The master, the rebel, and the artist: the films of ousmane sembèNE, djibril diop mambéTY, and moussa sene absa

THe MAster, The Rebel, and the Artist:

The Films of ousmane sembène, djibril diop mambéty, and moussa sene absa

April 2-10, 2011

Guest curator: June Givanni

Presented in collaboration with the Institute of African Studies, Columbia University

Tableau ferraille

Saturday, April 9, 7:00 p. m.
1997, 92 mins. 35mm print source: California Newsreel. In French and Wolof with English subtitles.

Directed by Moussa Sene Absa. Written by Absa. Produced by Jacques Debs, Alain Rozanès, and Pascal Verroust. Photographed by Bertrand Chatry. Edited by Pascale Chavance.

Principal cast: Ismaël Lô (Daam), Ndèye Fatou Ndaw (Gagnesiri), Thierno Ndiaye (Président).


“Moussa Sene Absa. Tableau Ferraille” by Sada Niang. African Studies Review, April 1999: Vol. 42, No. 1.
To watch Moussa Sene Absa’s Tableau Ferraille is to experience the range of the forces (social, political, pictorial, and musical) that nurtured him as an artist and filmmaker. With its theatrical dialogue, audacious musical scores, scorching social critique, and poetic images, the film achieves a delicate balance between the carefree, grounded style of Djibril Diop Mambety and the caustic Manicheanism of Ousmane Sembene. Tableau Ferraille is first and foremost a tribute to both these poles, but it is also an engaging dialogue on postindependence Africa, through plots, camera takes, instrumentals, pseudoreligious chants, and character depiction.
Like Zan Boko, Yeleen, Mandabi, and Love Brewed in an African Plot, the film exposes the corruption of modern African political life (Senegal in this case), carefully documents the death of nationalist ideals, and depicts the rise of ruthless individualism. It targets both sexes as each plots for increased material gain at the expense of the other, only to end in moral and physical decay through prostitution and alcoholism. By the end of the film, a former Minister of Industrial development roams drunk in the streets of the city, a teenage mother is forced to live off her “wares” and support the addiction of her alcoholic father, a second wife sells the secret files of her husband to the competition, cart drivers are paid to dump imported radioactive material on beaches, and, finally, the whole population lives off the handouts of a sleazy businessman known as “President.” The organizing principle of the plot is revealed midway through the film as Gagnesiri utters the prophetic phrase, “money destroys men,” and subsequently witnesses the demise of her own entourage.
In a contrapuntal stance to Xala, Tableau Ferraille also offers a broader definition of motherhood. Childrearing takes precedence over childbear-ing. Gagnesiri, Daam’s first wife, is blamed for not having given birth, is ostracized because of this condition, yet is the only one who surrounds her-self with children and looks after their well-being. As she becomes pregnant, Kine (the second wife) engages in hazardous activities and scoffs at the suggestions that her behavior should change. Twice in the film, at night and during the day, she is shown leaving Daam and Gagnesiri to care for the children in the house. Moussa Sene also debunks female virginity as a voucher for future social status.
Moussa Sene Absa’s Tableau Ferraille turns the political system into a ghost. It argues that in present African political life, results have taken precedence over processes, personal gratification (sexual, material, and otherwise) over the need of millions of starving Africans living in villages or at the outskirts of congested cities. Civil service is reduced to its external signs of lavish living: the big bright house, the chauffeur driven cars, the Armani suits imported from Malaysia. The status of government minister itself has as its underpinning a lifestyle carried on mostly by wives and much coveted by women with husbands enjoying a lower social standing. Furthermore, in Tableau Ferraille, the state has been shrunk to a distant voice (radio and satiric newspapers) promoting and demoting specific individuals on grounds known to nobody in the community. Indeed, civil society is conspicuously absent: politicians are profusely congratulated on speeches they are never heard making, much less seen preparing; anger has become the preferred mode of resolving arguments between various characters, and the threat of violence is never far. Trade union organizers are sacked without any possibility for redress, policy issues are dismissed and replaced by personal interests, women are shouted into submission and men embarrassed into silence. Men and women either verbally attack or ignore each other altogether.
As the film begins, Gagnesiri ignores the warnings of the cart driver as she enters the cemetery, and rebuffs her husband urging her not to stay too long at her mother’s grave. As she remembers her first encounter with Daam, her memory reaches back to him as a candidate to Parliament ignoring the summons of his campaign manager to “seduce the electors rather than Gagnesiri.” As bidding opens for the construction of the Yolombeen bridge, President and Co. are instructed to stay away from Daam’s house; they make their visit anyway and later are ejected from Daam’s office.
Structurally speaking, Tableau Ferraille presents itself as a series of unheeded warnings or last words returning to haunt the memory of the living. Gagnesiri, whose reminiscences provide the narrative structure of the film, is troubled by her decision to encourage her husband to take a second wife despite the disapproval of her late benefactor, Anta. Daam is unsettled by his succumbing to pressure from his peers, his sexual desires, and the lure of political expediency; Ndoumbe suffers from the absence of her baby’s father as well as the death of her mother. Only one main character stands above this whirlwind of remorse at the end of the film: “President.”

Finally, Tableau Ferraille blends musical styles and colors to offer its viewers experiences reminiscent of Mambety’s Hyenas, Safi Faye’s Mossane, or Sembene’s Guelewaar. In all these films, the ochre colour of the earth alternates with the deep blue of the sea to determine the types of costumes worn by the characters, and in all these films, jazz (Aminata Fall, Yande Codou Sene) coexists with urban and traditional religious tunes. However, the message carried by the lyrics of the songs changes with the plots of the films.

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