Soulaymane Cisse directs "Yeelen" ("Brightness"). Opening shot: the sun heaving its massive bulk over the West African horizon. Closing shot: a son, carrying an egg, hobbling below the same.
Based on a Mali myth, the film likens the personal to the celestial. Niankoro, our hero, abandons his mother as his father, evil King-sorcerer Soma, once abandoned him. What follows is an Oedipal tale in which the son, whose own magical abilities are only now beginning to blossom, embarks on a journey to wrestle all power from his father. Niankoro even goes so far as to sleep with his father's new wife, before besting the King in a desert duel.
Niankoro is taught the mysteries of the Gods by his mother and uncle, who teach him sorcery and provide him with magical talismans. Their schooling is not enough, though. The boy must journey into adulthood himself. And so we watch as Niankoro goes out into the world, grows in power, feels the pull of sexual desires, and begins to become more and more like his father. He steals animals, bewitches warriors, defeats tribesmen, beds women and sets men on fire. By the film's end, we've witnessed not only a boy's journey into manhood, but a form of manhood that can only be actualised by usurping the father and claiming his perceived powers. In this regard, the film resembles Sophocles' "Oedipus Rex". There, King Oedipus became a sort of liminoid person, in a state of transition, stripped of personal identity. Like Niankoro, he then undergoes an initiation ritual or experience, whilst forever having on his mind the prophecies of the God's: that he is destined to kill his father and marry his mother, before being expelled from his Kingdom as a blind, old and crippled outcast.
"Yeelen" spends most of its running time likening its characters to mythological, larger than life characters. Soulaymane likens the light of personal knowledge and understanding to the material illumination afforded by Gods and Suns. Meanwhile, heavenly, divine bodies are likened to lowly fathers and sons, celestial cycles are likened to human cycles of birth and rebirth, and the film's central conflict between parents and offspring is shown to itself be a never-ending, circular tale. An infinite loop in which boys define themselves in opposition to fathers whom they believe to be barring them from pleasure. Today, all is itself Oedipalism, all is paternalism and aggression in the fear of emasculation.
The film ends with our perceptions of both father and son changing. The old man gains our sympathy, is weak and frail, while the boy has grown into that which he has replaced. Meanwhile, Niankoro's own son stands on the horizon, patiently awaiting his own rites of passage. He holds an egg and walks away, his own future about to hatch.
Aesthetically the film resembles the work of Jodorowsky, Kenneth Anger and perhaps Wojciech Has and Herzog ("Where the Green Ant's Dream" and "Cobra Verde"). Which is to say, it is a very esoteric film and will only appeal to those willing to read Soulaymane's imagery. Soulaymane makes heavy use of symbolism, treats sorcery and enchantment in a matter-of-fact manner and relies on many wordless passages. Audience members may find Soulaymane's aesthetic too provincial.
8/10 - Worth two viewings.
Based on a Mali myth, the film likens the personal to the celestial. Niankoro, our hero, abandons his mother as his father, evil King-sorcerer Soma, once abandoned him. What follows is an Oedipal tale in which the son, whose own magical abilities are only now beginning to blossom, embarks on a journey to wrestle all power from his father. Niankoro even goes so far as to sleep with his father's new wife, before besting the King in a desert duel.
Niankoro is taught the mysteries of the Gods by his mother and uncle, who teach him sorcery and provide him with magical talismans. Their schooling is not enough, though. The boy must journey into adulthood himself. And so we watch as Niankoro goes out into the world, grows in power, feels the pull of sexual desires, and begins to become more and more like his father. He steals animals, bewitches warriors, defeats tribesmen, beds women and sets men on fire. By the film's end, we've witnessed not only a boy's journey into manhood, but a form of manhood that can only be actualised by usurping the father and claiming his perceived powers. In this regard, the film resembles Sophocles' "Oedipus Rex". There, King Oedipus became a sort of liminoid person, in a state of transition, stripped of personal identity. Like Niankoro, he then undergoes an initiation ritual or experience, whilst forever having on his mind the prophecies of the God's: that he is destined to kill his father and marry his mother, before being expelled from his Kingdom as a blind, old and crippled outcast.
"Yeelen" spends most of its running time likening its characters to mythological, larger than life characters. Soulaymane likens the light of personal knowledge and understanding to the material illumination afforded by Gods and Suns. Meanwhile, heavenly, divine bodies are likened to lowly fathers and sons, celestial cycles are likened to human cycles of birth and rebirth, and the film's central conflict between parents and offspring is shown to itself be a never-ending, circular tale. An infinite loop in which boys define themselves in opposition to fathers whom they believe to be barring them from pleasure. Today, all is itself Oedipalism, all is paternalism and aggression in the fear of emasculation.
The film ends with our perceptions of both father and son changing. The old man gains our sympathy, is weak and frail, while the boy has grown into that which he has replaced. Meanwhile, Niankoro's own son stands on the horizon, patiently awaiting his own rites of passage. He holds an egg and walks away, his own future about to hatch.
Aesthetically the film resembles the work of Jodorowsky, Kenneth Anger and perhaps Wojciech Has and Herzog ("Where the Green Ant's Dream" and "Cobra Verde"). Which is to say, it is a very esoteric film and will only appeal to those willing to read Soulaymane's imagery. Soulaymane makes heavy use of symbolism, treats sorcery and enchantment in a matter-of-fact manner and relies on many wordless passages. Audience members may find Soulaymane's aesthetic too provincial.
8/10 - Worth two viewings.