Black Girl (1966)

 
Welcome back for another round in the Criterion Collection Backlog Challenge (we're still shopping names around.)

This marks a small, but special road marker for me on this project – this marks the first movie on this list that I had not seen before. With that said, Black Girl made a very strong first impression on me.

First off, just reading up on the backstory of this movie is worth it. I don't mean in the sense you get often now of a larger in-film lore, rather the life of the movie's director, Ousmane Sembène, and the role this film has in the larger history of African cinema. In the case of the former, Sembène had already lived a pretty storied life even before he took up film, making a prominent mark as a writer and activist before deciding on film as the best medium to reach people. This movie, meanwhile came in part as a result of changes following Senegal's independence from France (stick a pin in this, we'll be coming back to it.) The Senegalese, largely blocked from making film by law before that point, were finally given an opportunity to make their mark on film history.

Black Girl is largely considered to be, perhaps not the first in general, but certainly the first movie of this movement to really make an international impression. A well earned distinction, given how hard Sembène had to fight to get it made in the first place (I'd highly recommend reading the essay for the film on the Criterion website for this, rather than have me unload all of that here.)

Like the films that led this project last month, this movie is by no means diminished by the history around it. Quite the opposite, for clocking in at only a little shy of an hour, Black Girl leaves one Hell of an impact, one that's even stronger when you know the larger context it was made in.

This is the first, and certainly won't be the last film
on this project where it's gonna be tricky for me to get
cheeky with the captions.

So in the meantime, the link to the above-mentioned essay:
https://www.criterion.com/current/posts/4402-black-girl-self-possessed

Part of why this film proved such an uphill battle (I promised myself I wouldn't just rehash, but I'm going somewhere with this) is because Sembène did NOT want to make a happy film out of his country's independence. He was certainly glad to not be under French rule, but he also recognized that they were still not completely free of France's influence.

In that regard, the movie is a perfect microcosm of that sentiment – the titular girl, Diouana (Mbissine Thérèse Diop, giving this movie's emotional core a lot of its resonance) agrees to a job with a white family in France. Initially excited by the offer, she soon realizes the situation is far from what was promised, finding herself effectively a prisoner in the apartment she works in, treated in equal parts with disdain, disinterest, and fascination as an oddity. The last is captured in especially uncomfortable nature in a dinner party where Diouana serves the guests, while treated to all manner of commentary about her from them along the way.

As you can likely tell, this falls under
'fascination' in a genuinely unsettling way.

Throughout the film, we're treated to flashbacks of Diouana's life back in Dakar, first from the day she got the job offer and expanding beyond that from there. The contrast, not surprisingly, is stark - the open, welcome life she has at home compared to the close confines (in every sense) of her life in France. The only shared symbol between the two worlds for Diouana is a mask she buys from a local boy to give to her new employer, where that piece of her culture is rendered purely decoration with no meaning behind it.

I know I did this last week, but once again, if anyone wants to avoid spoilers, I'm gonna ask you to skip ahead to the end (to make this easier, do a CTRL-F to 'SPOILER END'), cause this is another film where I want to discuss the ending in terms of impact.

Okay?

Moving on.

There's a lot to recommend in this film, and a lot of things that will stick with you. One of the biggest examples of this is the film's final scenes. Diouana, having come to terms with the fact she was lied to repeatedly by her employers as they tried to control aspects of her life tries to fight back, ultimately in vain. Realizing she is in a no-win situation with them, she concludes the only way out is to commit suicide.

The act isn't played for high drama. In fact, the reveal is fairly stoic, paired with a news clipping that doesn't even mention her by name. The heavy hit, instead, comes in the aftermath of the suicide, when the man who hired her (Robert Fontaine) returns to Dakar to give Diouana's family her possessions and try to offer the money she was promised to her family. They decline, and as he leaves, he finds himself followed by a young boy, wearing the mask and watching him every step of the way to the boat.

The end result is considerably more resonant than a full
hour of "Screw you!"s could have been.
Albeit that would still be pretty damn cathartic.

It's a powerful message in the larger post-colonial context of the movie. Of the two employers, the man is presented as the 'lesser evil' (one would be hard pressed to call him good, but compared to the crueler demeanor of his wife, he is far more passive and indifferent toward Diouana). Despite his not being overtly antagonistic, he nevertheless stands by and watches everything happen, doing nothing to stop it. When he attempts to make it 'right' by offering money, he is justifiably rebuked. Simply watching oppression might be argued as being better than actively oppressing, but it still can't be taken as good, and one can't pretend their hands are clean for the act either.

SPOILER END.

If I had to describe Black Girl in a single word, it's probably 'angry.' Not in the sense of full-throated rage or hyperbole. Rather, the anger in the film is quiet and intense. It doesn't scream its message at you, but Sembène still makes what he's saying incredibly clear in a controlled, effective manner. He doesn't wish for the days of French rule back, but doesn't think they've magically vanished into thin air either.

As a first impression, both as a movie, and as a director, this landed for me. So much so that, earlier this week, a Criterion flash sale led me to put in an order for Sembène's later Mandabi. I'm looking forward to seeing more of the man's work and, even independent of this project, reading up on his life and career in general.

That makes for a strong note to end our second month on. Next time we're shifting gears again for March with Women's History Month. As you can imagine, that will mean exploring some films directed by women, starting off with a name that's been a cinematic blind spot for me for a while. A blind spot I look forward to correcting.

Till then.