This French-Mauritanian film is an early contender for the best film of 2015, and is an absolute must-watch... though you may have to wait for the video release.
Kidane (Ibrahim Ahmed) is a cattle herder who lives outside the city of Timbuktu in Mali, when insurgents from ISIS take over. This is the general premise of the movie, but more than that, it's a portrait of life under dogmatic oppression. There's a wide variety of characters in the movie, and though some are more prominent than others, all are important. Each character moment, each humanizing touch, each act of oppression, each act of defiance-they're all just one element of the scene painted by Timbuktu. Ultimately, however, Kidane is the one we spend the most time with and get to know the best. We learn he's a musician, a husband, and a father. Though he lives away from Timbuktu, Timbuktu doesn't stay away from him. Insurgents occasionally drive over to his camp to check on his family, though they don't attempt to impose themselves on the herders.
The rest of the cast lives within Timbuktu, and they have far smaller roles. In each of them we see a different relationship with the occupiers. One woman refuses to wear gloves, because it will make it more difficult for her to do her job. Another is seen enjoying a comparatively relaxed lifestyle despite the men with guns who roam the street. An early scene has militants being asked to leave a mosque, and this echoes one lesser idea that reverberates through the film: Although the ISIS militants are pious and claim to live by Sharia law, they're lacking the heart of Islam. This is also shown in later scenes with one relatively prominent character, a Muslim figure of authority who reprimands members of the insurgent group for their more barbaric actions, like forcing a marriage and murdering in the name of Jihad. This is an interesting character, because he is one of a few figures that makes it very clear that the Islam which ISIS practices isn't necessarily representative of all Islam.
It's not a humourless affair, however. Aside from the sweet moments with Kidane and his family, there's humour to be found in the film. One prominent example is the name of one of Kidane's cows: GPS, as in the global positioning system. This isn't the only reference to modern technology: Many characters have a mobile phone, and while these phones aren't the latest and greatest technology that many Westerners would have, they're as powerful a symbol of the modern world as the vehicles and guns possessed by the insurgents. Timbuktu is interested in contrast: Contrast between the modern world and the ancient dogma followed by ISIS is one example, and another is contrast between the brutal regime in the city and the relative peace of Kidane's life. Eventually, the two converge, resulting in the film's climax and most powerful moments.
As much as the people living under oppression are humanized, some of the insurgents are as well. The film doesn't fall into the trap of demonizing its oppressors, and while Timbuktu is definitely a condemnation, it doesn't treat the major insurgent characters as less than human. Some scenes show ISIS members being sympathetic for Kidane and his family, while others show them talking about trivial things, like football (that is, soccer). The latter scene is also an example of the hypocrisy of the oppressors in the film, who have banned everything from adultery to music, including football. In spite of this, the people of the town refuse to let their spirits be crushed, as one scene shows a group of people playing soccer with an imaginary ball. They will not be defeated.
Just about every performance is absolutely brilliant. Few characters speak English in the movie, but emotion transcends language. Nobody speaks too loudly, but when the time is right, each performance gives the already deep script an even greater level of nuance just through the actor's inflection. For example, one scene has tears running down a character's cheeks, but his voice is strong and steady. This doubles the gravitas of that scene, and while I don't want to spoil the story by explaining further, anyone who's watched will understand when it is.
One of the most striking things about Timbuktu is the absolutely gorgeous cinematography, courtesy of Sofian El Fani. The desert's natural beauty is communicated through wide shots that communicate the vastness of the sandy landscape, and all the longest shots possess the stark beauty of a nature painting. The most stunning are the shots of the desert's sparse vegetation and the orange-tinted views of the river at sundown. In fact, it's in one wide-shot of the river that one of the film's most memorable and devastating moments occurs. Director Abderrahmane Sissako occasionally has the camera linger for a while, but never is the shot wasted. That pregnant pause may provide buildup, or hammer home the poignancy of an event. It's the kind of brilliant direction that wrings emotion out of the simplest things.
Timbuktu is the kind of film that is so powerful, so brilliant, so good that its greatness is hard to convey after one watch. The film was nominated for Best Foreign Language Film at last year's Academy Awards, though many North American audiences had to wait until after the ceremony to watch it. It's worth the wait, however: Amongst the North American film releases of 2015, Timbuktu reigns supreme.
10/10
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