Review by
Benjamin Poole
Directed by: Joseph A. Adesunloye
Starring: Dudley O'Shaughnessy, Wale Ojo, Alassane Sy, Lily Dodsworth-Evans, Yrsa Daley-Ward
Some of us grow up naturally, and some of us have grown-upness thrust upon
us. Of course, a few of us never grow up at all! If left to his own
devices, this would have probably been the case for Leke (Dudley O'Shaughnessy
- amazing name, amazing face) the protagonist of
Joseph A. Adesunloye’s White Colour Black, who has inconveniently found himself in the ‘thrust upon’ camp owing to
the timely death of his father.
The word protagonist (i.e., one who ‘drives the story forward by pursuing
a goal’) is used loosely here, as Leke does precious little to develop his
story or circumstances. Why would he? He’s a good looking and successful
young photographer in swinging London, his days spent conspiring with
camply sinister gallery owners, his evenings devoted to sharing his
expensive drugs with similarly attractive people before shagging them.
Brilliant! But his bloody dad had to go and spoil it all by kicking the
bucket over in Senegal, which means that Leke has to leave behind the easy
access to coke and beautiful women in London for equally easy access to
proper weed and beautiful foreign women in Dakar, and, perhaps, attend his
father’s funeral.
Maybe see it as a holiday Leke. After an energetic foursome with some
girls whom you met in a club, and then having it off with your own
photographic model, you deserve a bit of a break. When in West Africa
though, priapic Leke cannot help himself, and, despite initially turning
down the offer of his driver’s joint after touch-down in Senegal, he is
soon up to his old ways. He hooks up with an old flame (Badewa, played by
Yrsa Daley-Ward) and the visual carousel of sex continues. How old
a flame is Badewa , one wonders, as Leke has a thoroughbred London accent,
and is only in his twenties...? It’s anyone’s guess because Badewa, like
every woman in the film, is given no character expansion, and just exists
to fall, like a pied pot-piped kid, under the spell of pretty vacant Leke.
The sex is plentiful and filmed with an aspirational sheen which renders
it glossy but a bit dull. The pretty carnality is broken up a bit when
Leke has a wank, and with occasional sequences wherein Leke photographs
bits and bobs of Senegal.
White Colour Black is not so much a movie, but just things
being vaguely filmed and arranged in a, for the main part, linear
sequence. We do get these idyllic flashbacks of Leke with his dad in the
past, doing the most scenic of father and son pursuits: riding horses,
going to the beach, etc. Seems like a decent fella so there is no real
idea of why Leke is such a fusspot about going to his funeral.
Will Leke end up going to his ostler dad’s burial? Who cares? Least of all
Leke. The impact of White Colour Black relies on a tacit,
kneejerk sensibility implying that if you like drugs and enjoy sex with
multiple consenting partners you are somehow morally lacking. This message
is slightly undermined though, as, with much of its running time devoted
to comely people engaged in coition, the film has its cock and eats it
too. The people of Senegal are portrayed as down to earth, decent and good
family folk who Leke could stand to learn a lot from, as if an immigrant
to a foreign country establishing himself as a world beating photographic
talent makes him some sort of fainéant. It all seems a little reductive,
almost juvenile at times. Perhaps White Colour Black itself
needs to grow up.
White Colour Black is on Curzon
Home Cinema from February 19th.
