Twenty-five years after Jean-Marie Teno’s first trip to FESPACO, his contemplative and inquisitive documentary Sacred Places carefully interrogates the meaning of African cinema for himself as an African documentary filmmaker, as well as future trends in African cinema. Teno wanted to explore what had become of the dreams of the pioneers of African film who had seen film as way to educate the masses, rather than just as entertainment. Much has changed with the impact of structural adjustment, the triumph of unbridled global capitalism, and the further impoverishment of the poor, but, as Teno states them, the major questions the film posits still remain: “But who is speaking? To say what and to whom?”

Sacred Places is set in one of the poorest areas in central Ouagadougou in Burkina Faso, the center of African cinema and FESPACO. The neighborhood of St. Louis, away from the festival glitter, is located between the cathedral and a mosque. It is here that Teno chooses to go to one of the sources of African cinema—the local people who are far from, but intrinsically part of, the films screened at the festival and the attendant discourse.

The film focuses on three characters in order to explore the questions Teno poses on African cinema. Bouba is the owner of a small cinema club where the local community members (mostly men) gather to watch pirated DVDs that are shown regularly on a small television screen. This is one of many clubs throughout Africa that have gradually replaced the movie theaters that have sadly closed down all over the continent. The entrance fee is minimal, and Bouba struggles to keep it going. The second character is Jules-Cesar, a djembe drum player and maker who uses his instrument to publicize the screenings. He sees oral tradition and djembe as the “older brother” to cinema, as both fulfill the same purpose of communicating with the audience. Lastly, there is Abbo, a former technician, who gave up his office job to become a public writer and who now writes his poetic sayings on a local wall for all to read. Teno sees these three men as a metaphor for cinema. Jules-Cesar represents sound and the creative elements, Bouba represents the image, and Abbo, according to Teno, is “like a filmmaker writing on the walls” (“Writing on the Walls: Documentary, the Future of African Cinema,” Africultures 21, March 2011).

Mixing his pensive voiceover with interviews and scenes of the neighborhood, Teno paints a beautiful portrait of the everyday lives of ordinary people and their creative existence in dealing with the little they have. The cinematography is skillfully crafted with a variety of camera shots that show intimate details of their actions. For example, we see the sweat that rolls down Julius’s face as he puts great effort into stretching the skin of his djembe. We listen in to the conversations of the men as they sit around, ritually pouring tea and discussing politics, the high unemployment rate, and the desperate need for a government that creates jobs. Teno randomly questions women as they go about their daily lives; one woman says she gets harassed if she tries to attend a screening at Bouba’s club, which must account in large part for the absence of women there.

The topic of Africa cinema and cinema for Africans is examined much more deeply. Tidiane, the supplier of DVDs, brings whatever he can find to the cine club. Bouba checks through the collection of films with all the seriousness of a festival programmer or manager deciding what to schedule and in what order, and how much each will cost. He would like to show more African films, but the same problem that plagues the continent generally is that African films are too expensive compared to the cheap blockbusters from the rest of the world. He can show European, Hollywood, Bollywood, and karate films at a fraction of the cost. Nevertheless, he constantly stresses his strong desire to show more African films and is delighted to find Idrissa Ouedraogo’s Yaaba (1989) in the collection.

Teno also asks local people what they like to watch. A young man in army fatigues says he likes action films because he practices martial arts, but then he goes on to say that he also likes African films like Ouedraogo’s Tilai (1990) and the Burkinabé historical drama Buud Yam (1987), which show African viewers their own lives and also “help them see ahead.” What emerges from Teno’s conversations is that African films are not seen widely because people lack access to them, not because they prefer mindless entertainment. Consequently, the more African films that are available, the more possible it would be to fuel the audiences’ desire to see them, thereby creating a more informed audience that might, in part, potentially fulfill the dreams of the pioneers of African cinema to use film for social change.

During a key moment in the film Teno interviews Idrissa Ouedraogo to ask how he feels about the cine club’s showing a pirated copy of his film Yaaba. Ouedraogo is delighted that Yaaba is still being seen twenty years after it was released and pays a visit to the club when it is screened. Ouedraogo also suggests that once films have had a theatrical release and then go to DVD, the filmmakers should make some of them accessible to poor cine clubs such as Bouba’s.

This latest film by Jean-Marie Teno confirms the director’s importance as both a filmmaker and a commentator on, and contributor to, the discussions of African cinema. His body of intelligent, innovative films is an inspiring testament to the power of documentary to question and promote change in Africa.