Before you know his name, you notice the movement—measured, graceful, and impossible to forget. GriGris, a dancer with a paralysed leg, commands every frame he enters. Played by non-professional Souleymane Démé, he’s the pulse of Mahamat-Saleh Haroun’s GriGris, a crime drama rooted in Chad’s urban streets and its shadowy waterways.
The story is built from familiar parts: a sick stepfather who needs treatment, a risky job stealing fuel from smugglers, and a romance with a woman shunned for her sex work. Haroun treats these plot points earnestly, as though they’re fresh discoveries, which sometimes blunts their impact. But his eye for imagery—a boat drifting through an orange-lit canal, the taut beauty of GriGris’ dancing against his physical limitation—gives the film texture and weight.
The ending comes suddenly, with a sly twist that satisfies more than the meandering route to it. The bones of the tale may be common, but moments of visual poetry and Démé’s quiet magnetism make GriGris stand apart.