Following in the Footsteps of Senegalese Migrant Cinema
The Atlantic Ocean in Mati Diop’s Atlantics (2019) transgresses as a mere geographical entity. It functions as a haunting presence and mediates the complex interplay of perspectives. The perspective includes human character, non-human forces, and the shadow of colonial history. Although the narrative revolves around the tragic fate of exploited Senegalese youth in Dakar, they embark on a dangerous sea journey and are driven by desperation for better opportunities. Eventually, they surrendered to the unforgiving sea. However, the film’s focus is not solely on the migration narrative. Instead, it turns to women who were abandoned and who became vessels for the spirits of drowned men seeking vengeance against their exploitative masters. More specifically, the film centers on Ada’s coming-of-age story and her love affair with Souleiman. Souleiman perished at sea. However, he returns in a spectral form that inhabits the body of a local police officer.
Against the backdrop of workers’ repression and the loss of many young lives, Diop employs many film interludes. Strategically, the interlude positions the Atlantic as a metaphysical or supernatural force itself. The spiritual power of the ocean is realized through the film’s involvement with supernatural possessions. Drowning people become spectral agents to the point of taking over living bodies to achieve justice in the material world.
Diop’s films reflect the established tradition of Senegalese migrant cinema. Her predecessor was her film uncle, Djibril Diop Mambéty. His 1973 film, Touki Bouki, is seen as an important film that initiated the reimagination of geography. Such a new concept challenges the previous focus on migration to France as the main narrative. Manthia Diawara categorizes Mambéty’s films in the didactic fiction genre of African cinema. Often, the films present a stark moral binary with the quest to the West symbolically representing alienation and the return to the source signifying the path to completion. In Atlantics, the ocean embodies the symbolic quest paradoxically. It is a place of alienation and death. However, it is also a major source of life and a reminder of the neocolonial divisions created by the Transatlantic slave trade. Therefore, water becomes a symbol that shows a complex internal view of the transnational external world. As Allan Sekula and Noël Burch argue, the sea remains an important site for understanding globalization. Elsewhere, the disorientation, violence, and alienation of contemporary capitalism are most clearly revealed.
Extensively, the film’s engagement with the ocean has been analyzed by scholars. It will contribute to the ongoing conversation by focusing on cinema’s historical connection to the sea’s ability to cause disorientation, generate violence, and foster alienation. Haunted by historical narratives of drowned people, the ocean creates a form of living death for those lost at sea. Formally, the concept has implications for their subsequent supernatural possession. The ghostly palimpsests (a reference to the layered writing) were recognized by Diop himself. Born in Paris and having acted in French films before becoming a director, she draws historical stories about drowning people when discussing the film’s influence and the specific meanings Senegalese audiences attribute to her image. She mentioned her interest in stories from Brittany (the French region bordering the Atlantic) where many Senegalese immigrants settled. The sagas are full of legends of apparitions of Senegalese in approaching boats or those who never arrived supposedly drowned and their spirits continue to haunt the villages.
Thus, water (with its constant mutability and visual variability) becomes an image of contingency. It embodies images that challenge the assumptions of the inherent world order and show the possibility of alternative ways of understanding and interpreting reality. Here, the concept of alienation from perception becomes a valuable tool for discussing the possibility and potential of alternative ways of thinking in contemporary Black aesthetics. Atlantics positions the ocean not only in the perspective of its characters. However, it is also out of character. Such the nature of the oceanic perspective evokes a liminal space that transcends the binaries of male or female, living or dead, and human or nonhuman. The liminality aligns with contemporary Black studies’ discussions regarding Black exclusion from normative categories of humanness. Relying on racial exclusion, the exclusion is rooted in the contingent nature of the definition of humanity.
In a scene in which the sea’s initial introduction follows the key event of construction workers’ argument over unpaid wages, Souleiman’s gaze toward a vast expanse of water is juxtaposed with a towering luxury hotel under construction; it indicates his difficult decision to migrate. In particular, the sea was not directly opposite his view. Therefore, it indicates a premonition or connection with his fate. The initial disruption of straightforward point-of-view associations lays the foundation for the film’s exploration of the symbolic power of the sea.
The next meeting between Ada and Souleiman further emphasized the initial point. Their hugs signify their love. However, Souleiman’s gaze turned towards the sea suggests his preoccupation with the journey ahead. Shrouded in mist, high-angle shots showing the expressionless ocean reinforce the idea. The image goes beyond Souleiman’s physical vision to be in a psychological space triggered by his migration plans. It disrupts the conventional viewpoint narrative and makes the sea a symbol that perceives an individual.
Although the theme of the multivalence of the ocean continues throughout the film, similar shots blur the line between direct perspective and impossible vision. For example, the woman’s visit to the club after learning of the man’s departure was followed by excited waves. The visual connection indicates a bad feeling; the ocean changes from a physical entity to a symbol of impending loss. Likewise, the police officer culminates in an ambiguous image of the ocean signaling its presence beyond the reach of the view.
The film’s depiction of the ocean becomes more disturbing when the women fall ill. The intersection of water images with scenes of their illness establishes a strong connection between the ocean and ghostly possession by the disappeared. The doubling is reminiscent of Christina Sharpe’s concept of living in resurrection; it covers grief and the long-term impact of the middle course. The ocean plays as a symbol of awakening haunted by the horrors of the past and the future.
Sharpe’s interpretation highlights how Diop’s use of the sea disrupts colonial logic. By depicting the woman’s possession as occurring “afterward,” the film challenges the idea of a clear separation between life and death. Ongoing tragedy disrupts the sense of closure that is always associated with narratives of grief. Sharpe says that wake work involves resistance to colonial imposition by recognizing and addressing its complexities. Diop’s film embodies the concept by refusing easy answers; it happens because they refuse to solve the problem of exclusion through assimilation. However, it further highlights the impossibility of solutions in a system built on the denial of the humanity of black people.
Evoking Cinematic Subversion Through the Sea
In the history of film theory, Jean Epstein intricately weaves the oceanic and cinematic fields. As a medium representing an alien or non-human perspective, central to Epstein’s discourse is the idea that cinema introduces complexities that challenge conventional modes of perception and cognition. Epstein argued that cinema gives its subjects a form of personality, thereby giving them a semblance of life. On such occasions, films play as a conduit for animism that bridges the gap between the human and non-human worlds. In the process, it illuminates aspects of our perceptual abilities. According to Christophe Wall-Romana who explains Epstein’s point of view and states that cinema can reveal dimensions of reality that are beyond rational understanding, Epstein’s main ambition was to synthesize the poetic-spiritual perspective with an acknowledgment of the scientific basis of cinema.
Epstein’s philosophy extends to both organic and inorganic domains especially evident in his writings of the late 1940s on the artifice inherent in cinematography and coincides with his exploration of maritime themes in film. Epstein argued that animated images serve to depict a holistic representation of the universe. Therefore, it reshapes the collective thought process. Characterized by lyrical qualities and manipulation of temporal dynamics, cinema’s capacity to offer alternative perspectives challenges established frameworks of human cognition. Provocatively, Epstein characterizes the disruptive potential as the evil of cinema. He demonstrated his subversive ability to shake an entrenched concept. The idea of evil encapsulates the introduction of contingency into human perception; it underscores cinema’s capacity to challenge normative understandings of reality. Epstein’s exploration of water and the ocean emerged as the primary locus of cinematic subversion.
Apart from the sea motif acting as a metaphor for the turbulent changes of time and movement inherent in expressions in the film to the point of questioning conventional ideas about humanity, Atlantics also symbolizes the essence of vision in the film apart from Epstein’s maritime films dramatize the dangerous nature of the ocean. Similar to the film’s ability to disrupt conventional perception, the sea evokes moments of cognitive disorientation. Epstein’s depiction of the sea has multi-layered meanings, especially around the islands of Brittany which are powerful symbols of material restlessness and perceptual contingency.
In Epstein’s Le Tempestaire, the sea takes a central role as a potential harbinger of tragedy. Through experimental techniques, Epstein manipulates water footage to underscore its chaotic essence thereby highlighting the anxiety associated with waiting for news of maritime danger. Including the depiction of a “storm tamer,” the narrative intricacies blur the boundaries between causal reality and cinematic illusion and further highlight the disruptive potential of film representation. Epstein’s alignment with the mysterious figure of the storm tamer underscores his fascination with superstition and mysticism. By positing a dichotomy between cinematic fascination and rationality, the exploration is emblematic of the cinematic endeavor. More broadly, Epstein romanticizes the pre-modern cultural milieu as exemplified in the Breton islands.
However, Epstein’s assessment of the ocean as a symbol of eternal, primordial unity ignores the complex history associated with maritime space. Although Epstein’s cinema foregrounds the possibilities of perception and reality, the film also ignores the role of the sea as a historical agent involved in processes of colonial exploitation and resistance. Instead, Atlantics offers a corrective to the ahistorical depiction by exposing the colonial legacy embedded in the maritime narrative. Diop’s use of the sea as a historical marker is in line with contemporary discourse in marine studies which emphasizes the historical and cultural importance of the sea. By interrogating the diverse role of the sea in colonial history, Diop’s film epitomizes a contemporary anticolonial aesthetic that reconfigures Epstein’s maritime possibilities within a broader historical framework.
Disrupting Linearity and Challenging Causality
In the short film version, Diop explores the theme of migrant crossings more deeply, but in a different way than the Netflix version. It centers on a dialogue between three Senegalese men discussing migration by boat. Despite the differences, both versions employ interference in causality and time. Erika Balsom argues that the use of disruptive temporality in short films blurs the boundaries between fantasy and reality thereby challenging the linear temporality of modernity. The characters’ reflections on past events and deaths at sea draw attention to the role of the neocolonial order in encouraging individuals to work abroad due to underdevelopment and unequal exchange. The causal disruption proposed by Diop links the ocean to temporal dislocation. Therefore, she undermines conventional understandings of identity and causation. According to Epstein, deep waters dissolve the principles of identity and causation. Likewise, the ocean is associated with shifts in time through a prophetic mode that disrupts the present and calls into question the inevitability of the neocolonial future.
The image of the ocean recalls haunting colonial history, especially the period after slavery. Diop’s engagement with Derek Walcott’s poem The Sea Is History underscores the importance of the historical context. The poem’s depiction of the ocean as a grave for stolen people resonates with the film’s depiction of a watery grave. The ocean in the Atlantic represents both catastrophe and opportunity; it functions as a metaphor for loss and potential. Souleiman’s reflections on his death and his reunion with Ada disrupt the linear progression of death and challenge the notion of necessity in a neocolonial order. Such a form of aesthetic prophecy film presents a future that seems inevitable. However, it was disrupted due to the breaking of the ocean.
Like possession and the avoidance of death, supernatural elements channel colonial history and suggest new forms of anticolonial aesthetics. The use of Senegalese folklore and spirits signifies cultural resistance and reparative efforts to address transnational crises through specific national stories. Oceanic spaces also open up new possibilities for thinking about Blackness outside normative epistemologies. The queerness associated with the ocean disrupts conventional gender hierarchies. Therefore, it allows for a restructuring of body movements and identity. Diop further challenges the categories of Western humanism and evokes a strangeness of time that rejects teleological narratives of colonial oppression.
By understanding the complex interconnections between the Atlantic trade routes and global trade networks, there is an opportunity to expand the concept of fluid perception into a more nuanced understanding where the aesthetic metaphors and material agency embedded in the context become a fluid and adaptable concept. The expansion allows for a parallel alignment between Diop’s concerns and contemporary ideas such as liquid Africa and liquid Blackness. The first term denotes an African influence that spreads beyond geographical boundaries and time; it adapts to new environments while retaining the influences of its past. The fluidity exemplified by Diop reflects the transnational fluidity characteristic of contemporary African and Black experiences.
Global Forces and the Fluidity of the Image
Suzanne Enzerink outlines how the spread and reception of Diop’s films was shaped by global forces including American conglomerates such as Netflix to challenge conventional ideas in American transnational studies. Enzerink argues that Diop’s films encourage a re-evaluation of cinema’s political potential in a global context. The image of the ocean and its fluidity across narrative elements and film techniques reflects the broader fluidity of commerce; it strengthens the film’s thematic exploration of connectedness and globalization.
At the end of the film, there is an assertion of Ada’s autonomy against the backdrop of the ocean symbolizing the sense of self-awareness and empowerment associated with the fluidity of the Atlantic. The ending not only reflects the film’s exploration of Senegal’s place in the global network but also refers to the concept of liquid blackness which acknowledges the complex and multifaceted nature of Black identity. Ada’s metaphorical connection to the ocean encapsulates themes of opportunity, loss, and the future, paralleling Alessandra Raengo’s notion of liquid darkness and underscoring the film’s anticolonial aesthetic.
By imbuing water with temporal, spatial, and historical meaning, Diop creates a distinct oceanic aesthetic that permeates the film. Situated amidst transnational currents of reception and distribution, the aesthetic enhances the film’s fluidity and underscores its relevance in contemporary discourses around global migration and climate change. As migration caused by climate change intensifies, the ocean becomes a symbol of dangerous crossings and historical trauma that requires critical engagement in its representation.
Atlantics emerged as a response to the deepening inequalities resulting from contemporary global capitalism and neocolonial practices. Through an exploration of fluidity and postcolonial perspective, the film reveals hidden narratives that challenge dominant historical narratives. Such ambivalence is evident in the short film version where the ocean symbolizes the potential for disconnection and the absence of a stable foundation. Embracing fluid perception as a tool of anticolonial resistance, Diop confronts the dangers inherent in life after colonialism while advocating contingency and rupture as a way to challenge neo-colonial hegemony.
Bibliography
- Enzerink, S. C. (2021). Black Atlantic Currents: Mati Diop’s Atlantique and the Field of Transnational American Studies. Journal of Transnational American Studies, 12(1).
- Lye, L. (2024). Epstein, Jean. Future.
- Sharpe, C. (2016). In the wake: On blackness and being. Duke University Press.
- Tung, J. (2011). “The Sea Is History”: Reading Derek Walcott Through a Melancholic Lens (Doctoral dissertation).