Banel & Adama
Ramata-Toulaye Sy's debut feature is a Senegalese love story that often touches perfection.
It is probably fair to say that the 1970s was the outstanding decade for films made in Senegal and not just because it was the decade in which Ousmane Sembène made his name with a series of feature works. It's true that in more recent times Mati Diop’s Atlantics (2019) made an impact and was set in Dakar but the fact that Banel & Adama takes place in a remote area in the north of the country makes for a film that feels refreshingly different. It also brings us a new name to note since the film’s writer/director Ramata-Toulaye Sy is here making her first feature film.
Banel & Adama is a work that I would strongly wish to recommend, but not it must be said to everybody. Those who look for clear-cut storytelling that leaves one without any doubt to the filmmaker’s purpose are not likely to be happy with this film. They would certainly find shortcomings, as indeed I do, albeit that in my view any defects are far outweighed by the merits of the piece. Sy herself is patently an artist, one with an individual vision, and the colour photography by Amine Berrada is some of the most sheerly beautiful seen in recent cinema. That is literally so in the colourful depiction of the rural community which gets the tale going and then when the story turns bleak due to drought endangering the lives not only of the cattle but of their owners the images capture the arid condition of the baked land quite superbly. Furthermore, the two leading players – the debutants Khady Mane as Banel and Mamadou Diallo as her husband Adama – are perfectly cast. The young couple’s bond – intense and sensual – is admirably suggested, while the story which focuses first and foremost on Banel enables us to realise that Khady Mane is one of those players that the camera loves. Fine as Diallo is, it is her performance which in itself makes this a film that I would not have wanted to miss.
While the outstanding qualities of the piece are quickly apparent, its actual nature is to some extent debatable. Nevertheless, the central situation here is entirely straightforward. We learn that Banel had previously been involved in an arranged marriage with Adama’s older brother, Yero, and that following his death in an accident Adama had accepted the Muslim belief that in such a case a younger brother has a duty to marry the widow. That the couple thus brought together should be so happy is not surprising because it turns out that they had fallen in love earlier but had bowed to pressure when it was decided that Banel should marry Yero. However, even if they appear to have been born for each other, it is nevertheless the case that Banel is the stronger figure, a woman who questions the servile role of women in the community and the way in which her mother-in-law (Binta Racine Sy) seeks to order her about. But, even if Banel’s influence plays a part in it, Adama himself is ready to take a stand by choosing to decline when told that he is next in line and consequently expected to take on the role of village chief. Despite family and neighbours who disapprove, Banel and Adama are preparing to leave the village itself and to make a separate home for themselves outside it. This involves excavating a house nearby that had been buried by sandstorms.
This situation, persuasively rendered, leads one to expect a narrative in which this quest for independence, one that represents a more modern approach to life and which challenges the traditional outlook in this part of the world including its superstitions and its patriarchal character, will be sympathetically viewed. One also assumes that the film will be entirely on the side of the couple, so it is something of a shock when the underlying determination that we see in Banel and which we admire is found to be accompanied by a ruthless streak (her use of a catapult illustrates this and she is ready to target animals with it). To give Banel certain characteristics likely to alienate us could, of course, be used to bring subtlety into a story that invites the viewer to ponder both the good and the bad side of a bid for independence. One certainly finds that when belatedly Adama accedes to what the community needs of him there is a sense that his stance shows up Banel as being too self-centred. But it's also the case that religious beliefs are having an unfortunate impact on Adama making him see his earlier refusal to be chief as being the cause of the long-lasting drought brought on the people by Allah.
The complexity of all this which might have enriched the film instead adds to one's feeling that its ultimate viewpoint needs to be better defined. In a pre-credit sequence Adama tells Banel an ancient story which she regards as a fable and in some ways this film could itself also be regarded as a fable despite containing so much that seems realistic. There are indeed times, the opening scene included, in which Banel talks of hearing voices as though ancient religious beliefs were indeed authentic and a sense of other-worldly influences affecting her is also suggested. This all adds to the difficulty of knowing just how we are meant to interpret Banel & Adama and that eventually becomes a drawback. In ordinary circumstances that might well be a fatal flaw, but the quality of Sy’s filmmaking and the impact of Khady Mane’s presence are factors so potent that they outweigh by far the film’s less satisfactory aspects.
Original title: Banel e Adama.
MANSEL STIMPSON
Cast: Khady Mane, Mamadou Diallo, Binta Racine Sy, Moussa Sow, Amadou Ndiaye, Amadou Kane Sylla, Sawdatou Sy, Amadou Hady Sall, Chérif Diallo, Ndiabel Diallo, Oumar Samba Dia, Nima Ba.
Dir Ramata-Toulaye Sy, Pro Éric Névé, Margaux Júvenal and Maud Leclair Névé, Screenplay Ramata-Toulaye Sy, Ph Amine Berrada, Pro Des Oumar Sall, Ed Vincent Tricon, Music Bachar Mar-Khalifé, Costumes Mariam Diop.
La Chauve Souris/Take Shelter/Astou Films/DS Productions/Arte France Cinéma/Ciné+/Canal+ International-We Are Parable.
87 mins. France/Senegal/Mali. 2023. UK Rel: 15 March 2024. Cert. 12A.
