It is with profound sadness that I share news of Souleymane Cissé passing today, February 19, 2025, in Bamako, Mali, at age 84. His daughter Mariam confirmed his death to Agence France Presse, the news reaching me as I exited a screening at the Berlinale, in Germany. I find myself stunned, recalling with vivid clarity his presence at the 2024 Silicon Valley African Film Festival (SVAFF) just four months ago.
As I wrote then in the piece below, published not long after the SVAFF, I watched him move through the festival grounds with remarkable vitality, recording everything on his cell phone camera with youthful curiosity. There was no hint of fragility or illness – only the sprightly energy of a master still deeply engaged with his craft and community. His unexpected death, mere days before he was set to preside over the Feature Film Jury at FESPACO, adds another layer of poignancy to what follows – a reflection on his legacy written during what would be his final public appearance.
In retrospect, my closing words about cherishing him “while we still can” carry a weight I could not have anticipated.
The piece captures a specific moment in time, documenting my actual observations and his living presence at SVAFF. The forward-looking elements (FESPACO, upcoming projects) are now part of the historical record of what was anticipated but never came to be, which I believe make the piece even more valuable as documentation of his final months.
In the pantheon of African cinema, few figures loom as large as Souleymane Cissé. Often hailed as “Africa’s greatest living filmmaker” (he’s 84), he remains one of the few surviving post-colonial pioneers, with a career that has shaped the continent’s cinematic landscape with influential films like “Yeelen.” His continued involvement in film culture, advocacy for African cinema, and mentorship of emerging filmmakers further solidify his status.
As a living link to post-colonial African cinema’s formative period—especially in a context where documentation of early pioneers is scarce—his presence is invaluable and should be cherished as a vital connection to the past and a guide for the future of African storytelling.
Cissé’s recent recognition with a Cultural Icon Award at the 15th Silicon Valley African Film Festival (SVAFF) in San José (October 10-13, 2024), alongside luminaries Dr. John Kani, Richard Mofe-Damijo, and Julie Dash, is yet another milestone in a career that is not just artistic, but an act of cultural preservation and resistance.
The SVAFF’s recognition is particularly fitting. Founded to address the persistent challenge that even after six decades of post-colonial rule, Africa’s narrative remains largely filtered through foreign lenses, SVAFF’s mission echoes the very essence of Cissé’s lifelong cultural pursuits.
The honor carries even more resonance as the Icon prepares to preside over the Feature Film Jury at FESPACO’s upcoming 29th edition in February 2025 – a festival he may not have co-founded but helped establish via his contributions in the form of influential films, regular participation, and advocacy for African cinema that have played a role in shaping FESPACO’s reputation and development over the years.
Born in 1940 in Bamako, Mali, Cissé’s journey began in Moscow at the All-Union State Institute of Cinematography. “If I hadn’t learned this profession in Moscow, I wouldn’t be who I am today,” he reflected in conversations during the SVAFF, crediting this training for preparing him to face the challenges of filmmaking in Mali, a country he describes as still lacking in resources and infrastructure for cinema.
Emerging among the early decolonization wave of African filmmakers, and rooted in the oral traditions of the Bambara people, Cissé’s early films demonstrated the same brand of fearlessness that punctuated the work of other bold voices in post-colonial African film, like Ousmane Sembène and Med Hondo.
Cissé’s “Den Muso” (The Young Girl, 1975) and “Baara” (Work, 1978) tackled contemporary social issues while establishing his commitment to visual storytelling that respected African cultural frameworks.
“Den Muso” broke new ground in Malian cinema by confronting sexual violence and the oppression of women in contemporary society. “Baara” addressed class struggle and labor exploitation. Like many of his contemporaries across the continent, Cissé used cinema as a tool for social critique, challenging both traditional and political power structures.
As a result, local tensions often surrounded his work, while also cementing his reputation as an uncompromising artist committed to truth-telling through cinema.
Cissé was briefly imprisoned in 1978 during the production of “Baara” because of the film’s commentary on socio-political and labor issues in Mali, which the authorities saw as critical of their policies, viewing it as subversive. The film wasn’t explicitly “subversive,” but its analytical stance and Marxist undertones likely contributed to the controversy with the Malian government that resulted in the filmmaker’s imprisonment.
The watershed moment came with “Yeelen” (1987), which won a Jury Prize at Cannes, making Cissé one of a few sub-Saharan African filmmakers to receive top recognition for a feature film at the world’s most elite film festival. “I never thought this film would be accepted outside of Mali,” he has admitted.
Cissé’s most celebrated film, “Yeelen” is a culturally resonant work that continues to redefine perceptions of African filmmaking. Set in 13th-century Mali, it tells the story of Nianankoro, a young sorcerer who journeys across the ancient country, evading and confronting his power-hungry father.
Drawing on Bambara oral traditions and the legend of Sundiata Keita, the film immerses audiences in pre-colonial Mali’s spiritual depth while exploring universal themes like power, knowledge, and societal transformation, and more specific threads of tradition, magic, and identity. It also challenged external narratives about Africa, particularly those imposed by Western cinematic traditions at the time.
Cissé’s approach to filmmaking has always been well rooted in local cultural concerns, with an eye toward longevity. “Each time I wrote a subject, I told myself I’m not addressing my son, but his grandchildren,” he explained during the SVAFF. This philosophy has indeed resulted in works that continue to resonate, though he notes with some frustration that many of his films still face wide distribution and accessibility challenges despite their enduring relevance; a regrettably well-documented problem that plagues much of African filmmaking history.
“Yeelen” stands out for its visual storytelling—an aesthetic approach that blends history, mythology, and realism. However, it’s more than a historical retelling; it’s a philosophical exploration of Africa’s agency and a challenge to perceptions of the continent as one that has merely been imposed upon.
The film’s visual style has often drawn comparisons to Western genres like science fiction and fantasy, yet comparisons like these risk diminishing its roots in Bambara cosmology and African spiritual traditions. Making a cross-generational link, regarding the making of her widely-recognized sci-fi short film “Pumzi” (2009), Kenyan filmmaker Wanuri Kahiu astutely shared the following in an interview: “It wasn’t an active choice that I was going to make a science fiction film to deal with issues. I didn’t even know if was a science fiction film. I was just writing a story. The genre has been used in Africa for a long time, even before I was born. If we consider science fiction as the use of speculative or fictitious science within a story, then we’ve always used it… The difference now is that people have more access to Africa and can hear more stories coming from the continent.”
By situating “Yeelen” as a text that emerges from the depths of Malian storytelling traditions rather than aligning it with Western literary or cinematic canons, we gain more appreciation for its authenticity and place within African film history.
While it’s often the focal point of discussions around Cissé’s legacy, his other works like “Finye” (1982) and “Waati” (1995) are equally essential in understanding his cinematic philosophy. “Finye” dives into generational conflicts, via student protests and the push for change in Mali—a reflection of the political climate at the time. Meanwhile, in “Waati,” Cissé addresses broader African struggles against colonialism and apartheid, with a cross-country story that captures multiple histories.
Collectively, these films provide a comprehensive picture of Cissé’s commitment to exploring the socio-political realities of “modern Africa,” showing off his versatility as a griot.
Contemporary African filmmakers from Abderrahmane Sissako to Mati Diop build upon Cissé’s foundation while charting new territories. Their works echo his commitment to telling stories rooted in African truths while engaging with global audiences.
This influence extends to Cissé’s own family. His daughter, Fatou Cissé, has stepped behind the camera, directing the 2022 documentary “Hommage d’une fille à son père: Souleymane Cissé” (A Daughter’s Tribute to Her Father: Souleymane Cissé) about his life and work. “I hope she will make a career out of it because she has hidden talent,” he shared.
The transnational nature of contemporary African cinema demonstrates the extent of the impact of Cissé and his contemporaries, as filmmakers contend with both the opportunities and challenges of telling African stories in an interconnected world.
Notably, the challenges he faced, from funding hurdles to censorship and limited distribution, are systemic issues that many African filmmakers continue to confront today. Understanding these realities is necessary to appreciating the depth of the legacies pioneers like Cissé leave behind.
His reputation extends beyond his filmography. Cissé has been an active advocate for the development of Malian cinema through his involvement with the country’s National Film Center. His efforts to establish infrastructure and support for emerging filmmakers have helped nurture a new generation of storytellers. He sees cinema not just as an art form but as a means to build cultural bridges, protect heritage, and assert African agency on the world stage.
A Living Archive
As African cinema faces a new moment of global recognition and technological change, Cissé maintains both hope and concern for its future. He laments the industry’s current dominance by episodic series rather than major cinematic projects, seeing this as potentially limiting the representation and development of African filmmaking. Yet he continues to encourage young filmmakers to dream and make their audiences dream with them.
By the way, Cissé is apparently working on a new project: a documentary, though few specifics have been provided or discussed at this time.
His upcoming role at FESPACO, scheduled for February 22 to March 1, 2025, in Ouagadougou, Burkina Faso, can be read as a full-circle moment. “FESPACO is a great symbol for me… It’s something we put in place with my elders,” he reflected. It’s a humorous nod that carries its own particular resonance given that Cissé himself is now regarded as one of those very elders.
At 84 years old, and as one of the last living pioneers of African cinema, his presence is an invaluable link to the continent’s cultural history.
Watching him move through the Silicon Valley African Film Festival (SVAFF) grounds earlier this month, spry and engaged, capturing moments with a cell phone camera, reflecting a youthful curiosity, I was struck by the precious nature of his presence: “Here walks a vessel of history,” it occurred to me, who can speak firsthand about the birth of African cinema, whose stories from that era are invaluable precisely because so much of that history lacks proper documentation beyond the most celebrated figures like Sembène.
To truly honor Cissé’s legacy is to understand his body of work as an ongoing dialogue with Africa’s past, present, and future, offering a roadmap for new generations to craft narratives that remain culturally grounded while engaging with global audiences; particularly as streaming platforms and digital technology continue to expand access for and to African filmmaking.
But perhaps most urgently, we must cherish and exalt him as a living archive while we still can.