The Western, pioneered by the likes of Sergio Leone and Sam Peckinpah, is a format which has spawned cinema around the world, with recognisably Western-style filmmaking appearing everywhere, even in the likes of the Convict Scorpion films in Japan during the 70s. However, I think it’s probably fair to say that South Africa isn’t greatly known for Westerns. Given the Western’s emphasis on lawlessness and vigilante justice, though, it’s clear why director Michael Matthews decided to give it a whirl in this setting. That this is his first feature is incredible; the resulting film, Five Fingers for Marseilles, eight years in the making, is a skilled piece of work, if a challenging, weighty experience.
A voiceover explains to us, at the outset, that when the railways came to South Africa, bringing foreigners, a brand-new settlement named Marseilles displaced the native population to a township called Railway, which was permitted to linger only for as long as Marseilles thrived. As a spirit of insurrection at this unfairness begins to pervade the town, particularly the town’s youngsters, a group of five friends begin to consider themselves in an almost mythical way as future folk heroes, weaving themselves into stories about their land and its defence. However, when two corrupt Afrikaner police show up to extort money from the inhabitants of Railway, what at first seems a childish conceit on turns into something far more serious. One of the boys, Tau, commits murder out of one of those classic, tragic misunderstandings where it seems this is the only honourable thing to do.
We are not privy to the immediate aftermath of this situation, but we do know that the ‘lion of Marseilles’, Tau, as an adult, has suffered in the intervening years. He is about to be released from jail, and he has nowhere to go but back to Marseilles and Railway, its inferior satellite town on the hill. But no one knows him anymore; he sees what has become of his old childhood gang, now variously oppressed by new, exciting outsiders in the wake of post-apartheid, and he’s galled to see that the corruption which dogged the town has simply passed hands to the native population, as gangs and bent police each control their share of the streets. As he comes to terms with the butterfly effect which his childhood actions have had on his friends in their adult years, his chief struggle is with himself: is a hero? Can he be? And if so, what are his responsibilities?
All of this is convincingly, and very movingly carried on the shoulders of the lead actor Vuyo Dabula as Tau, a man who displays a staggering gamut of emotions whilst barely saying a word; he oscillates between rare moments of joy and desperation, and it’s a very absorbing performance throughout. But he is ably supported by his old friends, in particular Zeto Dlomo as the gang’s old sweetheart Lerato, now a grown woman desperate for life to improve for her and her ailing father. A devastating musical score pulls on the heartstrings even more, with its long, low incidental notes underscoring the tragedy unfolding on-screen. I do feel that the film plays out as a tragedy in many respects, because for all of the nods to the great Westerns of the past, there’s an overarching dour atmosphere here of impending doom, right from the start, where any expectations we might have for a gang of children on our screens are ultimately taken in a different direction; I don’t think you ever feel that people are going to ride off happily into the sunset. The film looks spectacular, an engaging visual blend of landscape and townscape, myth and reality – with certain characters, such as the ominous gang leader, seeming almost supernatural in some scenes. Commentary on the presence of ‘the land’ as the ultimate arbiter of man’s affairs even leans towards folklore, albeit ultimately played out in gritty, hard-hitting and realist fashion. It’s also interesting to get a film which plays out in a variety of different languages: English is a lingua franca, but the characters code-switch throughout, using Sotho and Xhosa in turn, too. This helps to ground the action in its setting, as well as bringing native languages to the fore, as spoken by the people who live in these areas.
Five Fingers for Marseilles is in no respects an easy or a comfortable watch. It is selective about showing us violence, but it successfully engineers the sensation that hell is about to break loose at any point, whilst making us care about the lives which are at stake in this corner of the world. In this respect is it a slow, solemn and affecting experience, meticulously put together and acted throughout. This is a solemn, very sombre film which rewards the attention it inevitably demands. Whilst not a film you would pop back on for a re-watch at any point soon after an initial watch, it is nonetheless recommended for anyone seeking careful exposition and atmosphere from a bleak human drama. But be warned: this brooding film packs a punch.
Five Fingers for Marseilles will be appearing in cinemas this September.