Black Girl

Black Girl (1966)

*** (out of 4)

Impessive feature from Ousmane Sembene about a black woman (Mbissine Therese Diop) from Senegal who goes to live in France as a servant but soon begins to feel the abuse of her "owner." Some people have called BLACK GIRL one of the greatest films ever made but I'm going to fall well short of that type of praise. With that said, there's no question that the film has a pretty strong message and gets its across without having to preach or wag fingers in the viewers face. Some people have complained about the look and style of the picture but I personally thought this was one of the highlights. I really liked how the thing almost came across as a documentary as we often just see the woman as she is working or being abused and then we hear her narration afterwards. I also liked how the flashbacks were used to give us more information about the woman and of course this leads us to the ending, which I'm not going to spoil for those who haven't seen the film. It's certainly a very effective one that will lead people to have their own views on what it actually means. I liked how the film isn't just about a black and white issues but there's also the issues of differences between people of different countries as well as a issue of money. Director Sembene does a very good job at telling the story and doing so in a rather original way. The performance from the lead actress is simply wonderful as is the supporting one from Anne-Marie Jelinek.

"La Noire de..."--better translated as "The Black Girl/Woman de...," retaining the French preposition with its ambiguous connotations, either meaning "of" or "from" or "belonging to"--is credited as the first sub-Saharan African feature film to receive international acclaim. Its author, Sembène Ousmane is likewise considered the "father of African cinema." Indeed, Senegal had only recently declared independence from French colonial rule in 1960, and, reportedly, before that Africans in French colonies were prohibited from making their own movies. One assumes this ban existed because the authorities feared such a thoroughly anti-colonialist picture being presented as in "Black Girl" and even more so that it be artfully composed. For, despite clocking in at under an hour (although originally a bit longer), Ousmane's film tenders a taut thesis, subtly adorned in art and while still managing a shamefully shocking end and strikingly symbolic epilogue.

If this were simply postcolonial social commentary, as admirable as that message may be, it would be easy to write off "Black Girl," which is what the French Film Bureau did in rejecting to produce it (although, they later purchased the rights to (or not to) distribute it). It's the crafting of the message that makes this a great film, though. I especially love the use of the mask here--a piece of African art much like the film itself that serves as a source of contention for its control, within and without the film. At first, while in Dakar, Diouana, the protagonist, offers the mask as a gift to her employers, for which they place it beside other pieces of African art decorating their villa. Back in their high-rise apartment in France, however, the mask hangs alone on the white family's wall, with the only apparent other they take back with them from Senegal to France being Diouana. When the boy who originally possessed the mask regains it, he shadows one of Diouana's employers, the man, as if haunting him with the history of colonialism while simultaneously deporting him from a newly free nation.

The precision of the black-and-white cinematography is worth remarking upon here, too. With a minimalist aesthetic reflecting its low budget and the influence of the French New Wave, it may be easy to miss how well the photography reinforces the social commentary. Jonathan Rosenbaum (see his book, "Movies as Politics"), for one, reiterates what another film critic, Lieve Spass, says regarding the black-and-white dichotomy of the picture in everything from the dots on Diouana's dress, the food they consume (white rice and milk, black coffee and "Black and White" whisky), to, most dramatically, Diouana in the white bathtub. There's also the dark mask on the apartment's white wall, the black void Diouana stares out at from that apartment, in addition to the obvious pigmentation. When the white French woman looks over a crowd of black women waiting for work as maids, the visual connotation to a slave market isn't lost. Nor is it when Diouana is mistreated by those she serves in France: the shrewish madame treating her as inferior, the mostly indifferent monsieur, kissed by a stranger who doesn't bother with a request or introduction after remarking that he's never kissed a black woman before, overhearing another guest suppose that Diouana instinctually, "like an animal," understands commands in the French language (one may be forgiven for thinking it was the two centuries of French colonial rule that explains the people of Senegal knowing French--heck, the Normans only controlled England for half a century a millennium ago, and there remain thousands of French cognates in the English language to this day, but I digress).

It rather goes without saying that this is an economical picture, although, again reportedly, originally the film included a color sequence. In addition to the photography, however, there's the sparsity of story and dialogue, which I admire, notwithstanding that some Westerners seem to be put off by it. Regardless, relying on Diouana's internal narration is effective in focusing the narrative and getting the point across--that the dream and promises that led her to France becomes alienated from her confined reality, which she compares to being treated like a prisoner and slave, as others cast her as a racial, supposedly inferior "other." Her illiteracy along with her general muteness compounds her alienation, as wrenchingly detailed in the scene involving a letter supposedly from her mother. The general English translation of the title is rather suiting in this regard, to simply label her and the film as the "Black Girl," to not even question from whence she belongs--her identity simply stated and assumed, as her employers and the colonizers would have it. The film returns her voice, if only for the spectator, and likewise the identity of postcolonial Africa.

This Senegalese film is very important. It's a film made by black filmmakers and espouses a very strong black nationalist attitude. Because of this, it must have really struck a chord for African film patrons.

"Black Girl" is a film about a young woman from Senegal that has taken a job working for a white French family. She thinks she was hired to take care of the children but the woman of the house sees Diouana as a personal servant and soon this young lady finds herself working as a maid--and an under-appreciated on at that. Part of the problem is a communication barrier between the white family and Diouana as often neither quite understands the other's expectations. Part of it is the wife is rather cold and sees the Africans as being dumb and beneath her. Where does all this end up? Well, in a sad way it's a giant 'I'm not gonna take it any more' from Diouana--much like the attitude through the continent towards their colonial or former colonial masters.

While this is a very important film and it would be great to use in a class about African cinema or world history, technically speaking it has a few small shortcomings. It's not the smoothest or highest quality production--but considering its humble roots, I can easily look past that and it's still worth seeing if you are patient and can appreciate the context for when it was made (such as the Patrice Lumumba banner briefly seen in a tiny portion of the film).

The print I saw was a bit erratic and grainy, and included one jumpy sequence in color, whereas the rest was in black and white. This is the deceptively simple story of a woman from Senegal who joins a French family in France to be their nanny touches on many cultural, colonial, racial, and emotional issues, and if you look for easy answers, or answers at all, you'll be disappointed. There's a bit of French New Wave to the film, though it's really mostly African, featuring Senegalese music on the soundtrack. The only real flaw I see is that the story is told rather sketchily, with little in the way of clues as to the timing. Do the events take place over the course of a few days or weeks? The ending comes up so quickly that it feels a little forced, though not entirely unexpected.

On the one hand, 'Black Girl' is a very personal film about a young Senegalese girl who goes to France to escape her poverty stricken life in Senegal. But on the other hand, 'Black Girl' is also an immensely political film which tackles racism head on. This is a film which is narrow in terms of focus, but extremely broad in terms of its ambitions with its social and political relevance.

Sembène uses a non-linear screenplay structure and jumps back and forth between Diouana's present life in France and her past life in French occupied Senegal. Through the flashback sequences, we get to see how she took it upon herself to turn her back on the racism and the oppression that characterised her life in Senegal and move to the new land. But unfortunately moving to France for her ends up being nothing other than a journey from one prison to another. She becomes literally and figuratively imprisoned in the house of her employers. The mistress of the house tricks her into doing far more work around the house than she signed up for. The confinement and the complete disintegration of the dreams she had of the life she'd get to live in France gradually make her lose her spirit and her faith. This film underlines the notion that the poisons of oppression and racism with their roots in regressive imperialism have much more to do with mentality than geography.

As I have mentioned Sembène does a very good job of balancing the personal with the political/social. Although the film is very Diouana-centric, the social and political relevance is always the elephant in the room lurking around in the corner and Sembène will from time to time overtly allow the politics to move from the background to the foreground, for example there is a moment when three distinguish-ably dressed Senegalese men are shown to have a conversation about civil rights and the current political scene as Diouana walks past them. It is a scene that serves no purpose in the basic narrative of the film, but it serves a thematic purpose considering the political backdrop of the film. Although the film as a whole paints a bit of grim picture of the life of Senegalese and African people in a world still not completely beyond the grips of an imperialist attitude, Sembène still manages to end the film on a beautiful note for the future generations of Senegal. The ending sequence seamlessly blends the ideas of imperial guilt of Europeans and optimism with regards to reclamation of their rightful political power by the Senegalese people in the future.

'Black Girl' directly tackles racism and does so in a very uninhibited manner and it deserves all the praise for its intentions and its message. However, even though I admire the film for the nobility of its intentions, from a technical and storytelling standpoint, I do think it is a bit flawed. First of all the way Sembène uses the voice-over narration here really reminded me of Bresson's use of the same in the way that it is used for overtly expository purposes which always ends up leaving me a bit irritated and honestly the voice-over in many of the scenes in which it is used seems redundant. The best scenes in the film are the wordless ones when Sembène dwells on an image to evoke an emotion instead of Diouana explaining everything. Another flaw in the film is the quality of the acting. The acting gets a little too amateurish at times which prevents some scenes to have the most optimum emotional impact.

'Black Girl' deserves to be seen because of its political and social importance and relevance in Senegalese history and how it influenced the growth of personal, independent cinema in Africa. I don't think it is a flawless, perfect film, but I can't help but admire the themes, the intentions and the potency of its message.