THE AFRICAN FEMME FATALE
In one of my fondest childhood memories, I am arguing with my cousin over which DVD we should buy that Sunday from the man whose pop-up shop sold just about every form of CD entertainment you could think of. It was a ritual. Every Sunday after church we would stop by this shop and pick out a new film for the week. It was almost always Nigerian, and (courtesy of liberal parents) it was almost always horror.
Before there was “African cinema,” there were “African video films,” a soap-esque form of production characterised by the merging of aesthetics and low production value, that were often defaulted to what can be described as second-hand films. Despite this, they were massively popular in many African countries. Their low production value was offset by the huge local market - with films being produced on (VHS and then eventually) DVD incredibly fast, and being sold locally to thousands of people, often by street vendors. Nollywood, as one of the first African film industries, pioneered this wave and the film industry in my home country, Tanzania, eventually followed in their footsteps.
The low production value of these video films was offset by the appeal to local storytelling, the use of local languages and the casting of local actors. It didn’t matter too much that the quality was poor because the stories felt incredibly close to home. African horror in particular, is a genre extremely close to home. The ‘monster’ in most of these films is drawn from our everyday lives. Instead of ghosts or zombies, as seen in horror films from the Global North, the films depicted stories and villains influenced by folklore, urban myths and legends, or hadithi, that were passed on from one generation to the next.
The fear exists in the way that so many elements incorporated in the film are identifiable in our day to day existence.
As a result, a lot of the horror video films had didactic content, and served as education for their audiences. And owing to pervasive patriarchal views on the continent, a common cautionary tale that evolved was one that warned society of the femme fatale. The femme fatale is a deceitful woman that uses her sexuality, traditionally her only source of power, to lure men in before she destroys their lives. She might have a grander purpose, but it is rarely love nor acceptance. Her main focus is to disrupt the marriages, jobs or overall reputation of the oblivious men she preys on. She is framed as one to be fearful of, for you have no chance of survival once she has you at her mercy.
This trope has been re-produced in cinema all over the world, time and time again. In African horror films however, there is an attempt to mitigate this lack of overt power, with the femme fatale often taking on supernatural tendencies. What you get is a temptress with the ability not only to ruin a man’s life, but also to transfigure them into an object, or to bewitch them into being at her command. The two features - sexuality and supernatural abilities - become intertwined.
In Tanzanian film Shumileta, the female lead becomes a vampire-esque siren sent to Earth by her father, the king of the underworld, to find a husband of her choice. In Nigerian film Nnneka The Pretty Serpent, a mermaid in human form comes on to land to seduce married men. In both cases the women are invincible and the men are theirs for the taking. The femme fatale in this form rejects the portrayal of victimisation in femininity, as we are used to seeing it in film & TV. In fact, it attempts to flip this enduring imagery on its head and instead posits women as the predators, and men as victims.
Although the African femme fatale is probably still evident in recently released films, it gained traction particularly in the early 00s because of changing conceptions of gender on the continent. There was a negotiation of sorts in relation to gender identity during this time. Women started owning their sexuality, as evident in other art mediums such as music videos, which incorporated more sensual dance and revealing clothing. Night clubs in urban cities, another site where femininity would be performed, became increasingly popular. For a while, the impression might have been that there was more room for expression, and that notions of purity were slowly becoming outdated. The backlash however, as seen by their portrayal in African horror films, says otherwise.
This issue of the dominant images of femininity through the African femme fatale in many ways mirrors societal views. That women’s deviation from the patriarchal gender norms victimizes men. That women’s sexual agency or even romantic agency serves to destroy respectable social institutions such as marriage (if the man in question is a husband) or even church (if the man in question is a pastor).
That this self-expression did nothing but tempt and trick men - and by extension, society as a whole - into immorality.
This becomes even more effective when you consider, as aforementioned, that these supernatural tendencies are not far-fetched in the bulk of Nigerian or Tanzanian communities. In both Shumileta and Nneka the Pretty Serpent, there is strong water imagery. Nneka parallels the West African water spirit “Mami Wata,” who often takes on feminine attributes and a mermaid-like physique. She is known for her healing powers, but also for her lust and promiscuity as she engages is sexual relations with her male devotees. In Shumileta, her home, the underworld, is in the water. The film starts with her mysteriously emerging from the ocean.
Many Tanzanians, especially those residing in coastal regions, popularly retell stories of people being abducted when they were swimming or boating in the water. In both Nigeria and Tanzania, the idea that someone could invoke a witch doctor to put a love hex on someone is similarly not new. Although these video films may seem improbable because of their exaggerated portrayal of these women (extended teeth to create the vampire effect or witch-long nails - creative license from filmmakers who of course cannot know what these spirits would look like) or low-fi graphics when they are invoking their superpowers, the inspiration is very much relatable for many Africans.
In Nollywood, horror films in particular, often end with an infographic that says “To God be the Glory”, resembling the African Christian’s knee jerk reaction to call on God for protection after something demonic has been seen or heard. Similarly, Tanzania has a huge (almost half) Christian population.
Both countries inhibit this tense space with most people believing in both the power of God and Christianity as well as the power of what is commonly referred to as black magic. The juxtaposition of these films that portray the African femme fatale with an infographic that is intended to sort of cleanse the audience’s viewing experience, further homes in to the idea of this version of femininity as immoral. It has created a clear dichotomy of good and bad.
As a result, not only are the supernatural tendencies rejected, so is the feminine sexual expression.
The African femme fatale over the years has been portrayed as attractive, uncompromising and even bad-ass - but it has always remained clear that these were not qualities to aspire to. That these horror films draw inspiration from our home traditions and everyday lives serves as a potent reminder that there are still great limitations placed on feminine expression, and this negotiation of gender conceptions is ever present in both mainstream film as well as real life.
By Karen Chalamilla
