Something that you learn when expanding your horizons is that you can often open doors to some of the most extraordinary art. The global interest in films from beyond Europe and North America has gradually improved, and we’ve seen some truly exceptional works from around the world being widely celebrated, many of them formative texts that go back nearly a century into the past, to the very genesis of modern cinema. Unfortunately, African cinema has always been lagging behind when it comes to such appraisals, with far fewer films from the continent being played on a global stage in comparison to those from Asia and South America. This sadly prevents some incredible gems from being widely appreciated, but also gives us the opportunity to undergo the process of discovering these works, which are usually helped along by a gradually improving sense of awareness of films produced across the continent, with more distribution allowing several of these films to gain viewers. This brings us to the topic of today’s discussion, a film that I feel best exemplifies precisely why African cinema is not only in dire need of attention, but also outright celebration. Saloum is, without any hesitation, one of the year’s best films. A darkly twisted parable that tells the story of a trio of dangerous arms dealers finding refuge off the beaten track, only to be confronted by unexpected occurrences, is formed from the mind of Jean Luc Herbulot, who proves himself to be an essential voice in contemporary world cinema and a fierce advocate for African stories, weaving together a film of incredible artistic and cultural virtue, and a work of unimpeachable artistic integrity – and one that is quite honestly unlike anything we have seen before, or are likely to ever see again.

Saloum is the type of film that is entirely impossible to describe in coherent terms, mainly because it has several moving parts. Most of what has been written about the film has referred to how it combines numerous different genres – and it’s difficult to recall the last time we had a film that was so insistent on interlacing so many styles of storytelling into the final product, to the point where the entire film is most notable for its intertwining narrative and the various fragments of classic genres that form the foundation for the film. We initially believe that we are getting an energetic heist drama about a trio of guerilla soldiers fleeing from the authorities, peppered with healthy doses of the kind of eccentric, off-the-wall dark humour we often find in these kinds of stories. It then begins to grow more complex, with the sense of foreboding danger placing us in a state where we are anticipating some degree of psychological thriller, until eventually devolving into one of the most deranged and outright terrifying horror films of recent years. Saloum is not a film driven by a coherent thread, whether narratively or in terms of its execution, but rather a series of jagged moments that co-exist, converging together into a wildly inventive amalgamation of genres, each one carefully developed by the director (rather than just having broad overtures that supplement the overall experience), whose artistic vision was about crafting something never seen before on the African continent, and giving us an experience that is both resonant to those who are familiar with the cultural nuances of the story (and a working knowledge of the historical aspect of the film is helpful, but not mandatory), and insightful to those who may be encountering these concepts for the first time, making Saloum a film that is both wildly entertaining and deeply informative – granted we can endure the chaotic horrors contained within the story.

Considering the weaving together of different genres, we can naturally start to look beneath the surface, questioning the construction of the film and what precisely inspired Herbulot to put it together in such a way. A slight knowledge of African culture will tell you that this is a continent built on oral traditions – some of the most important and iconic parables are derived from African mythology, which has made a far broader impact abroad than many may imagine. The concept of simply telling stories and passing them between generations is interwoven into the fabric of Saloum, which may be a film drawn together by innumerable genres, but ultimately all leads back to the importance of storytelling as not only a means of entertainment, but of cultural enrichment, preserving the history through tales that are passed down between generations, many of which pander to the inherent fears that live within all of us. The director constructs Saloum as a folk tale, a voyage into another world, one that is not governed by any known logic or sense of reason, but instead propelled by a maniacal energy that manifests in some of the most terrifying imagery we are likely to see. It’s not surprising that the majority of horror films made in Africa are derived from our mythology and folklore – there’s something so beautifully unnerving about a film so dedicated to striking the most psychological and visceral aspects of a culture, and crafting an unhinged horror around fears that many of us may not have even know reside within us. This adds nuance and contextual detail to a film that was clearly striving to be far more than just the sum of its parts, going in pursuit of a deeper kind of cultural commentary that is both ingrained within the past, and very much pertinent to modern issues, the exact details being subject to interpretation.

The film we expect is not necessarily the one that we end up getting by the end, and if this is not the most resounding credit to the undeniable originality of Saloum, then absolutely nothing else can be even vaguely convincing. Narratively, the film has many fascinating ideas, but they are only as effective as their execution, which is the second component that makes this film so intriguing. Herbulot has a fascinating directorial perspective, one that is inspired equally by his own upbringing in Central Africa, and as someone whose keen observations about art led him to become a formidable figure in contemporary filmmaking. Stylistically, Saloum is as much of a marvel as it is conceptually, and the director’s ability to achieve unrestrained terror through the use of imagery and tone is absolutely remarkable. This is not a film that relies on excess – everything is constructed as simply as possible, with very little space for elaborate effects or unnecessary deviations from the heart of the story, which is initially what misleads us into thinking it is going to be a gritty crime drama driven by a kind of stark social realism, rather than the emotional barrage that it would soon reveal itself to be in due course. Saloum is a film that relies on the element of surprise, and considering we can predict absolutely nothing about this film (especially if we go in completely blind), it goes without saying that this intention was achieved with flying colours, each moment building on the last to become a tapestry of unrestricted horror, the kind that will unsettle even the most desensitized of viewers, and which firmly establishes Saloum as a film that is gradually going to take on the status of a work of incredible complexity in a genre that has become somewhat placid to how it addresses certain issues, as well as cultural perspectives.

If there was ever a reason to immediately leap over and interact with African cinema, Saloum is the perfect example. There is a wealth of astonishing works patiently waiting to be discovered, and while it may not be to everyone’s taste in terms of subject matter or directorial approach, it feels inappropriate to even begin to question the artistic integrity that is embedded deeply within this film. This is not a traditional entry into any of the genres that it so boldly traverses, and manages to find ways to subvert each and every one of them, both individually and in comparison to the others, which creates a disorienting but compelling journey through a world occurring at the perfect intersection between reality and fiction, one that is driven by a series of well-placed ambiguities that emerge through the constant interaction between ambitious ideas. In no uncertain terms, Saloum is a film that simply has to be experienced firsthand to be fully comprehended, since this is not a work that functions well in theory, considering how much of it depends on the collision between the story and its visual manifestation. There are an abundance of reasons that we can find that points toward the brilliance of this film – the forthright artistic integrity, the willingness to take risks (knowing that faithful viewers will see it through to the end), and the genuine belief in the poignancy and impact of the story being told. More than anything else, Saloum provides an urgent entry into a canon of African films that break away from tradition and refuse to adhere to a familiar formula, instead choosing to experiment with the form and content. It may sometimes feel impenetrable, and we may need to work slightly harder as viewers to keep abreast of the rapid-fire changes that take place throughout the film, but it is ultimately all worth the effort, since the final product is quite simply a staggering piece of cinema that feels both revolutionary and self-assured, a combination increasingly rare to find on a continent that has been far too overlooked as the source of some truly brilliant films.