Whose memory is it anyway? African cinema, cultural custodianship and the questions raised at Cannes

The round table on ‘Shared Memories’, Pavillon Les Cinémas du Monde, Cannes, 17 May 2025. From left: Eva Nguyen Binh, Abderrahmane Sissako, Moussa Touré, Narjiss Nejjar, F. Clémentine Dramani-Issifou, Aïssa Diaby, Thierno Souleymane Diallo, Wareth Kwaish.(Photograph: ©David Sauval)

By Emilie Gambade

20 May 2025

At this year’s Cannes Film Festival, a deeper conversation is unfolding – not just about the future of cinema, but about who holds the keys to its past. As directors, producers and institutions meet to talk about the legacy of African cinema at a round table organised at the Cinémas du Monde pavilion, the question of who gets to preserve and share these stories has never felt more urgent.

On the beach, a film crew tries to carve out some space between a group doing morning aerobics and a stream of swimmers heading for the Mediterranean. It’s a colourful mix, people in gym gear, cropped tops and shorts, actors in full makeup and costume, a sound tech holding a mic overhead, local TV crews chasing vox pops, and beachgoers in their swimwear.

We’re in Cannes, and even at 8am, La Croisette is already coming alive; the scent of fresh pastries from nearby boulangeries floats in the air, while the fast pace of joggers mixes with kids walking to school, strolling tourists, aspiring celebrities and a notable number of policemen, all focused on keeping people from getting too close to those famous red-carpeted steps.

The weather is surprisingly warm and sunny, drawing even more people to the beach, at least to the few public ones. Most are reserved for the grand hotels like the Martinez, the Grey d’Albion and the Carlton, their private decks stretching elegantly over the sea, with sun loungers perfectly arranged for a day of tanning… and being seen.

This is Cannes, after all.

The weather is a constant topic here. Sit at any café or bistro long enough and you’ll hear locals sighing that “it always rains during the festival” – a complaint as reliable as the forecast itself.

In 2012, a writer for The Hollywood Reporter, Georg Szalai said: “Rain, thunder and howling winds on Sunday brought a London feel to Cannes and forced industry folks to bring out umbrellas.”

Cannes Sit at cafés and bistros and you'll hear locals talk about the weather during the festival. La Croisette, Cannes, 17 May 2025. (Photo: Emilie Gambade)

Le Cinéma de la Plage, a free open-air cinema on the beach at La Croisette, Cannes, on 17 May 2025. (Photo: Emilie Gambade)

Yet, regardless of the rain or the crowds (or a very expensive petit café), the Cannes Film Festival, this year in its 78th edition, is driving cinephiles, producers, directors, actors and actresses from around the world not only to its Palais des Festivals, but also to smaller theatres around the city and to the pavilions.

The first official Cannes Film Festival took place in 1946, but the idea was born a decade earlier, in 1936, created to rival the Venice Mostra and push back against rising fascism.

Looking back on that 1946 debut, festival founder Philippe Erlanger described it as “the first celebration the world allowed itself in a kind of drunk euphoria, under a sun that kept shining until mid-October”. Ah, the weather again!

This year, six African films are in official competition at the festival (South African director Oliver Hermanus also has a film in competition, The History of Sound, but under a US flag): Promised Sky by Erige Sehiri, Indomptables by Thomas Ngijol, My Father’s Shadow by Akinola Davies Jnr, L’mina by Randa Maroufi, La vie après Siham by Namir Abdel Messeeh and Aisha Can’t Fly Away by Morad Mostafa.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tPDKAAqtPzY

Aisha Can’t Fly Away has been selected for the Official Competition in Cannes’ Un Certain Regard section.

But the journey began back in 2022, when the project was chosen for La Fabrique Cinéma – a programme launched by the Institut français to support emerging filmmakers from the Global South and developing countries. Each year, La Fabrique selects 10 debut or second feature projects, offering them a tailored introduction to industry professionals during the Cannes Film Festival, in close partnership with the Marché du Film.

"Aisha can't fly away", a film by Morad Mostafa, presented at Un Certain Regard, Cannes Film Festival, May 2025 (Photograph: Courtesy of Cannes Film Festival)

Why does it matter? Because every year, about 30% of the projects selected are from African countries.

The selected director-producer duos get access to masterclasses, one-on-one meetings with producers and distributors and a walk up the red-carpeted stairs at the Palais des Festivals. It’s an incredible launchpad for getting a film off the ground.

The 2025 laureates of La Fabrique Cinéma, Aisha Sultanbekova, Baran Sarmad, Rakan Mayasi, Laura Baumeister, Moïse Togo, Laís Santos Araújo, Carlos Ormeño Palma, Pédro Soulé, with, in white, the 2025 patron of La Fabrique, producer Marianne Slot, walk the stairs, Palais des Festivals, Cannes (Photograph: ©David Sauval)

At this year’s masterclass, Marianne Slot, the producer of films Woman at War (2018), Dancer in the Dark (2000) with singer Björk and Antichrist (2009) – and the 2025 patron of La Fabrique Cinéma – spoke gently about the films presented, explaining that it’s always an incredible opportunity to be at the festival, “a place of excellency”.

Talking to the young directors and producers from Brazil, Peru, Iran, Mexico, Tunisia, Kyrgyz Republic, Senegal, Cape Verde, Palestinian Territories and Cambodia, she explained the role of a producer, “to be a companion to the director”, to always support their vision.

On Saturday, 17 May, a round table titled Shared Memories, from Heritage to Creation: Guests of Cinémathèque Afrique, brought together directors Moussa Touré from Senegal, Abderrahmane Sissako (Mauritania), Thierno Souleymane Diallo (Guinea), director of the Cinémathèque of Morocco, Narjiss Nejjar, Wareth Kwaish (Iraqi Cinémathèque) and Aïssa Diaby from Cinémathèque Afrique.

Touré talked about how memory isn’t just about the past – it’s what helps shape the future.

Nejjar brought a sense of urgency to the conversation, recalling a moment as a filmmaker when she entered a film archive after a devastating flood and saw reels floating on the water’s surface. Her heart sank as she realised everything that had been recorded was lost. That moment drove her to dedicate herself to finding, restoring and protecting Morocco’s visual and cinematic heritage, ultimately leading to the creation of the Cinémathèque. It’s a sense of urgency shared by Kwaish, who took on a similar mission in founding the Iraqi Cinémathèque.

Joining the discussion, Diallo added: “Since the time of the caves, we’ve been fighting not to disappear – to be seen, to be represented! But how do you make films when there’s no camera, no memory?” He continued: “When we talk about memory and restoration, who decides what’s worth keeping, what gets preserved and what’s discarded? For thousands of years knowledge has been passed down – father to son, generation to generation – through word of mouth… We can’t afford to lose our history, our memory.”

This notion of who owns “memories” and who gets to decide their fate is something that the president of the Institut français, Eva Nguyen Binh, takes seriously.

Speaking to Daily Maverick, she said: “It’s true that we [la cinémathèque Afrique at the Institut français] are the custodians of a part of collective memory.” Asked whether the idea of returning films to their countries of origin could be seen as an extension of President Macron’s restitution efforts — notably his 2017 commitment to return African cultural heritage held in French museums — Nguyen Binh said:

“That’s an interesting idea. It really is. I actually took up my position in 2021, and I haven’t stopped thinking about it since. Because the thing is, yes, we might be the custodians, but we’re under contract for all the films, with the rights holders. So it’s really the rights holders who decide.

“What does ‘rights holders’ mean? It refers either to the directors themselves or to their heirs. If a film is shown and makes money, that money has to go to the rights holders…

“There’s a contract for each film, with each rights holder. We had also asked ourselves: aren’t these films, in a way, like cultural assets that could be returned or handed back?

“But the truth is, it’s not up to us to decide.”

The conversation also revisited a key moment from 2009, when the M-Net Electronic Media Network acquired the rights to more than 450 African films, a move it described as “returning ownership to the continent”.

According to East African Business Week, M-Net became “the distributor for this unique library on its own channels, through other TV stations, in film festivals and on a new VOD streaming service it will launch”. At the time, South Africa’s National Film and Video Foundation said: “These deals are effectively removing these films from circulation – monopolising their distribution… Many of the top African classics, like the film by the late Djibril Diop Mambety, are inaccessible because of that arrangement.”

Nguyen Binh adds: “The issue isn’t about giving these films the status of a world heritage of humanity, but rather making sure that the films are seen – and that benefits everyone, because otherwise we spend money storing, restoring and adding subtitles to these films – but in the end, how many people actually see them?

“It’s true that we distribute them widely through our network of French Institutes and Alliances Françaises, and with our partners. So they do get a lot of exposure. But I believe it’s in everyone’s interest for these films to be even more visible. It’s in the interest of Africans and French alike because it changes the way we understand the shared history between us, and that will never disappear.

“Also, when it comes to building a future, I believe there can be no contemporary creation without reflecting on heritage. That’s something the French don’t always fully realise, because we have so many images of our own history.”

At Cannes, where cinema is constantly celebrated as both art and industry, this conversation about memory – who holds it, who preserves it and who gets to reclaim it – feels especially urgent.

Beyond the red carpet and the many premieres (and parties), the festival should also be a space of reckoning: with history, with memory and with the stories that have shaped us. In spotlighting films from across the Global South, and in confronting the complexities of ownership and access, Cinémas du Monde reminds us that cinema isn’t just about the future of storytelling – it’s also about who gets to protect its past and preserve its memory for all. DM

Emilie Gambade’s trip to Cannes was supported by the Institut Français and the Institut Français in South Africa.

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