Asked why Superman isn’t performing as well in international markets as it is in the States, James Gunn wondered whether a hero so linked to “truth, justice and the American way” would always suffer in the current political climate. Whether you buy that as an explanation in this particular case or not, it’s clear that the global popularity of American movies is being affected by the global unpopularity of American politics in a way that wasn’t the case under Nixon, Reagan, Bush Jr. et al. The only question is what comes after Hollywood. Perhaps the boldest bet comes from Lacmé Studios, who are behind Jean Luc Herbulot’s Zero, released in UK theatres this weekend by Blue Finch Film Releasing.
Lacmé was co-founded by Herbulot and producer Pamela Diop to invest specifically in African films. It’s based in Senegal, which has one of the most prestigious cinematic traditions on the whole continent – but the Senegalese cinema represented by classics like Black Girl and Touki Bouki isn’t the business Lacmé are in, at least not yet. Rather, films like Zero, or Herbulot’s previous feature Saloum, are brash, unapologetic genre films. As such, their success rests on being able to survive in a global genre marketplace, as well as working for overseas audiences who might have picked this up for reasons other than a deep interest in the culture and politics of Senegal.
If that’s the objective, then Zero immediately makes some sharp bets. For all Hollywood is an ailing industry, an American star can still open a lot of doors for a non-American film. Zero has a number of American characters but the biggest name is the mysterious criminal at the centre of its plot, a character only heard in phone conversations. It’s a role that requires an actor who’s compelling and charismatic even when he’s – literally – phoning it in, and fortunately they have Willem Dafoe. Dafoe is, as ever, a dab hand at silky, ambiguous menace, which is exactly what the role needs. It also helps a little that he’s never on screen, and as such never fully pulls focus from some of the less famous names in the cast.
The ending of the film reveals Zero has interests beyond the pure suspense its capsule description seems to promise.



Those actors are more of a mixed bag, although as the film went on I wasn’t sure whether it was their fault or whether they were simply stretched too far by the contrivances of the script. Hus Miller, who also co-wrote the script, plays the central role of an American businessman who wakes up to find a bomb strapped to his chest and the Green Goblin whispering in his ear. It’s a good, tried-and-tested hook for a thriller, and Miller gives good macho bewilderment as he’s put through his paces. But we never really learn enough about him, or the other bomb-wearing stooge played by Cameron McHarg. It’s not a matter of back-story – there’s only limited space for that in a thriller with this kind of forward momentum. It’s more that the script wants for the kind of quirks and unexpected details that might make these characters interesting for reasons outside their dire predicament.
Most of the script’s energy goes on inspired side quests, fake-outs and local colour instead, and happily this pays dividends. Herbulot has a real gift for set-pieces, whether that’s the expected action ones – McHarg gets one particular fight scene which is all the better for Herbulot keeping it simple and capturing it in one near-static shot – or the more unexpected touches of local colour. Two characters are introduced with a fast-cut montage of their social media presence; the first is a famous boxer, the second you wouldn’t believe me if I told you. The digressions do arguably let a little of the suspense slip, but then the ending of the film reveals Zero has interests beyond the pure suspense its capsule description seems to promise.
Without spoiling anything, Miller and McHarg’s characters are put through their paces in order to learn the lesson Westerners in the Global South never seem to get: that this isn’t their story, and they’re not the heroes. This might be the point at which the film loses that hypothetical global action audience a little, substituting the universal fears of the opening act for some very specific political messages. But those messages are good ones, and they’re not, ironically, that different from the ones in James Gunn’s Superman – they’re just lent a bit of extra salience by coming from a film made very, very far outside the American studio system.
ZERO IS IN UK CINEMAS 25 JULY & ON DIGITAL PLATFORMS 11 AUGUST

