Touki bouki

First, I didn't like the movie because I felt I wasn't able to enjoy it really. It made the impression of a TV documentary on how livestock is mistreated in Western Africa.

Then, by quite confusingly repeating a scene scored by somewhat mystical pop music, the film turned to the other extreme and made me consider it over-sybolistic.

Then, finally, the actual story began, and I could figure out various things. I could separate dream from reality, although this was not so easy, and I thought the film was too clichéd at some moments (e. g. the fat gay man, who was charming but a little camp).

Now that the film is over and I thought back to it I believe it is not at all a bad movie. Many discontinuities and an unusual narrative style are something we should welcome. Regarding the images and colours it is a wonderful piece of work. The film seems like brilliant illustration of an average story.

Disorienting and at times even a bit schizophrenic, this is an extraordinarily vibrant, pulsating, and eccentric film. Comparisons to the anarchic, jumpy, free-associative style of the French New Wavers are not far off, but there's something much more erotic and carnal in the film's playfulness.

The story of self-assured college beauty Anta and her fella - Mory the motorcycle-riding herdsman - starts in Dakar and wistfully wanders toward Paris, the seemingly unattainable city of their dreams. Their get-rich-quick schemes and the breezy, colorful manner in which they unfold are funny and inspired.

Along the way, there are sequences of both utter hilarity and genuine depth, although the film does sometimes seem unsure of its many potentially-symbolic representations. But the stylistic narrative and experimental technical aspects are so full of ideas that talk of the film's minor weaknesses seems trivial.

The soundtrack is outstanding, full of syncopation and polyrhythms pacing the film and giving a rich texture to the images. And there's constant movement, until the film's denouement where character, story, camera and concept fuse together in common paralysis, where all seems frozen in reflection.

Finally tracked this 1973 film down after watching and enjoying "Hyenas" by the same director earlier this year. Purportedly, "Hyenas" was the sequel to this, but that might be more in an emotional sense, as this film is vibrant with youthful desire, especially desire to flee the motherland of Senegal, while in "Hyenas" a bewitching/besmirched woman returns to Senegal after decades of being abroad.

Youth is what drives "Touki Bouki" - a mismatched couple of Mory and Anta, full of big dreams lacking even the smallest details. Their crime spree is more innocent than Bonnie and Clyde, or Oliver Stone's "Natural Born Killers." But there is that sort of recklessness that propels them from scene to scene.

And there is youth behind the camera as well, although his brother talks about the director's scripting ability in the bonus scenes, much of the film has a raw improvised flair to it. Capture an animal being slaughtered, work in some three-card monte, dig up some gris-gris by the shore, include lots of street and road life, Tarzan in a tree and a wicked knife bearing crazy lady and a skull in a treasure chest.

Most of the crimes and dreams fall short, but finally a trip to an ocean-side pool leads to a clothes-make-the-man-and-woman fantasy flight for paradise. Or at least Paris, Paris, Paris (noticed the cast notes highlights Josephine Baker for her singing in this, she an emblem for fleeing an unappreciative if not hostile homeland ).

Are there elements here of class divide, of colonialism and racism, sure. Toss in some interesting angles on sex, Anta has a defiant androgeny that I bet captivated the director. She might make a modern-day heroine/hero for many. It's that youthful frustration with problems a budding adult senses have been around too long, but somehow s/he feels they can, they must overcome.

Yet even as you dream of the refined ocean liner outbound, you see the rotting husk of a ship offshore.

The plot is a tad thinner here than in "Hyenas" but what was interesting was the choice Mory makes at the end, granted a bit obfuscated by that strange Tarzan-esque interference.

Ultimately the film captured the intoxicating chaos of youth, while delivering a more subtle sobering statement about how one's own liberty is enmeshed in one's surroundings, even when those surroundings feel as though they conspire against one.

A dilemma, with horns.

An African film here about youth, about the thirst to escape from a place that parches it and the bike ride through dirt roads out to sea where a ship sails for Europe. But I want to avoid merely a museum visit or an aesthetic token from a faraway place, I want the heart that pounds behind appearances and gives rise to their breeze of color. What heart here?

First are the things he says about the home that is left behind. Symbolic cows being led to slaughter and cut to the young lead riding his motorbike with cow horns on the wheel. A stolen chest, supposedly full of money to pay for a DeGaulle statue but it contains a corpse.

These are the things the filmmaker knows exactly what he wants to say about. They're also the least interesting to watch for me. The young lead being wrestled by leftist students is intercut with cows being wrestled before the slaughter. The dear bike stolen by a savage white man and left broken while he's extracted with merely a broken leg. Not without nuance, but some of it is as didactic as we make fun of Hollywood.

More tantalizing is the journey through these to outrun them, even more so once you realize this is the same journey the filmmaker himself made from that same port. A yearning for freedom, but the desired freedom is a life of material comforts in Europe, what every boy his age would dream about, cafés and girls. Meanwhile the girl meekly tugs along behind her childish man. There's a sense that she quietly yearns for more; but she also feels beautiful in the (stolen) pink suit and red hat, as any girl would. I like films where youth is embraced with its dreams and folly, this is one.

But also a deeper heart, things which the filmmaker doesn't know how to express clearly but vaguely feels stirring. There are a few of these where the surface of the film is rippled by some hidden vortix that seems to rage in the deep, like when the girl thinks he has drowned. If the journey is Godard, this is Pasolini. This might be part of what some reviews note as sloppy technique. True. This is a man still trying to fathom how images can surround a feel.

So this is it here, a journey where as these two lovers flee, they get caught up in situations that tear from them images of who they are and what their surrounding world is like, images the air takes along which become the film. In the end one self is left behind, the one who has not outrun this world.

The first important thing to say is that I hope that no animals are ill treated or killed in the course of filming which is unacceptable and strictly forbidden. The images are powerful indeed in terms of scenes, surroundings and people's faces, bodies, expressions and behaviours. The action takes place in Senegal and the story is simple and well shown. A cow herd and a university student are longing to leave Senegal and emigrate to Paris. They try to succed in that by doing a lot of things including stealing money from other people to pay for a ship travel to France. Through it we see and are aware of the life and usages of the Sebegalese lower social class. All well filmed, directed and acted. And last but not least we listen on the background part of a Parisian song by the beautiful voice of Josephine Baker.