Lingui (Mahamat-Saleh Haroun, 2021) (Patreon)

Chad's leading auteur -- perhaps the country's only regularly working director -- has never been known for his subtlety. Haroun has a particular m.o., which is focusing on small groups, usually a family, in order to observe their interpersonal dynamics in the midst of a much larger sociopolitical problem. This has included such topics as revenge killings (Dry Season), the Chadian civil war (A Screaming Man), and the plight of immigrants sans papiers (A Season in France). In the case of Lingui, Haroun is considering the criminalization of abortion in Chad, in particular the way that Islam is used as a means for men to exercise their dominion over women. (Abortion law is actually quite variable among Muslim countries, with scholars and imams disagreeing about whether or not the Qu'ran proscribes the termination of pregnancy.)

But as I've remarked at various points, subtlety, while not exactly overrated, is but one benchmark for artistic achievement. A lot of African cinema operates in a more didactic mode, reflecting a combination of Brecht-influenced leftist aesthetics and the traditional storytelling role of the griot. Haroun's work has indicated a strong influence of Ousmane Sembène, whose final film Moolaadé (2004) Lingui resembles in some respects. Although Haroun's main topic is abortion, the subject of female genital mutilation is also broached, making it clear that the two issues are connected by patriarchal assumptions wrapped in the cloak of Islamic law. This is a rather bold stance for Haroun to take, since there is certainly not the global consensus regarding abortion that there is about FGM.

Amina (Achouackh Abakar Souleymane) and her daughter Maria (Rihane Khalil Alio) live on the outskirts of N'Djamena. In the opening sequence, we see Amina arduously removing the steel belting from an old tire. We learn that she straightens these rods and weaves them into intricate hourglass-shapes baskets that are used for cooking on an open flame. She has to make her own way because she gave birth to Maria out of wedlock, having been abandoned by the girl's father. Amina's family threw her out, and she is regarded with suspicion in the neighborhood. Upon learning that Maria is now pregnant at age 15, she is horrified that the cycle is repeating. Maria, for her part, is unequivocal. She wants an abortion, despite its illegality.

Part of Haroun's strategy involves holding back Maria's rationale for wanting to end her pregnancy. The film outlines no extenuating circumstances, essentially declaring that any woman should have the right to abortion simply because they do not want to have a child. As you might expect, most of Lingui consists of Amina and Maria discovering an underground network of doctors, midwives, and OBGYNs who are willing to perform the procedure despite the risk. I have no doubt that the familiarity of this story (Vera Drake, Happening, the upcoming Call Jane) contributed to the lukewarm reception Lingui received at Cannes last year.

But it does seem strange that so few critics have mentioned just how vibrant and well-constructed Lingui is. I'm sure part of this has to do with Haroun's production budget, which appears to be his largest to date. But he has simply gotten much better at directing. His earlier work like Abouna and Dry Season was largely characterized by static two-shots and a flat, unobtrusive mise-en-scène. By contrast, Lingui is a film of luminous color and careful composition. I assume Haorun shot on digital, and the calibrations achieved by French cinematographer Mathieu Giombini are remarkable for their attention to the various shades of Black skin and the actors' bodies contrast with their brightly dyed clothing. There is also an impressive use of tracking shots, mobile camerawork, and a generally freer dispensation of cinematic space.

I understand that Haroun's predictable approach is not for everyone. His films seldom surprise us with unexpected depth of character or intricate plotting. But if we allow for didactic cinema, not just as a cultural difference but an aesthetic one, Lingui is a very fine example of such a project. I was reluctant to watch this film because Haroun's work has always struck me as theoretically admirable but not very compelling to engage with. Unlike so many auteurs at this stage in their careers, Haroun has honed his craft, and as a result Lingui's tactile richness more than helps the "medicine" go down.

(ANAL RETENTIVE TITLE CORNER™ (copyright Mike D'Angelo): The phrase The Sacred Bonds appears in the subtitles only, and it seems to just be an English translation of the title Lingui, which is the only title onscreen.)