"I’m here for my brother’s body and I will only leave with my brother’s body". It’s into a closed world of raw emotions, in the thick of the vast African continent and in the convulsive shadows of lost western souls that Claire Denis delves by way of The Fence, which was unveiled in the 50th Toronto Film Festival’s Special Presentations section and which is later scheduled to compete in the 73rd San Sebastian Film Festival. When choosing to adapt Bernard-Marie Koltès’ stage play, Combat de nègre et de chiens (written in 1979), the famous French filmmaker was only too aware of the kind of world she was entering into, and her film wholly conveys the deranged, symbolic atmosphere of a theatrical work full of tension, things left unsaid, onerous guilt, chains and feverish agitation under the patient, stoic and steadfast eyes of an African people, because shadows that are frightening for some are soothing for others.

On one side of the fence is Horn (Matt Dillon), the boss of a vast and highly protected building complex in the middle of nowhere. On the other we find elegant Alboury (an excellent Isaach De Bankolé), who has come to collect his labourer brother’s body. Theirs is a face-off which lasts all night, with the western engineer trying to negotiate, win over, corrupt, win sympathy from, clear himself vis-a-vis, beg and threaten the inflexible African, all under the keen and inescapable surveillance of local armed guards positioned in their watchtowers. What lies behind this story about a body which Horn promises he’ll hand over first thing in the morning? It’s a mystery involving the impetuous Cal (Tom Blyth), one of Horn’s young colleagues who sings Beds Are Burning by Midnight Oil at the top of his voice while driving a pick-up truck, having collected his boss’s new wife, Leonie (Mia McKenna-Bruce), who’s joining them directly from London, who’s totally ignorant when it comes to Africa and who arrives right in the middle of this stand-off, at a very awkward moment, clearly weighed down by her own problems. Our four characters are in for a lively and incredibly turbulent night…

The Fence is anything but an ordinary film. An air of morbid and suggestive ferociousness surreptitiously underpins this story (the screenplay was penned by the director alongside Suzanne Lindon and Andrew Litvack), which deliberately leaves us in the dark over the characters’ past, apart from a few snippets here and there, offering tenuous explanations for the present. The film oozes an end-of-world atmosphere, alongside despair, drunkenness, champagne, absurd fireworks, and lonely people clinging on to one another without ever really managing to communicate. The full, fatal metaphorical weight of economic colonisation (exploitation, abuse, blame shifting) in a world monopolised by men (under the gaze of the film’s only female character) deliberately weighs down on the film, making it relatively uncomfortable but incredibly true to its sombre, cryptic subject-matter despite its spasmodic nature. Enhanced by Éric Gautier’s wonderfully organic photography and ghost-like actors, the filmmaker’s return to Africa (37 years after her first feature film, Chocolat) is an unyielding immersion in a sombre and stormy karmic microcosm. But Claire Denis is also operating on two levels: sometimes, her frightening, unknown language hides a code for those in the know, and scars are actually protective marks. In short, fans of mysteries need to know The Fence is ready and waiting for them.

The Fence was produced by Vixens in co-production with Curiosa Films, Saint Laurent Productions, Arte France Cinéma and Senegal’s Astou Production. Goodfellas are steering international sales.