Cool-Handed Senegalese Horror Hybrid Saloum Is Thrilling and Cocky
Jean Luc Herbulot’s take on mysticism, mercenaries and Senegalese culture in Saloum scratches a badass Robert Rodriguez itch. Its approach to genre elevation meets at the corner of Western African tragedies and infernal escape plans, all of which smell of rebellious gunsmoke. Herbulot pens a screenplay about revenge obsessions and smuggled treasure as militant rebels collide with literal demons from Senegal folklore. “Once upon a time in Africa,” reads the film’s poster, blatantly recalling Sergio Leone and, later, Robert Rodriguez—which isn’t that presumptuous a comparison to tout. Saloum might not have the budget, but there’s no lack of confidence behind the cool-handed executions paying respect to pulp.
The year is 2003, amidst a coup d’état. A trio of mercenaries known as “Bangui’s Hyenas” are tasked with escorting a drug lord out of Guinea-Bissau, along with his massive haul of gold blocks. Chaka (Yann Gael), Rafa (Roger Sallah) and Minuit (Mentor Ba) are legends of their craft—but their latest assignment is derailed when their aircraft starts leaking fuel. Chaka instructs Rafa to steer towards Sine-Saloum, where they’ll stay at a community compound where rooms are traded for chores. Omar (Bruno Henry) welcomes Chaka’s crew with two rooms, a liquor bottle and dinner—Chaka assures his battle brothers they’ll be gone in three nights. A promise the fearless leader cannot keep.
Opening sequences prioritize the characterization of Senegal through narrated anecdotes, sprawling landscape shots and the personalities of the Hyenas. They’re described as sorcerers and mercs—Minuit knocks foes unconscious with a puff of dust blown through his wrapped hand. Herbulot doesn’t lose us to Senegalese traditions, and Gana Sira Bana’s curse upon the Bainouk people injects fantastical fabled horrors. Saloum doesn’t shy from this deep national immersion, in the same way Jayro Bustamante or Joko Anwar cultivate tremendous genre tales that proudly wave their countries’ flags.
There’s scant horror until later into Saloum, after characters have plenty of time to reveal secret identities and shoot dagger glances during otherwise civil feasts. Chaka’s first words to Omar tease a shared but forgotten history. Other characters like deaf and mute Awa (Evelyne Ily Juhen) or police captain Souleyman (Ndiaga Mbow) threaten to expose the Hyenas as expert assassins, not gold miners. Herbulot cheekily navigates tense exchanges and veiled threats through commonplace dialogue, like Chaka smiling his toothy grin while assuring Omar, “You’ll be sick to death of us.” The collective cast splendidly tiptoes across broken glass; any blown cover will turn Omar’s hideaway into a shootout. Rafa as the loose cannon, Minuit as the stoic wise man, Chaka as the tormented soul—everyone plays their part, waging performative wars before the safeties flip off.