Le Franc (1994) & The Little Girl Who Sold The Sun (1999) are the first two entries in late Senegalese director Mambéty's whimsical yet very socially relevant trilogy of films titled "Tales of Ordinary People". What a great loss, then, that the aeuteur's inopportune death in 1998 meant that they were also the only two entries in an unfortunately unfinished trilogy.
Both films are relatively short feature films, clocking in at about 45 minutes each. Similar in their inspiring messages, light satirical approach, and allegorically important commentary, there is little doubt that the planned third and final installment would have followed in the same vein and been as successful.
Like the director's feature films, they include impressive performances by non professional actors and actresses, and the parables are accompanied by catchy, engaging soundtracks that exhibit the culturally unique sounds of African music. Le Franc in particular makes good use of the congoma, a little known unique looking instrument most similar to a guitar. Not to be outdone, The Little Girl Who Sold The Sun features an irresistible scene with our young heroine wearing adorable yellow plastic sunglasses, grooving and singing along to a radio tune that the local street children pay a boy in a wheelchair to play for them. Indeed, there are several parts in these films that could easily be confused for quality music videos!
The most notable shortcoming is the length of these films, leaving much to audience imagination and not having quite enough time to fully develop character arcs. There is also a slight disconnect in their presentation as both mini fairy tales and as allegories that should convey cultural, social, and political commentary. In Le Franc, the protagonist's decisions are foolish, frustrating, and difficult to believe. In The Little Girl Who Sold The Sun, the protagonist is a zesty combination of Helen Keller's perseverance in the face of disability and marginalization, Mother Teresa's charitable ways, and Pollyanna's undeterrable optimism. While the former short film is more comical in its little-guy-who-overcomes-the-odds-in-the-name-of-music tale, the latter is more inspirational in its little-girl-who-overcomes-the-bigger-boys-despite-her-handicap tale. The narrative would have been more effective if it came across as more plausible and sincere. One example of this unrealistic storytelling is showing a sexist police sergeant accusing her of theft with nothing to go on but what he sees with one glance- namely her disability and gender- followed by the police captain immediately taking her side when she reaches the station, even going so far as to release another woman being held there, simply because she tells him that she was also falsely accused. Fine for a fairy tale, but in real life things don't go from wrong to right that magically.
All in all, two great humanist films well worth the time, even if only to be introduced to some melodiously unique songs!
Both films are relatively short feature films, clocking in at about 45 minutes each. Similar in their inspiring messages, light satirical approach, and allegorically important commentary, there is little doubt that the planned third and final installment would have followed in the same vein and been as successful.
Like the director's feature films, they include impressive performances by non professional actors and actresses, and the parables are accompanied by catchy, engaging soundtracks that exhibit the culturally unique sounds of African music. Le Franc in particular makes good use of the congoma, a little known unique looking instrument most similar to a guitar. Not to be outdone, The Little Girl Who Sold The Sun features an irresistible scene with our young heroine wearing adorable yellow plastic sunglasses, grooving and singing along to a radio tune that the local street children pay a boy in a wheelchair to play for them. Indeed, there are several parts in these films that could easily be confused for quality music videos!
The most notable shortcoming is the length of these films, leaving much to audience imagination and not having quite enough time to fully develop character arcs. There is also a slight disconnect in their presentation as both mini fairy tales and as allegories that should convey cultural, social, and political commentary. In Le Franc, the protagonist's decisions are foolish, frustrating, and difficult to believe. In The Little Girl Who Sold The Sun, the protagonist is a zesty combination of Helen Keller's perseverance in the face of disability and marginalization, Mother Teresa's charitable ways, and Pollyanna's undeterrable optimism. While the former short film is more comical in its little-guy-who-overcomes-the-odds-in-the-name-of-music tale, the latter is more inspirational in its little-girl-who-overcomes-the-bigger-boys-despite-her-handicap tale. The narrative would have been more effective if it came across as more plausible and sincere. One example of this unrealistic storytelling is showing a sexist police sergeant accusing her of theft with nothing to go on but what he sees with one glance- namely her disability and gender- followed by the police captain immediately taking her side when she reaches the station, even going so far as to release another woman being held there, simply because she tells him that she was also falsely accused. Fine for a fairy tale, but in real life things don't go from wrong to right that magically.
All in all, two great humanist films well worth the time, even if only to be introduced to some melodiously unique songs!