Tuesday, 7 September 2021

Timbuktu (2014)

(***1/2 stars / *****)

Thanks to pandemic-induced run of online film festivals and a movie-passionate friend, I came upon this Abderrahmane Sissako written and directed drama, a tragic tale of extremist and religious imposition. 

What would you do if religious extremists took over your resident state and imposed extreme restrictions on your life? 

What if playing games and music is forbidden, and women are forcefully asked to cover their body from 'tempting' view? 

How stifling and caged would that life be? 

Would you flee from that place or stay and suffer the consequences?  

Timbuktu is no championed, heroic tale, but a stark true events-inspired portrayal of scrapping a crushed existence under gun-wielding extremist force.

The Mauritanian-French language tale is set in the desert-ridden, barren landscape of Timbuktu, Mali. 

Kidane (Ibrahim Ahmed dit Pino) lives a difficult but peaceful life with his wife Satima (Toulou Kiki), young daughter Toya (Layla Walet Mohamed) and a 12-year-old shepherd boy Issan (Mehdi Ag Mohamed). 

But when one of his cow's is killed by a local fishermen, things fall apart. 

The dominant Islamic religious militia interpret the religious law for their fanatic benefit. 

From children forbidden to play football, music banned as a crime, women asked to cover their body (even their hands with gloves!), and death by stoning for adultery, Kidane's fate is sealed, but there is a catch. 

Timbuktu may be set in Mali, but its derelict occurrences could be happening anywhere in the world. 

Reckless, merciless and foolish rulers causing the sufferings of millions is no longer distant fiction, but a writhing reality even in so-called superpowers like America. 

The screenplay hangs loose at times, but the hard realism, desert-sand emptiness, numbness of curtailed freedom gets through in the silent, telling moments. 

Despite some great and some not-so-great acting, sparse setting, limited-budget art, cinematography and music direction, Timbuktu is a grim yet slow-burn warning call to oppression in religion's name.

Cinema that is tragic and telling, true to life.