MOOLAADE
Sunday 11th at 10.00 am and
Tuesday 13th June at
8.30 pm
RUNNING TIME 120 MINUTES
RATED M
(Senegal/France/Burkina Faso/Cameroon/Morocco/Tunisia)
SYNOPSIS:
In a West African village, a group of young girls refuses to
take part in the ritual of 'purification' or genital circumcision.
Those who remain in the village take shelter with Colle Gallo
Ardo Sy (Fatoumata Coulibaly), who has refused to have her
own daughter cut, and who puts them under a spell of protection
or 'moolaadé'. Soon Colle incurs the anger of the village elders
as well as the Salidana, a group of women entrusted with performing
the 'purification' ceremony.
Review by Jake Wilson:
There are moments when this agitprop drama feels almost too close
to crowd-pleasing formula to be taken seriously, particularly
since few Western viewers are likely to need convincing about
the evils of genital mutilation. At the climax, progressive and
conservative forces are literally lined up against each other
in the village square; no action movie could make it clearer
which side we're meant to cheer, though the ensuing battle is
fought less with conventional weapons than with communal chanting
and snappy one-liners ('It takes more than a set of balls to
make a man.')
Still, the 82-year-old Senegalese director and novelist Ousmane
Sembene is hardly Oprah Winfrey. While the film is easy to watch,
it's a challenge for the critic to get a handle on its apparently
straightforward yet engrossing style. The trick could be a storytelling
technique that draws with absolute confidence on already-established
meanings, in a traditional society where every encounter has
the clarity of ritual. Thus there's no clearcut distinction between
public and private spaces or roles; wherever they're placed,
characters are always pointing their fingers at each other, or
rising before they make a speech.
Though the act of mutilation itself isn't shown, a number of
violent confrontations and a crucial sex scene suggest how the
struggle between modernity and tradition is fought out physically
on individual bodies. But there's a further trick or irony here,
deriving from Sembene's deep ambivalence towards practices and
beliefs which threaten the weak and innocent but also aid them.
If female circumcision serves no practical purpose, the age-old
power of the Moolaade is equally symbolic: in a running gag of
sorts, we repeatedly see how easily the physical rope barrier
is breached by unimportant beings like toddlers and chickens.
Sembene's ultimate loyalty to tradition likewise comes through
in his use of archetypes, as if he were more interested in power
struggles than psychology (the most fully-drawn character is
also the most Westernised, the lecherous peddler Mercenaire).
The occasional moments of subjective fantasy are also crucial,
but they're used less to reveal the minds of individuals than
to move the film closer towards fairy tale - as in the startling
early shot where the red-robed Salidana become inhuman figures
wearing wooden masks, emerging from the mist.
to top
|