Dahomey
(Benin/France/Senegal, 67 min.)
Dir. Mati Diop
Programme: Special Presentations (North American premiere)
26. It’s the number of precious artifacts returning home to the Kingdom of Dahomey after spending over 100 years on display in French museums. The priceless artworks, which include thrones and statues made in tribute to kings, were seized among the thousands stolen during a 1892 French invasion of the African kingdom that’s now housed in the country known as Benin.
26 also happens to be the number of the objets d’art through which audiences see the repatriation journey in Dahomey. The statue boasts the likeness of King Ghézo, who ruled the Kingdom of Dahomey from 1818 to 1859 and watched over the land through the figure in the afterlife. His soul hasn’t had a good night’s sleep on French soil and he looks forward to going home. Mati Diop’s documentary, which won the Golden Bear at this year’s Berlin Film Festival, is an enigmatic consideration of the ghosts of colonialism that haunt the present. The provocative doc explores the journey home for these objects and the greater debates that await their homecoming.
The statue narrates Dahomey in poetic voiceover that punctuates observational vignettes of the repatriation process. The artwork speaks in a garbled masked voice that invites comparison to Darth Vader. His musings reflect on the legacy of objectification and exoticism as he watches museum staff carefully package his comrades for the journey home.
Officials in France and Benin both inspect the artifacts and assess their conditions. The gaze in the first act of Dahomey fixes upon these artworks as archivists note their materials, conditions, and significant attributes. These statues and objects are mostly fashioned out of wood and generally well preserved after a century on display for foreign eyes. Diop’s camera respectfully joins this act of looking and gives the audience one last peek at the carved details before the works are reinstalled back home.
26 raises obvious questions of conquest, power, and hegemony as the repatriation leads this intellectual ghost to ponder the bigger implications entailed in the absence of these objects in their homeland. Their return to Benin and display in the royal city of Abomey invites a grand celebration. Officials descend upon the palace to welcome them. Dressed in their best, people from across the land come to see the returned artworks and soak up a part of their heritage.
But only so many people have access to these precious arts. The return sparks heated debate among citizens as Dahomey segues to engaged conversations. Diop observes a students’ town hall at the university where people express their feelings about the return of the artworks. One young woman tells how she wept for 15 minutes in their presence. People snicker when hearing that confession, while others share her sentiment. To some people of Benin, the return of the artworks offers a reclamation of the soul.
For others, the forum serves as an overdue opportunity to confront the enduring legacy of colonialism. One speaker stresses that people in rural areas will have difficulty seeing the art. A respondent asks what good access to art is when people can barely get proper education, food, and other essential services. For other people in crowd, the return proves an insult. With only 26 out of 7,000 works coming home, some people feel that celebrations are premature. The French throwing scraps at the people of Benin evokes colonialism with a smile. For others, the return is welcome, but the restoration of physical culture doesn’t replace the power of intangible culture, like dance, song, and oral storytelling through which the spirit of Dahomey endures in the absence of these works.
26 gets the final word here, as he should. Dahomey takes back the colonial gaze through this disembodied narrator. 26 functions akin to an elevated audio guide on a museum tour as Diop first lets the camera linger on the art and then asks the bigger questions the their display and context represent. 26’s gravelly voice evokes the discontented souls left restless by colonial forces, but he flips the act of spectatorship back upon itself to ask what we’re ultimately considering when marvelling at the beauty of art stolen from one culture to please another.
Dahomey premiered at TIFF 2024.
It opens in theatres in October and is coming soon to MUBI.
Get more coverage from this year’s festival here.
