Review: Timbuktu

I trust Abderrahmane Sissako, director of this powerful plea for sanity, will forgive us if we start with a facetious reference, because, in the early scenes of Timbuktu, it is hard not to be reminded of a gag from one of Woody Allen's early, funny films. Islamic fundamentalists have taken over the Malian city and are pressing home a series of rigid cultural restrictions. Football is banned. Music is forbidden. In one particularly absurd moment, the bullies insist that, as instructed, an older man roll up the legs of his trousers. One thinks of the dictator in Allen's Bananas who demanded that underpants now be worn on the outside. It is part of this film's singular power that it manages to slip from conscious absurdity to appalling atrocity with such confidence.

The picture hangs around a family – Kidane (Ibrahim Ahmed), Satima (Toulou Kiki) and their daughter – who, living just outside the city, are drawn into the madness following an accidental tragedy. Perhaps their life is a little too idealised: playing guitar in their tent while musing mildly on life. But this is a determinedly accessible film that, for all its terrors, never drags or seems worthy.

From the beginning, we are made aware of the fundamentalists’ hypocrisy. They claim to shun all western corruption, but remain addicted to their mobile phones, and use the language of Madison Avenue when making their propaganda videos. The absurdity of their philosophy is elegantly expressed when a group of local boys play a complex game of football without a ball.

Timbuktu turns on its axis following the death of Kidane's ox and his clumsy attempts to exact retribution. Hitherto composed largely of static mid-shots, the film suddenly admits one very long, very beautiful long-shot of our hero walking steadily across a gloomy, silty river. We are clearly moving from satire to tragedy.

What we end up with is a film that adeptly meshes political anger with strong traditional narratives. Sofian El Fani’s cinematography is luminous. The music is uplifting. But the message ultimately is dire.