The opening scenes of director’s Michael Matthews “Five Fingers for Marseilles” — which premiered in the Discovery section of this year’s edition of Toronto International Film Festival, and is now screening at Fantastic Fest — already pay homage to the genre he hopes to breathe new life into. With dazzling wide-open shots, Matthews brings the spaghetti western to South Africa, all the while examining issues of apartheid and colonialism through the native people’s lenses.
The “Five Fingers” are five local boys — plus a sixth member, a girl swiftly ignored in the group’s title — who live in Marseilles, a poverty-stricken and isolated village in the Eastern part of South Africa. Dominated by colonialist rule, Marseilles and its citizens live under State oppression, represented here by white soldiers and their beige uniforms, introduced by an ominous and not-at-all-subtle music score. Some of the soldiers seem as old as The Five Fingers themselves, and the sides are already pitted against one another in an uneven battle.
After an attempt to resist government brutality turns violent, Tau (initially played by Toka Mtabane) makes a decision that deeply impacts his community. Foreseeing what’s to come, he decides to flee into self-exile, leading a life of robberies and spending time in prison before returning, twenty years later, to the only place he knows. What has changed?
Tau (now played by Vuyo Dabula), for one, seems to be a completely different man. His once impetuous and feisty nature has given room to a man constantly attempting to suppress his own self. Dabula successfully lends his magnetism and presence to the character and has the strongest presence on the screen. He hopes to lead a low-key and quiet life — now that the regime has changed — but will he be able to do it? If during the film’s nearly 20-minute prologue, heroes and villains were clear to differentiate, Tau returns to a reality that lacks such clear-cut limits.
He makes his grand entrance at the local bar, which remains the only outlet of escapism and communal entertainment in the town. Honoring the genre’s traditions, it also seems to be the place where all brawls and troubles begin. It oozes despair and desolation, and with doors that resemble a church entrance, they highlight its central role to the community. Like a new sheriff that could bring order to a troubled town, Tau gradually reconnects with the people of his past, who regard him both as a savior and a foe.
Tau soon realizes Marseilles does business as usual, with a previously corrupt system merely replaced by a new and just-as-corrupt one, but now has some of the people he knows at its core. Apartheid may be gone, but the consequences of colonialism are still very much present, and no true change can take place as long as structures remain the same. Tau has no interest in being a hero, and what ensues is both a clash with the new codes of conduct but also with his own self, one that Dabula plays very well. Should he accept the role and expectations people have of him? Can he suppress his true nature?
Shootouts, group confrontations, and destruction are all here; the standard ways of resolving conflicts that are quintessential to the genre. The power of the environment is strongly featured by cinematographer Shaun Lee‘s work, transforming nature into a stand-alone character and adding believability to the story. By successfully managing to isolate Marseilles from its surroundings, it’s easy to believe not much has changed since Tau left for it the first time.
However, while screenwriter Sean Drummond does a good job at creating a multi-faceted world, some of the characters still feel blatantly cartoonish. Think of The Ghost (Hamilton Dhlamini), the leader of the Night Runners, a militia-like group that terrorizes the area. We’re first introduced to him by the sound of ominous drums and a score that leaves little to wonder about his character. The Ghost has golden teeth, a villainous laugh, and an evil eye — all at once — making 007’s Jaws look like your Average Joe. When put alongside Tau, what’s left are clichèd archetypes, erasing all previous work of building complex realities.
But the final result is a piece that shows the western genre can live well in today’s world. By successfully integrating local elements, Matthews proves he has an interesting and worthy story to tell, all the while giving us a leading man that leaves us wondering what else is in store for him. [B+]