“So I grew up completely unaware that my heritage, my culture, my education, my life and my soul had remained abroad for centuries.”
Mati Diop’s feature-length documentary, “Dahomey,” is full of quotes like the previous one. The film shows the return of 26 royal treasures from the Kingdom of Dahomey, established in the 17th century. In late 2021, the artifacts were transported from museums in Paris to their place of origin, the Republic of Benin. “Dahomey” is a film about coming to terms with history that has been forever altered by colonialism. French troops originally seized the artifacts after war broke out between them and the Kingdom of Dahomey, in 1892. Like most colonial bodies, France inflicted physical and cultural violence against the people of Dahomey, robbing them of their history to Adding insult to injury. The current state of Africa has been largely shaped by European interference, from language and education to the state of its cultural institutions.
Like his first narrative feature, “Atlantics,” “Dahomey” blurs the line between life and death. By giving voice to one of the returned artifacts, Diop gives the documentary the feel of a ghost story. The artifact, known only as 26, is a statue carved from wood and metal that observes its own journey from France back to its homeland in Benin. His voice is low and hoarse, reflecting his age and hidden wisdom. At some points, Diop shoots from the 26’s perspective. When he’s packed in a box, we’re there with him, watching the light disappear. We are transported from France to Benin with 26, who go from being transported by white, French museum workers to being held by their only people, dark-skinned and beautiful. We, as 26, feel calmer in Benin, knowing that a mistake has finally been corrected.
But then comes discussion and debate among the community as they struggle with the hole that the loss of their history had created for centuries. “Dahomey” is most compelling when simply observing the process of acceptance and evaluation of reparations, while knowing that there is still a long way to go. Thousands more artifacts remain in France, with no guarantee of when they will return to their homeland. Some people are full of optimism while others feel that the damage is permanent and that their identities are forever linked to the people who tried to conquer them. Diop’s camera does not judge the conversation, but prefers to observe it lovingly, encouraging dialogue on and off screen. While it does not fully chronicle the long process of recovering the artifacts, the people deeply feel their journey, and watching them highlights the pain of what has been lost to them. History and self are inherently connected and both inform the other. To confront historical injustice is to confront the often fractured nature of identity, with all the pieces scattered around the world, often in the path of war. The people of Benin have only just begun a long process of redefining who they are now in the world.
With its meager running time of 68 minutes, “Dahomey” seems too short. Once the film hits its stride, the conversations are so interesting that you wish they would continue for much longer. Being black anywhere in the world means constantly discussing and renegotiating the details of history. The boot of imperialism has left its mark on all of us and the greatest defense we have against it is to continue talking about it. Progress is not as simple as getting our things back; It is also about recognizing and refusing to excuse cultural violence that seeks to erase history and create society in the image of oppressors. Diop uses “Dahomey” as a form of cinematic activism, using the medium to force us to look closely at the past and create a better future for oppressed peoples around the world. Beautiful, melancholic and intellectually stimulating, “Dahomey” is a documentary that everyone should see.
This review was submitted from the New York Film Festival. It opens on October 25.