Berlin – French-Senegalese filmmaker Alain Gomis is captivating audiences at the Berlin International Film Festival with Dao, a sprawling, three-hour exploration of family, ritual, and the enduring impact of history. The film, which premiered in competition, marks Gomis’ return to the Berlinale nine years after winning the Silver Bear for Félicité, and represents his most personal work to date.
Gomis, whose work often navigates the cultural spaces between France and Africa, builds Dao around two simultaneous ceremonies: a wedding in the French countryside and a funeral commemoration in Guinea-Bissau. The film’s narrative structure deliberately blurs the lines between fiction and documentary, incorporating members of Gomis’ own family alongside professional actors and first-time performers. This blending of personal and performative creates a unique cinematic experience, one that feels less like a traditionally plotted narrative and more like an immersive, collective experience unfolding in real time.
The core of the film revolves around Béa (Katy Correa) and her daughter Nour (D’Johé Kouadio), who navigate both events. They are joined by Béa’s brothers (Mike Etienne, Nicolas Gomis, Fara Baco Gomis) and sister (Poundo Gomis), creating a complex web of familial relationships. Gomis intentionally avoids a straightforward narrative, instead opting for a fluid editing style that cuts between the two ceremonies without warning, creating a “vivid menagerie of sights, sounds, rites, languages, faces and places.”
Dao isn’t driven by plot, but by a deliberate “vibe,” according to reviews. Gomis’ previous work, including the archival documentary Rewind & Play about jazz musician Thelonious Monk, demonstrates his interest in atmosphere and improvisation. The film reportedly lacked a traditional script, and What we have is evident in scenes that meander and explore tangential themes. While moments of drama emerge between family members, they are fleeting, serving to underscore the film’s broader exploration of connection and disconnection.
Gomis’ approach is further emphasized by the inclusion of scenes showing the audition process for the film itself. He is seen directing Correa and Kouadio, along with other potential cast members, breaking the fourth wall to highlight the constructed nature of the narrative. This meta-cinematic element reinforces the idea that Dao is less a work of fiction and more a long-form acting exercise, a collaborative exploration of identity and belonging.
In Guinea-Bissau, Nour accompanies her mother to honor her late father, a man who emigrated from Africa to France and helped sustain the family. This journey represents a homecoming for Béa, who hasn’t returned to her ancestral land in years, and a first encounter with her heritage for Nour. The funeral rites provide a space for Nour to connect with a side of her family she’s never known, immersing herself in the traditions of her ancestors.
Meanwhile, in France, Nour is preparing for her wedding. The celebration brings together many of the same family members seen in Africa, as well as friends and acquaintances, including Samir Guesmi, who previously appeared in Gomis’ film Andalucia. While the wedding is a joyous occasion, Béa experiences a sense of melancholy, contemplating her own aging and the passage of time.
Gomis weaves in historical context, referencing Guinea-Bissau’s colonial past and the legacy of slavery. The film contrasts Nour’s journey between France and Africa with the historical movements of her ancestors, highlighting the enduring impact of migration and assimilation. A particularly striking scene features a spontaneous a cappella performance of The Fugees’ “Killing Me Softly” at the wedding, sung by the children and grandchildren of African immigrants – a powerful symbol of cultural fusion.
Despite its ambition and authenticity, Dao’s length and lack of a conventional plot may prove challenging for some viewers. The film’s deliberate pacing and sprawling cast require patience, and its refusal to offer easy answers can be frustrating. However, for those willing to surrender to its rhythm, Dao offers a deeply immersive and thought-provoking experience.
Gomis seems less concerned with telling a specific story than with capturing the collective act of filmmaking itself. Dao is a testament to the power of collaboration, a celebration of family, and a meditation on the complex interplay between history, culture, and identity. It’s a film that prioritizes the process of creation over the product, inviting viewers to participate in a shared experience rather than simply observe a narrative unfold.
