Director Alain Gomis
FÉLICITÉ B+
France Germany Senegal
Lebanon Belgium (129 mi)
2017 d: Alain Gomis Official
site
Winner of the Silver Bear (2nd Place) at the Berlin Film
Festival, and among the nine finalists for Best Foreign Picture, this film takes place in Kinshasa, the post-colonial capital of the
Democratic Republic of the Congo, shot with a cinéma vérité style by French
cinematographer Céline Bozon, whose handheld shots of the cluttered city
streets are transporting, literally immersing viewers into the heart of
Africa. But this is largely a character
study of Véro Tshanda Beya Mputu as Félicité, a fiercely independent Afropop
singer fronting the Kasai Allstars in a small Kinshasa night club that pulsates
with drink and noise and rowdy customers, but music is the lifeblood of the
city, providing a feeling of gritty authenticity in a faraway region of the
planet. In fact, the film seems to have
been written with this musical group in mind, a composite of five different
ethnic groups from the region, each with their own language and musical traditions,
seen in performance here Kasai
Allstars - "Drowning Goat (Mbuji Mayi)" - YouTube (9:55), but the
soundtrack can be heard on Spotify, Around Félicité by
Kasai Allstars on Spotify, yet their constant presence throughout the film
is such a distinguishing feature, along with a local orchestral group seen
elsewhere playing several passages from the symphonic music of Arvo Pärt, from
the familiar refrains of Fratres (10:39), heard in films like WINTER SLEEPERS (1997), There
Will Be Blood (2007), The
Place Beyond the Pines (2012), and The
Club (El Club) (2015), to a chilling liturgical work, Orchestre
Symphonique Kimbanguiste / My Heart's In The Highlands (2:28), where the
stark cultural contrast between Europe and Africa couldn’t be more
remarkable. This music frames the film,
adding color and texture to the resilient story of Félicité, a larger-than-life
figure whose freedom is challenged by a series of tragic events that tests her
endurance, that chops her down to size, leaving her mortally wounded and
exposed, never more vulnerable, even humiliated, where her unconventional
response is not what you’d think, finding her own way to survive through a
minefield of patriarchal oppression designed to diminish her spirit and leave
her defeated. Yet somehow in a landscape
of rampant poverty and overt sexism, she endures, where the exhaustive Odyssean
journey typifies her perseverance and enormous willpower, summoning untapped
reserves of inner strength through the power of mythology and ancestral
appropriation, as elements of the surreal mix with a searing social realism,
creating an extraordinary synthesis of mind, body, and soul to recapture the
essence of her indomitable spirit.
This is a film where art is viewed as nourishment for the
soul, particularly in the use of music, literally providing sustenance to the
needy, allowing society’s fallen figures to draw strength from the vast
reservoir of Kinshasa music, tapping into a cultural vein as needed, helping
fuel their recovery. At the outset, Félicité
is a single mother raising a 14-year old son Samo (Gaetan Claudia), having rid
herself of an abusive husband, where she’s free to live the way she wants, on
her own terms, independent to a fault.
Her biggest problem is a broken refrigerator, turning to a local
handyman of questionable repute, Tabu (Papi Mpaka), as he’s a loudmouth at the
club, seen as something of a drunken rabble rouser in the earlier nightclub
sequences, but everyone has a right to earn a living. Promising a new working fridge for $150
dollars, she’s particularly hard on him, despite his burly frame and poetic
charm, somewhat dazzled by her oversized beauty, but she notes humorously that
to her he’s still a tiny man, rushing out the door with more important things
to do. Yet the next time we see her
perform, she whispers in his ear not to get drunk, as she needs his equipment
to work. In this manner, she allows him
into her life, amused by his headstrong pursuit of her charms, where she’s
willing to give the guy a chance despite his shady reputation as a drunk and a
womanizer. They have an easygoing manner
about them, but it’s clear she’s the boss, the stronger of the two, with an
acid tongue, yet her fiery resolve is exactly what he adores about her. The same could be said for the director, as
initially this actress was chosen to play a minor role, but Gomis became more
and more intrigued by her, fascinated by her irrepressible screen presence,
eventually crafting the entire film around her beguiling persona, while at the
same time expanding the repressive limits of questionable Western standards in
considering a more healthy image of a leading female role. But her world crumbles when she’s notified
that her son was in a serious motorcycle accident, lying in bloodied bandages
at the hospital where patients are stacked up next to one another. Immediately she discovers the Kafkaesque
Congolese system of medical care, as it’s provided on a cash up front basis, as
he will be moved to a better room, or provided the needed medications, and even
the necessary surgery to repair a broken leg only once she produces the
money. This kind of dilemma can bring a
family to financial ruin. Making matters
worse, she is fleeced out of the pharmacy money by another woman sitting at the
bedside of the neighboring patient, who graciously offers to run the errand for
her, but never returns. Her trust was
earned through a con act, pretending to be the relative of a sleeping patient,
but once he awakes, he hasn’t a clue who she was.
With that, Félicité’s spirit is tested like never before, as
her son’s health depends on her, racing against time, revisiting friends and
family, including the musicians she works with, where her door-to-door mission
is similar to Marion Cotillard in Luc and Jean-Pierre Dardenne’s Two
Days, One Night (Deux jours, une nuit) (2014), literally begging
others for help, but still coming up short.
It alters the rhythm of the film, adding a despondent tone of gloom,
scrounging for what little she can rustle up as she visits the various
neighborhoods of the city, offering a panoramic view of the African world,
showing bustling streets with plenty of activity, including the brutal beating
of a petty thief, becoming crushed when people are unable or unwilling to help
her, like her ex-husband who gloats at her weakened disposition, taunting how
she used to be so proud, sneering at how “You puffed out your chest. You wanted to be a strong woman,” feeling
triumph now that she is on her knees, reduced to begging, showing no mercy,
treating her with utter contempt, blaming her for failing their son, who
continues to lie in filthy conditions, becoming a crisis of confidence,
enveloping her world with a profound sadness.
Out of pure desperation, having nowhere else to turn, she arrives at the
door of a local gangster pretending she has some urgent business with him, who
throws her out when he sees what she’s up to, but she clings to the feet of the
security detail, getting battered and beaten, wailing at the top of her lungs,
causing such a commotion that the man pays her off just to get rid of her. By the time she finally arrives with the
money, she discovers her son’s condition took a turn for the worse, losing
plenty of blood, where they were forced to amputate his leg to save his
life. Both she and Samo are heartbroken,
falling into a deep depression where dialogue becomes superfluous, as Félicité
traverses an abstract spirit world, exploring a darkened forest in a dreamlike
nocturnal night with barely visible images, entering a shadow world, much like
the Orpheus underground of Jean Cocteau, wading into water, crossing a wide
river, eventually encountering a mythical animal, an okapi, on the other side,
which she embraces, blending the surreal with the real, as if purging her sins,
adding a mystical element of transformation.
In what is largely a realist drama, this is a particularly alluring
aspect of the film, adding magical elements that permeate through the recovery
process. With Tabu’s help, he carries
her son home from the hospital, but he refuses to even attempt to use the
crutches, instead drowning in his own self-pity. Tabu has a quiet influence, however, adding
warmth, being there as a non-judgmental paternal example, not making any
demands on either Samo or Félicité, allowing them to make their own way, with Félicité
finally acknowledging, “I like your way of being,” even as she finds another
woman lying in her bed. Tolerance has
its virtues, as the music heard throughout adds its own healing force,
providing a recuperative power that allows both to recover, finally fixing that
damned refrigerator by the end, coming full circle, delivering a hard-earned
smile. This is an unsentimentalized film
about facing one’s hardships, where even the loftiest souls among us must come
down to earth and face their own spiritual resurrection.
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