Being
a musician in the Democratic Republic of the Congo is not so different than in
any other country, especially the lack of health insurance. This is even riskier
in the rough-and-tumble DRC, which is not very democratic and nor much of a republic.
A hit-and-run accident leaves a club singer’s son in desperate need of surgery,
but she will have to rely on her wits and the mercy of others to raise the
considerable hospital fee in Alain Gomis’s Félicité
(trailer
here), which screens as a Main Slate selection
of the 55th New York Film Festival.
You
can hear a lot of life in Félicité’s voice when she sings in neighborhood
clubs. It would be an exaggeration to say she has fans, but there are regulars
like Tabu, who often come out to hear her—at least before he hooks up with an
available woman who will go for his lines. Unfortunately, her world implodes
when her son Samo is driven off the road. He requires surgery to keep his leg,
but the $600 bill must be prepaid. Of course, that is a discouragingly sum for
any workaday working class Kinshasan. For a musician, it is prohibitively onerous.
To
make matters worse, Félicité even falls prey to a petty scam artist targeting
distraught parents such as herself. Nevertheless, desperate times demand
desperate measures, so Félicité borrows and begs from some of her worst
enemies, including her ex-husband. She will ask from everyone in her social
circle, but only Tabu the player seriously steps up. As Félicité agonizingly
scrapes together the needed funds, an unlikely romance haltingly blossoms
between them, even though she is fully aware Tabu has decidedly not changed his
ways.
Félicité is a defiantly
messy, undisciplined movie that could easily be trimmed by at least twenty
minutes, but it packs a powerful punch. Véro Tshanda Beya Mputu is simply a
revelation as Félicité. She is an intense presence during the straight dramatic
scenes, but when she sings, all bets are off. In fact, the film’s most striking
aspect is the way her vocal performances reflect her character’s state of mind.
Her story is always right there in her song.
She
also develops some appealingly ambiguous chemistry with Papi Mpaka’s Tabu.
Despite their myriad flaws and mistakes, their budding relationship gives us
all hope. Of course, the Kasai Allstars sound terrific essentially playing
themselves. They have a really funky groove that sounds influenced by soul,
R&B, and Highlife music. They never get to leave the bandstand, but the film
wouldn’t work without them (according to the French-Senegalese Gomis, they were
the reason he made the film in Kinshasa). Yet, Félicité also has distinctive counterpoint sounds provided by the
impressively scrappy Symphonic Orchestra of Kinshasa, who perform Arvo Pärt’s Fratres with her classical chorale
ensemble.
