In
the 1970s, there was a demand for postal money orders. That meant post offices
often carried considerable sums of cash on-hand, yet they did not have the same
level of armed protection common to banks. Being a symbol of the French
government made them even more desirable targets for the disillusioned Jimmy Larivière
and his gang. For a while they live high and feel empowered, but internal
divisions and external pressures will inevitably lead to bloodshed in
Jean-Claude Flamand-Barny’s Gang of the
French Caribbean (trailer
here),
which screens as the centerpiece of the 2016 African Diaspora International Film Festival in New York.
Like
many colonial immigrants from the French Antilles, Larivière feels like the
victim of a bait-and-switch, falsely promised serious job-training by the
Bureau for the Development of Migration in the Overseas Departments, but only
offered menial employment on arrival. Unlike many disillusioned French
Caribbean migrants, Larivière channels his frustration, falling in with a team
of armed robbers led by the aptly named Politik.
Politik
talks a good radical game and he has connections to radical separatist organizations
back in the French Antilles. Unfortunately, he is also loyal to a fault with
respects to the gang’s weakest link: Molokoy, a heroin addict would-be pimp
deeply in debt to Algerian white slavers. Molokoy’s erratic behavior, simmering
resentment, and cowardly violence make him a ticking time-bomb. Larivière also
has his own long-term problems, including Nicole, a progressive former resident
of Martinique, who recognized him during his first hold-up.
Gang follows a familiar
gangster rise-and-fall trajectory, but the 1970s period details are spot-on. Indeed,
it captures all the chaos and confusion of the era with a good deal of
subtlety. Larivière’s semi-protective relationship with Molokoy’s Algerian
prostitute and the French Algerian military veteran (played by Mathieu
Kassovitz), who in turn protects him from the Algerian gangsters seeking to
reclaim her are particularly intriguing. Of course, there is plenty of
anti-colonial messaging, but Flamand-Barny wraps those bitter pills in easy to
digest action.
As
Larivière, Djedje Apali broods like nobody’s business, while Adama Niane just
radiates bad vibes as Molokoy. Eriq Ebouaney also sets off plenty of alarm
bells as the slick and vaguely sinister Politik. Whenever those three circle
each other, we expect fireworks to follow shortly. Kassovitz makes the most of
his all too brief experience as the shotgun-wielding café proprietor Romane
Bohringer brings dignity and dimension to Nicole, one of the few female
characters who is not largely stereotyped.