The Two Faces of a Bamiléké Woman

In a deep, hypnotic voice, filmmaker Rosine Mbakam narrates a trip back home to her native Cameroon, a former French colony, in this video essay that in style falls somewhere between the experimental films of Chris Marker and the autobiographical cinema of Ross McElwee. At the time, the country was celebrating 55 years of independence, and Mbakam, who had been living in Belgium, brought her young son with her. Just as she has two Bamiléké names—one from her mother’s side, the other from her father’s—she wants her son to take part in the same tradition. Mbakam’s mother, Mâ Brêh, who wears traditional printed dresses, describes her daughter’s work as "taking photos so that we can see them at the cinema." Considering that she has only visited a theater once, it’s not surprising that movies are a mystery to her (when she saw people shooting and killing each other on screen, she naturally thought it was really happening). During the day, Mâ Brêh sells fresh produce and dried fish from a market stall. Her own mother was one of three co-wives, just as she was one of two, but when her husband died, she married her co-wife’s son. In the film, Mbakam talks to her mother about almost every aspect of her life as the latter cooks, cleans, and looks through old photographs. Offering a glimpse into a vanishing way of life, which the director approaches with a mix of curiosity, sorrow, and affection, this is recommended. Aud: C, P. (K. Fennessy)