‘Dahomey’ Review: Mati Diop Creates a Mesmerizing Artifact of Time Itself | TIFF

How do you tell a story about the return of something precious? About a homecoming? In Dahomey, which won the Golden Bear at the Berlin International Film Festival earlier this year, director Mati Diop documents the return of artifacts from Benin, once known as the kingdom of Dahomey in West Africa, with incredible nuance and depth. The result is a documentary that is both deeply engaging and emotionally affecting, underscoring the never-ending connection between past and present, between history and ourselves.

Dahomey stays far away from the rote tropes of most nonfiction filmmaking and is all the better for it. Diop treats her subjects with the gravity they deserve through intimate shots, quiet moments, and poetic narration. As we watch museum workers in France prepare a statue for its homecoming, we are immediately connected to it. As the artifact is confined to its box, we go in with it, and the screen goes black. The artifact’s thoughts and musings, spoken in Fon, an indigenous language of Benin, fill the soundtrack as it contemplates its return after more than 100 years away. It’s immediately affecting and haunting, lending the film its first feel of an almost spiritual presence that will be present throughout.

We will hear this voice throughout the documentary, and the musings of this artifact lend the film a metaphysical quality, like the spirits of the royalty the artifacts represent are haunting the film. When they return to Benin, shots of empty buildings and nighttime landscapes become almost metaphysical spaces when the narration plays over them. A shot of curtains, billowing into the night sky, feels like the artifacts’ spirits have returned and decided to roam over their homeland, too big to be contained any longer. “I give myself up to this tropical caress, to childhood, a road back to myself,” the narration says over nighttime shots of Benin. These lonely frames, enveloped by the artifact’s narration, have the power to linger in the mind for days, haunting us long after we leave the theater. Diop’s choices throughout the film make it clear that she can make meaning out of the everyday in a way that no other filmmaker can. 

Dahomey doesn’t stop at giving us the perspective of the artifacts themselves and lets us hear from the community they are returning to as well. We hear the details and the history from the museum workers in Benin, condition reports, and dating helping us better understand the objects. There is the community town hall-style conversation amongst young residents of Benin, who have complicated feelings about the return. Some see it as the start of a great return and a change in the right direction, others not so much. “It’s a savage insult,” one person insists, as we learn that only 26 out of 7,000 items have been returned to their homeland. In the hands of a traditional documentarian, this scene could be potentially detrimental, dragging the film. Here, it’s a compelling examination of all the messy reality of an undertaking like this — cutting to each person and capturing their arguments and opinions with respect and genuine empathy. Everyone’s reasoning is right in some way, and it’s a scene that could easily go on for hours without slowing the documentary down.

Amongst the larger-than-life narration and the multifaceted conversations within the community, Diop also makes sure to capture the quiet and intimate moments. We watch folks working to assemble the exhibit and get glimpses into their interactions with the objects. A duo of construction workers take time to look at an intricate throne, and the sense of awe is palpable. It’s a beautiful way to showcase the power and underscore the importance of this homecoming. In another scene, another worker gets some one-on-one time with a statue, gazing upon it thoughtfully, clearly moved and enthralled by it. They are moments that place an emphasis on not just the historical importance of the artifacts returning, but their emotional connection to the people of Benin.

Dahomey is a triumph of documentary filmmaking, an innovative and enthralling film that takes creative pathways to tell its story. The alchemy of the narration, imagery, and nuance of Dahomey create a mood that is spiritual and infinite, connecting the artifacts across time to the people they belong to. Using all three elements to create a cinematic language of connection is a bold and brilliant decision that works wonderfully here. Over the last section of the film, we are shown nighttime scenes of Benin, the people going about their lives, as the narration plays over the soundtrack and puts a final, beautiful emphasis on the connection between the cultural artifacts and the community they are returning to. “I see myself so clearly through you,” the narration says, forging and solidifying the connection between past and present. 

Grade: A

This review is from the 2024 Toronto International Film Festival. MUBI will release Dahomey theatrically in the U.S.

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Alejandra Martinez

Alejandra Martinez is an award-winning writer, film critic, and archivist based in Austin, TX. She is a member of the Austin Film Critics Association. Her writing has been published in multiple outlets including The Austin Chronicle, The Wrap, RogerEbert.com, and Letterboxd Journal.

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