Carried by instinct, sincerity and heart, Untamable [+lee también:
crítica
entrevista: Thomas Ngijol
ficha de la película] takes inspiration from the documentary A Murder in Abidjan by Mosco Boucault (1999). Born in Paris, actor-director Thomas Ngijol, who also acts in the film, is of Cameroonian origins and the action of the film, presented in Directors’ Fortnight at the 78th Cannes Film Festival, therefore takes place there.

Cineuropa: Could you talk about the genesis of the film? Was the change from the Ivory Coast (where the original documentary was set) to Cameroon solely motivated by personal reasons?
Thomas Ngijol: I needed to tell this story, because it was a part of me. It was linked to many things: my relationship to communication, to transmission, to cultural heritage. There was a plethora of subjects I felt I needed to address, because I had already broached them in my stand-up show, but through the prism of children. This time, I wanted to deal with certain things for myself. So I reconnected to the child I was with my parents and I wanted to mix that with a crime kind of story, because that genre allowed me to set up a strong tension, and to cross this intimate dimension with a more structured plot. There was no other choice but to go to Cameroon, and above all to make a 100% African film, because if I’d made it in France, since I am connected to immigration, we would have been dealing with other issues, and I didn’t want that at all. I wanted a universal topic, for it to be understood by everyone. I didn’t want another topic to insert itself that wouldn’t be the topic of the film.

In Untamable, you once again work both in front and behind the camera, as actor and director. What lessons from your previous experiences did you bring to this shoot, and what did you learn this time around?
My previous films taught me to trust my instincts more. This allowed me to better listen to my sensations, to better put myself in the actors’ places and to be present beside them. These are things I’ve really integrated over the different shoots. On this film, I mostly understood that no one expected me to go in that direction. People thought I’d do a comedy instead. And yet, today, I am in Cannes, and the film has a distributor. This shows that one should follow their wishes, when they come from the heart. These are not decisions founded on any calculation or on commercial interest: these are sincere impulses, like a sudden craving for Nutella crêpes. We don’t resist it, we go for it. Even if this job is part of an industry, it is important to listen to your own wishes, as long as they are honest and reasonable.

In this film, you opted for a blend of comedy and drama. How did you find the right balance?
My wish was to be in life, at the heart of Cameroon society. I wouldn’t say it is theatrical, but these are very strong characters, they are figures. I simply tried to be fair and accurate, because as long as you are accurate, you are in the flow of life, and life is a series of emotional roller-coasters: sometimes we laugh a lot, sometimes we’re sad, and what, in a difficult moment, can become funny, can at another moment be not funny at all.

Your film’s original score even takes a detour towards Marvin Gaye… How important was music in your artistic process?
I worked with a composer called Dany Synthé, a friend and a very big producer here in France. He works with the biggest French artists, mostly urban, rap and afro music artists. I thought, “I have to talk to him”, because he would bring some modernity and make sure we don’t fall into cliché. So I talked to him about it and he liked it, because the challenge was interesting: it was a win-win situation for us both. I spent a lot of time in the studio with him and I was part of the creative process. I am not a musician at all and I found these moments incredible, because my sensibility was listened to. He clearly has exceptional talent and music is a pillar of the film.

The film explores two great themes: the investigation and family dynamics. Which one was most difficult to represent?
The family aspect, because it was the most intimate for me, and therefore the most difficult to render and to play. It wasn’t easy because I had to be sincere with situations that aren’t necessarily very serious. This isn’t Festen, to take a film example. This isn’t about extreme drama or devastating revelations, but rather misunderstandings, silences and distances within a family. It’s more subtle, more diffuse, and this kind of heaviness was hard to render, to play, to make co-exist with all the rest. That was the real challenge for me, and I think it worked in the end.