14/02/2023 - Steve Achiepo delivers an incisive first film about our desire to help and the impossibilities if not outright bad intentions lurking in the shadows

"I need you to free up the building that I showed you tonight. I’ve got a buyer – You only just asked me to fill it up – Yes, and now I’m asking you to empty it – We can’t do that, there has to be another solution, a new home for them – You and your conscience…" In France, 4 million people are the victims of inadequate housing, either living on the street or in overcrowded, insalubrious accommodation. They’re easy prey for those "slumlords" who profit from human misery and the government’s inability to come good on the promise of decent housing for all. Such is the subject tackled by Steve Achiepo with immense narrative effectiveness and from a highly original angle, in his debut feature film Slumlord [+see also:
trailer
film profile], released in French cinemas tomorrow by The Jokers.

"How many of you are living here?". Civil War is raging on the Ivory Coast, and when Félicité (Aïssa Maïga), a distant cousin who fled into exile with her two young children and who’s on a mission to get a roof over their heads, knocks on Jo’s (Moussa Mansaly) family’s door on the outskirts of Paris, the awkwardness of the situation is palpable, despite the birthday atmosphere in the background. For Jo, who works as a deliveryman in the small company run by the Colonel (Mamadou Minté) – a man he’s already done time for - the gears are set in motion and he’ll go from a good Samaritan to an unscrupulous accomplice in the pockets of criminals ("we’re here to do business"), navigating the grey zones created by the authorities’ lack of resources. These shortfalls are made clear by Jo’s ex, social worker Aurore (Ophélie Bau), whose goodwill clashes with the reality of emergency accommodation ("we’re not going to be able to help everyone", "do you want me to conjure up places from thin air? You have to respect procedures").

Jo, meanwhile, thinks he’s found a solution, as well as a remedy to his own problems (he’s desperately looking for an apartment for himself and his eight-year-old daughter, who’s dropping off in class and who still has to share her dad’s bed – attracting suspicion from social services – because the family apartment is occupied by a dozen people, with mattresses propping up all corners). Following the Colonel’s intervention, Jo rehouses Félicité and her children, first in a swiftly overcrowded pre-fab, and then in a disused former abattoir found by the brains of the network (Benoît Magimel). Everyone is happy, the homeless have a roof over their heads, as well as space, and Joe has a job and is earning money. But he soon becomes disenchanted when he discovers the darker side of this business…

Written by Steve Achiepo and Romy Coccia Di Ferro, the story unfolds like a lexicon: the world of slumlords is slowly unveiled from the viewpoint of a part-naive, partly self-interested torturer. It’s a minor, organised, underground crime network nestled in the interstices abandoned by the State; a banal kind of evil which also becomes that of a main character, blinded by himself. With Slumlord, Steve Achiepo delivers an incredibly solid, well-acted, simple, no frills, first feature film, which is nonetheless subtly enveloped (Sébastien Goepfert heads up photography and Amine Bouhafa music) and especially sharp when it comes to tackling an important societal subject, with an action air inspired by American cinema of the 1970s.

Slumlord is produced by Barney Production in co-production with France 2 Cinéma and The Jokers (who are managing distribution in France), with international sales entrusted to Orange Studio.

(Translated from French)