When will we finally find the time to come to terms with colonialism and talk about the atrocities that occurred?

When will we finally find the time to come to terms with colonialism and talk about the atrocities that occurred?

“Go to your local museums, and learn about yourself, learn about ourselves, learn about our history. Strengthen yourself. Love yourself in that way.“

Simple but effective. A lot to think about here. Great watch 👏👏

“Go to your local museums, and learn about yourself, learn about ourselves, learn about our history. Strengthen yourself. Love yourself in that way.“

Simple but effective. A lot to think about here. Great watch 👏👏

the history of the world is defined by colonialism. the entirety of Africa, North America, South America, Australia, New Zealand, most of Asia. whether it's indigenous genocide or exploitation of the land and its resources or the oppression that lasts to this day.

but on top of all that, these people have been forced to forget about their own history. their culture only survives in fragments. just thinking about all those people getting exposed to their own history for the first time, the artifacts that were so important to their ancestors now reduced to foreign objects, it makes me very sad.

the fact that this only happened as a form of political performance also makes me angry. and so does the nonchalant indifference of the people involved in the process. not to place blame on the fucking museum staff but just to point out how the passage of time has made these artifacts lose significance for people on both sides. it is a step in the right direction for sure, but how much does this really mean to the regular African people in the face of everything else that has happened and is happening in their world right now?

i love how this film just lets you sit and think. it's quite powerful. but the moments of narration also carry a lot of power. how the statue doesn't recognize its own home. how it has been moved from one darkness to another.

the history of the world is defined by colonialism. the entirety of Africa, North America, South America, Australia, New Zealand, most of Asia. whether it's indigenous genocide or exploitation of the land and its resources or the oppression that lasts to this day.

but on top of all that, these people have been forced to forget about their own history. their culture only survives in fragments. just thinking about all those people getting exposed to their own history for the first time, the artifacts that were so important to their ancestors now reduced to foreign objects, it makes me very sad.

the fact that this only happened as a form of political performance also makes me angry. and so does the nonchalant indifference of the people involved in the process. not to place blame on the fucking museum staff but just to point out how the passage of time has made these artifacts lose significance for people on both sides. it is a step in the right direction for sure, but how much does this really mean to the regular African people in the face of everything else that has happened and is happening in their world right now?

i love how this film just lets you sit and think. it's quite powerful. but the moments of narration also carry a lot of power. how the statue doesn't recognize its own home. how it has been moved from one darkness to another.

The visuals! The visuals! The visuals! and the disembodied voice of statue 26.

The visuals! The visuals! The visuals! and the disembodied voice of statue 26.

Diop follows up Atlantics with an experimental documentary (the exact type of film my professor for the class I saw this for won't shut up about) about the return of artifacts that French colonizers stole from Benin, mixing fly-on-the-wall footage with a more artistic presentation. We switch between slow cinema-like footage of the preparation of the artifacts, and voiceover from the point of view of the artifact itself--an artistic choice that threw me off at first, and I can imagine it alienating many viewers, but it serves to examine how there is an entire history and culture behind an inanimate object, and does so in a hauntingly beautiful way. Many of the voiceover moments are accompanied by a black screen and some gorgeous electronic music, adding an intoxicating atmosphere that makes the artifact's journey feel very intimate yet massive. For me the highlight of the doc has to be the last 20 minutes, in which activists and scholars debate each other over whether these artifacts should be brought to the sites of worship they were meant for or if they belong in a museum, and whether it is sufficient for the French government to just return these 26 artifacts to Benin--that is out of 7,000, which just goes to show the horrible lengths that French colonizers went to steal Dahomey culture, and that this return is an inch forward at best. The film does not take an instant judgment on either side of these debates, letting us listen to all these voices before coming to our own conclusion--yet it shows an empathy and understanding for the more fervent anti-colonial voices we hear that prevents this from succumbing to toothless both-sides-ism. The final image of the King Ghezo statue in the museum, rather than being a celebratory image of visitors gazing at it with curiosity and amazement, is an ambiguous one that shows the statue alone in the gallery as it closes, wondering if it will ever find its place. I can see why this won at Berlin last year, since it's an important, and often quite remarkable doc whose message will unfortunately stay relevant until all colonized people finally get their culture back, if ever. Just do not go in expecting a more conventional talking-heads-and-narration doc, since this is just as much an art piece as a nonfiction film.

Diop follows up Atlantics with an experimental documentary (the exact type of film my professor for the class I saw this for won't shut up about) about the return of artifacts that French colonizers stole from Benin, mixing fly-on-the-wall footage with a more artistic presentation. We switch between slow cinema-like footage of the preparation of the artifacts, and voiceover from the point of view of the artifact itself--an artistic choice that threw me off at first, and I can imagine it alienating many viewers, but it serves to examine how there is an entire history and culture behind an inanimate object, and does so in a hauntingly beautiful way. Many of the voiceover moments are accompanied by a black screen and some gorgeous electronic music, adding an intoxicating atmosphere that makes the artifact's journey feel very intimate yet massive. For me the highlight of the doc has to be the last 20 minutes, in which activists and scholars debate each other over whether these artifacts should be brought to the sites of worship they were meant for or if they belong in a museum, and whether it is sufficient for the French government to just return these 26 artifacts to Benin--that is out of 7,000, which just goes to show the horrible lengths that French colonizers went to steal Dahomey culture, and that this return is an inch forward at best. The film does not take an instant judgment on either side of these debates, letting us listen to all these voices before coming to our own conclusion--yet it shows an empathy and understanding for the more fervent anti-colonial voices we hear that prevents this from succumbing to toothless both-sides-ism. The final image of the King Ghezo statue in the museum, rather than being a celebratory image of visitors gazing at it with curiosity and amazement, is an ambiguous one that shows the statue alone in the gallery as it closes, wondering if it will ever find its place. I can see why this won at Berlin last year, since it's an important, and often quite remarkable doc whose message will unfortunately stay relevant until all colonized people finally get their culture back, if ever. Just do not go in expecting a more conventional talking-heads-and-narration doc, since this is just as much an art piece as a nonfiction film.