Image credit: © placeinsun
Disclaimer: It is no secret that I am the number the one fan of the Chadian-French writer and film director Mahamat-Saleh Haroun. This man has inspired me to no end. It is therefore perhaps biased that for me, his recent (2008) film Sex, Okra and Salted Butter was my highlight at the Kenya International Film Festival. Having said that, it has received rave reviews, which is an affirmation of my opinion.
Having built a reputation for what I refer to as ‘conscious films’ in a filmography that lists gems such as Bye Bye Africa (1999), Daratt (Dry Season) (2006), Expectations [short film] (2008) and my all-time favourite, Abouna (Our Father) (2002), which is incredibly beautiful and poetic in many ways throughout the story-line and cinematography, this film marks Mahamat-Saleh’s stretching of boundaries with the venture into a new genre of film.
The title which I love, had stirred up much curiosity in me and having seen the film now, I can fully appreciate how it is an accurate reflection of the nature of the film. On face value, the film is about those 3 things, but when you start to tease the layers apart, they are also a representation of the themes explored in the film. Mahamat-Saleh has successfully merged conscious cinema with dishings of satire and comedy, and pulled it off remarkably well. Not having read the synopsis of the film beforehand, the surprise was a wonderful way to discover this.
Sex, Okra and Salted Butter explores issues Africans living in the Diaspora are faced with – in this case through the experience of francophone Africans living in Bordeaux - the need to integrate for survival and the evolution of values, belief-systems, identity and culture, which can be painful when people are afraid to question what they know. What they left behind at home. And tightly cling onto. On the other hand, these very systems (beliefs, values and practices) that we carry with us, give an invaluable grounding when plugged into a foreign system and help us wade our way through when creating a new, unique mental space in a foreign land and holistically, in our lives. In addition, the next generation born in Europe or elsewhere face legitimate issues as they are navigate their parents’/extended family’s world view and that of the society they grow up in. These are addressed through a story that traverses inter-racial relationships, sexuality, the clash between traditions and modernity, inter-generational conflict and reconciliation.
Admittedly, some issues are only subtly touched upon, which is entirely excusable given that the film addresses what it sets out to do well, as opposed to pretending to address the Diasporan experience in its entirety, which is frankly incredibly difficult, if not impossible. For instance, it doesn’t show the blatant racism and alienation as explored in the recent, excellent film Entre Les Murs (The Class) (2008), which is set in a school in a Parisian surburb (Writer & Screen play: François Bégaudeau; Director: Laurent Cantent). Having said that, I find when you read in between the lines, more meaning emerges from Sex, Okra and Salted Butter – both in the title of the film and the content, which I find to be incredibly clever. For instance, it depicts the desire to integrate and be accepted in a society where you would be better off with the name Ludovic instead of Abdou.
I coudn’t have put it better than the following truncated reviews which accurately verbalise my sentiments:
Mahamat-Saleh Haroun’s crisp, lighthearted satire Sex, Gumbo and Salted Butter reflects on the challenges posed by dislocation, estrangement, and cultural assimilation. As in Yameogo’s film, [Me and My White Pal] the comedy of errors in Sex, Gumbo and Salted Butter stems from misperceptions of identity – gender, familial, and racial roles that, rather than upholding culture, ends up distorting it in its rigidity and exclusion.
[Source: Film Fest Journal]
Reminiscent of the Stephen Frears/Hanif Kureishi collaborations of the 1980s, Sex, Okra and Salted Butter offers a marked contrast with Haroun’s earlier features. An ensemble comedy set in France, Haroun’s latest film tells the story of a recently emigrated African family reeling from the mother’s sudden departure with her white lover – merely the fist in a series of shifts that shake the family—and especially its patriarch—to the core. Many of Haroun’s signature preoccupations are in full flower, however – absent parents, revenge versus reconciliation – all seen through his lucid visual style that gives this sharp-edged comedy of manners plenty of space to breathe onscreen.
[Source: Harvard Film Archive]
Not to ruin the film for you, but my favourite lines in the script that had me in stitches were in a quasi-romantic scene (and also the first reference to salted butter):
African man (Malik) (Marius Yelolo): Do you have shea butter?
(for those who don’t know, raw shea butter is widely used in the African community as a moisturiser & massage oil and is available in markets that carry African products)
White French woman (Myriam) (Lorella Cravotta): No. [pause]. But I have salted butter.
Um, you had to be there 
