on colonialism off-limits).
