From NYFF: ‘Night of the Kings’ is Hallucinatory

Some films can conjure images so lurid and so hypnotic that they simulate the feeling of dreaming. “Night of the Kings,” written and directed by Philippe Lacôte, is one of those films. Lacôte creates a hermetically enclosed world, stuffed full with haunting, ethereal visuals. This feature marks the second film from Lacôte, whose debut “Run” (2014) was the first film from Côte d’Ivoire to be screened at the Cannes Film Festival.

“Night of the Kings” takes place in the infamous La MACA prison in Abidjan, Côte d’Ivoire, where an organized gang of prisoners call all the shots, accruing resources and organizing the living quarters. The film unfolds over 24 hours as a new prisoner, Roman (Koné Bakary), is selected by inmate leader Blackbeard (Steve Tientcheu) to be the “storyteller” for a mysterious ritual in that night’s Blood Moon. Standing alone before hordes of frenzied prisoners in the red moonlight, Roman eventually realizes that he must stall his story until dawn for a chance to escape the ritual with his life. Lacôte also interweaves multiple subplots, including the mystical story of the outlaw Zama King, which Roman narrates during the Blood Moon ritual, and the existential politics of a power vacuum when it’s revealed that Blackbeard is terminally ill.

Lacôte’s film explores masculinity in an all-male society and the stratification of roles in a criminal organization. But what sets “Night of the Kings” apart from the canon of prison dramas is its commitment to depict the power of storytelling. Roman’s tale of Zama King is an effective use of the story-within-a-story technique: It allows Lacôte to comment on the nature of film as a medium to tell stories. The fantastical fable of Zama King is a substitute for film, and the prisoners wrapped up in the story are proxies for the audience. It’s a reminder that storytelling has the power to captivate, the power to spark fantasies, and in Roman’s case, perhaps even the power to save one’s life.

Just as Roman’s story captivates hundreds of prisoners, it also enthralls the audience of “Night of the Kings.” Lacôte creates a unique, immersive world with the story of Zama King, so steeped in obscure ancient history and rituals that it feels like a rude awakening when the audience is brought back to La MACA. The prisoners sing and chant with a spiritual conviction as Roman’s story unfolds, and, often, a group of them act out the story in a trance-like choreographed dance.

These mesmerizing sequences are animated by cinematographer Tobie Marier-Robitaille’s decision to shoot most of the film on a handheld camera, snaking through the narrow corridors of La MACA, and set free to sprawl around its concrete courtyards in the ghoulish red moonlight. While many of the daytime prison sequences look grey and desaturated, Marier-Robitaille makes a remarkable contrast at night, lighting faces to a ghostly effect with the delicate, soft glow of lamps.

However, “Night of the Kings” feels too short. Some films are comfortable filling three and a half hours — take Martin Scorsese’s introspective mobster swan song “The Irishman.” Others find their fit at just 30 minutes, such as Pedro Almodóvar’s “The Human Voice,” which was also screened at this year’s NYFF. But 93 minutes is simply insufficient for “Night of the Kings”; too many plot points are rushed or unresolved, which is disappointing considering how well Lacôte had juggled them throughout the film.

Nevertheless, “Night of the Kings” is a beautiful, original film. It reminds one why they go to the movies in the first place — to dream, to escape, and to aspire. Lacôte’s film will screen virtually at the New York Film Festival until Sept. 29.

—Staff writer Lanz Aaron G. Tan can be reached at lanzaaron.tan@thecrimson.com and on twitter @LanzAaronGTan1.