THE STORY – Rwanda, 2012. In the years following the Genocide against the Tutsi, community-led trials for justice and reconciliation continue across the country. Vénéranda, a survivor, leads dialogue between victims and the families of perpetrators, helping others rebuild their lives and look towards the future. But when she learns of her daughter’s unexpected pregnancy, she is forced to confront the limits of her own convictions.
THE CAST – Clémentine U. Nyirinkindi, Isabelle Kabano, Kesia Kelly Nishimwe Tina, Leocadie Uwabeza, Antoinette Uwamahoro & Aime Valens Tuyisenge
THE TEAM – Marie Clémentine Dusabejambo (Director/Writer) & Delphine Agut (Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 101 minutes
It’s been said that a film teaches you how to watch it within the first minute. In the case of “Ben’Imana,” the chillingly powerful debut feature from director Marie Clémentine Dusabejambo, the introduction to our main character sets up the difficult dichotomies that the film will be exploring. Vénéranda (Clémentine U. Nyirinkindi) stands before a court with her arms folded and gaze steady. She’s told by the authorities that refusing to give testimony is an arrestable offence, so she venomously declares “I forgive.” Of course, her body language and obstinance would seem to indicate otherwise. And with that, Dusabejambo establishes that this will be a story about the difficulties of carrying out actions that go against one’s instincts, specifically, how does anyone move on after tragedy while being sure to never forget the victims and the wrongdoing? “Ben’Imana” is a stunning, gorgeously assembled film about a people faced with a level of emotional labor that no one should ideally be forced to surmount.
Set in 2012 Rwanda, nearly two decades after the genocide that ended with hundreds of thousands dead, along with an additionally staggering number of women raped, Vénéranda’s village is one of many dealing with the atrocity’s grim legacy. A series of tribunals known as the Gacaca courts are being held in order to finally attempt to acquire justice for the victims. As the film’s opening text states, “A new era of truth begins.” Notably, there are very few men left in the village after most were killed, and here, one of the remaining males (Karangwa, played by Aime Valens Tuyisenge) is on trial for the murder of members of Vénéranda’s family. The only remaining relatives she has are her now-teenage daughter Tina (Kesia Kelly Nishimwe), her slowly deteriorating mother (Arivere Kagoyire), and her fiery sister Suzanne (Isabelle Kabano).
Vénéranda is a major figure of authority in their village, running a series of workshops for the women of her village to express their feelings about their trauma in order to help prepare them to testify. These powerful meetings also offer the audience a chance to hear a variety of experiences, all unique in details but uniformly horrible. If anything, the film might’ve benefitted from allowing these stories a bit more time to breathe individually, allowing the specific testimonies to feel more definable rather than working thematically as a unified whole, but the effect is powerful nonetheless. Suzanne is the only voice of opposition, representing those who aren’t ready to explore their pain and try to advance past it.
As Suzanne, Kabano is a wildfire in human form. Unafraid to be disliked, she decisively cuts through the village with a walking stick in hand like a personified figure of wrath. Kabano’s tired yet angry eyes flash in unison with her powerful speaking voice to continually shake the grieving women around her. On the other hand, as her sister Vénéranda, Nyirinkindi expertly plays someone better able to manage her emotions, but that doesn’t mean they don’t make themselves known. To her fellow victims, she’s patient and understanding. But when her daughter finds herself in trouble, Vénéranda isn’t so tolerant. In one scene, she quietly chastises Tina until they’re passed on the street by a neighbor, at which point Nyirinkindi quickly shifts into a friendlier mode as she makes polite conversation, before immediately going back into the mode of a disappointed mother once the pair are alone again. And as Tina, Nishimwe portrays a healthy mix of Vénéranda and Suzanne’s personalities: she has her mother’s groundedness but the passion of her aunt, as shown in an early scene where she announces news to her fellow students with the tone of a born leader.
Mostafa El Kashef’s cinematography elevates the colors that fill Vénéranda’s world, using the vibrant costumes and sets as a base from which to emphasize the hues of each scene. Green walls and blue tiles of Vénéranda’s house, the stained glass windows of her church, and other colorful pieces of decor overwhelm the camera, with additional contrast added by huge swaths of light that often pour in from windows. The natural beauty of the village is also highlighted in the form of the beautiful misty hills and green fields. And it’s not just the bright moments that are stunning to take in; one scene plunges the screen in total darkness, only for clarity to come from a lantern that Vénéranda’s lights, with the flickering flame adding instant dynamic dimension to the image. And in one similar moment of controlled dimness, one of the villagers who always wears a striking black veil is shot in extreme close-up, with only a candle lighting them, which allows us brief glimpses of her obscured face through the semi-transparent face covering.
As one character puts it, “This village is a cemetery.” The film examines a world almost entirely filled with women who are still forced to reckon with, answer for, and deal with the fallout of the actions of men. But Dusabejambo completely centers their perspective, allowing them welcome space and time to work through their most painful feelings. As such, “Ben’Imana” is ultimately a healing film, underlining the unfairness of the women’s situation as those left behind but, because of Vénéranda’s compassion, showing that the possibility of a more hopeful future is real. In one breathtaking moment, the women sing a song with the refrain “don’t cry,” but as they repeat these lyrics, rain starts to fall outside, showing that the only way to work through uncomfortable feelings and try to move past them is to face them head on. “Ben’Imana” is powerful and hopeful, visually grand and written with , and much like the characters in her film, Dusabejambo has a promising future.
