Mati diop's Dahomey (2024): A film that makes restitution tangible

On February 24, 2024, the Berlin International Film Festival awarded its highest honour -- the Golden Bear -- to a documentary that begins with a crate. Not just any crate: a climate-controlled transport container holding a royal statue from the Kingdom of Dahomey, carved in the 19th century, looted by French soldiers in 1892, and now, 132 years later, finally coming home.

The film is Dahomey, and its director is Mati Diop, the French-Senegalese filmmaker whose debut feature Atlantics (2019) won the Grand Prix at Cannes. With Dahomey, Diop has done something remarkable: she has turned a political process -- the restitution of looted African art -- into a sensory, poetic, and deeply human story. The result is not just a film about objects. It is a film about what it means for a people to recover fragments of their own soul.

The film in one scene

The opening of Dahomey establishes its tone immediately. We are inside a dark warehouse. A wooden crate, stamped with shipping labels and handling instructions, sits in the half-light. The camera lingers. Then, a voice speaks -- a voice in Fon, the language of the Dahomey kingdom, filtered through the object itself.

You do not know me. You have never seen me. Yet I have been waiting for you.

This is the statue of King Glele, the 11th king of Dahomey, carved in wood and metal, looted from the royal palace of Abomey in 1892. In Diop's film, the statue narrates its own journey: from the palace fire, to a French colonial ship, to a museum storeroom in Paris, and now back to Benin. This narrative device -- giving voice to the object -- is not a gimmick. It is a philosophical statement. The statue is not an inert thing. It carries memory, presence, and a story that French museums never told.

What the documentary covers

Dahomey is a short documentary, running approximately 67 minutes, but it packs an extraordinary amount into its running time. The film follows 26 of the 26 royal treasures that France returned to Benin in November 2021 -- the first major restitution of looted African art by a former colonial power. These objects, which included statues of the Dahomey kings, royal thrones, ceremonial doors, and sacred artefacts, had been held by the Musee du Quai Branly -- Jacques Chirac in Paris since the French conquest of Dahomey.

The film has three distinct movements. The first follows the logistical operation of the return: the packing, the crating, the flights, the customs documentation, the arrival at the airport in Cotonou. Diop films these moments with the precision of a heist movie. The objects are handled by white-gloved conservators. They are X-rayed. They are wrapped in acid-free tissue. The bureaucratic machinery of restitution is surprisingly cinematic.

The second movement takes place in Abomey. The returned objects are displayed at the Palais des Congres in Cotonou, where thousands of Beninese citizens come to see them. Diop films the crowds: old women in vibrant pagnes, young students with smartphones, Vodoun priests in ceremonial robes. Some people weep. Others stare in silence. One elderly man touches the glass case and speaks to the statue in Fon. Welcome home, he says. Your children are here.

The third movement is the most controversial and the most important. Diop stages a debate among students at the University of Abomey-Calavi in Cotonou. The students argue passionately about what the restitution means. Some celebrate it as a historic victory. Others are sharply critical: 26 objects out of thousands, they point out, is not restitution. It is a gesture. Where is the rest? And who decided which objects came back? The students ask uncomfortable questions about whether France is controlling the narrative of restitution, returning only what it chooses, on its own terms.

This debate is the intellectual heart of the film. Diop does not resolve it. She lets the arguments stand. The students are not a Greek chorus providing wisdom; they are real young people grappling with a complex reality. Their anger is genuine. Their hope is genuine too. The tension between the two is the film's central drama.

Why the golden bear matters

The Golden Bear is the highest prize at the Berlin Film Festival, one of the three most prestigious film festivals in the world (alongside Cannes and Venice). Dahomey winning this award was significant for several reasons.

First, it marked the first time a documentary had won the Golden Bear in over a decade. Second, it was a recognition by one of the world's most important cultural institutions that the restitution debate is one of the defining cultural and political issues of our time. Third, it amplified the film's message to a global audience -- the kind of audience that might not otherwise encounter a 67-minute art documentary about colonial looting.

The jury, headed by Lupita Nyong'o, praised the film for its "poetic power" and its ability to "turn a political process into a sensory experience." Diop, in her acceptance speech, dedicated the award to the people of Benin and to all those fighting for the return of looted heritage. She also made a pointed remark about French museums: "Restitution is not a gift. It is a return."

Historical context: The 26 treasures

To understand the film, you need to understand what the 26 objects represent. In November 1892, French forces under Colonel Dodds sacked Abomey. They took everything of value they could carry: royal statues, ceremonial thrones, carved palace doors, royal sceptres, swords, and sacred altars. The objects were shipped to France and eventually deposited in the Musee du Quai Branly, where they were displayed as "African art" -- stripped of their names, their meanings, and their connection to the kingdom that created them.

For 129 years, Benin demanded their return. France refused, citing French laws that declared national museum collections inalienable. The objects, French officials said, legally belonged to France. They were part of the national heritage.

The tide began to turn in 2017, when French President Emmanuel Macron, speaking at the University of Ouagadougou in Burkina Faso, declared that African heritage should be returned to Africa. He commissioned a report by Felwine Sarr and Benedicte Savoy, which recommended the restitution of African objects held in French museums. In 2020, the French parliament passed a law specifically authorising the return of the 26 Dahomey treasures and a sword belonging to the 19th-century Senegalese resistance leader El Hadj Omar Tall.

On November 9, 2021, the 26 objects arrived in Cotonou. They were greeted by President Patrice Talon and thousands of citizens. The objects were exhibited at the Palais des Congres before being moved to their permanent home in the new Museum of the Kings of Abomey, currently under construction.

But the Sarr-Savoy report had identified tens of thousands of African objects in French museums. Only 26 came back. The gap between the promise of 2017 and the reality of 2021 is precisely what the students in Diop's film are angry about.

Film as philosophy: What does an object want?

What makes Dahomey more than a documentary is its philosophical ambition. Diop is not content to simply chronicle events. She wants to ask what restitution means -- not just politically, but metaphysically.

The film draws on the work of Senegalese philosopher Felwine Sarr, who co-authored the 2018 restitution report. Sarr argues that African objects in Western museums are not just misplaced; they are wounded. They were taken in contexts of violence, and their separation from their communities is a form of ongoing spiritual damage. Restitution, in this view, is not merely a legal transfer of ownership. It is a process of healing.

Diop translates this philosophy into cinema. When the statue of King Glele speaks, it is not speaking as a character in a fable. It is speaking as a witness. It describes the fire of 1892, the long silence of the museum storeroom, the disorientation of being packed and shipped again. The voice is calm, ancient, and slightly sad. It is the voice of a thing that has seen too much.

This technique echoes the film's deeper argument: that objects carry memory. That the statues of Dahomey are not art in the Western sense -- objects to be admired for their aesthetic qualities -- but rather vessels of presence, charged with spiritual and historical meaning. Returning them is not simply a matter of justice. It is a matter of restoring a relationship that was broken by violence.

The reception in Benin and abroad

Dahomey was warmly received in Benin. The film premiered in Cotonou in March 2024, and screenings were attended by government officials, museum directors, and members of the royal family of Abomey. For many Beninese, the film was a validation of their country's long campaign for restitution. It brought the story of the 26 treasures to an international audience in a way that no museum exhibition ever could.

Internationally, the film received strong reviews. The Guardian called it "a quiet masterpiece" and praised its "poetic, almost hypnotic quality." Variety described it as "a documentary that feels like a dream -- or a haunting." The New York Times noted that the film "transforms a political issue into a work of art that demands to be felt, not just understood."

Criticism of the film focused mainly on its brevity. Some reviewers argued that 67 minutes was not enough to fully explore the complexity of the restitution debate, and that the student debate section, while powerful, felt too short. Others questioned whether giving a voice to an object risked sentimentalising the issue. But these were minority views. The overwhelming consensus was that Dahomey was a landmark film -- a documentary that expanded the possibilities of what a documentary could be.

What dahomey means for visitors to Abomey

For anyone planning to visit Abomey, Dahomey is essential viewing -- ideally before you arrive. The film provides context that transforms a visit to the Royal Palaces from a sightseeing trip into something closer to a pilgrimage.

When you stand in the courtyard of the Musee Historique d'Abomey, you are standing in the same space where the 26 treasures were created and used. The bas-reliefs on the palace walls depict the same kings whose statues were returned. The film helps you understand that these are not just historical artefacts. They are living objects, still charged with the spiritual and political life of the kingdom.

The returned objects themselves are not currently on display in Abomey itself. They are housed at the Palais des Congres in Cotonou while the new Museum of the Kings of Abomey is under construction near the Royal Palaces. But the spirit of restitution -- the sense that something important has been recovered -- is palpable throughout the city. Local guides speak about the treasures with a mixture of pride and ongoing frustration. Twenty-six objects returned, they will tell you, is a beginning. It is not an end.

Frequently asked questions

What is the documentary Dahomey about?

Dahomey is a 2024 documentary by Mati Diop that follows 26 royal treasures as they are returned from France to Benin. It combines footage of their transport and exhibition with a student debate about restitution and a poetic first-person narration by the statue of King Glele.

Did Dahomey win the Golden Bear?

Yes. Dahomey won the Golden Bear, the top prize, at the 74th Berlin International Film Festival in February 2024. It was the first documentary to win the award in over a decade.

Where can I watch Dahomey?

Dahomey has been screened at film festivals worldwide and in select cinemas. It is distributed by Les Films du Losange. Check local listings for availability in your region.

What are the 26 Dahomey treasures?

The 26 treasures are royal objects looted from the Kingdom of Dahomey by French forces in 1892. They include statues of kings Glele and Behanzin, royal thrones, ceremonial doors, and sacred artefacts. They were returned to Benin in November 2021 after 129 years in French museums.

Who is Mati Diop?

Mati Diop is a French-Senegalese filmmaker and actress. Her debut feature Atlantics (2019) won the Grand Prix at Cannes. Dahomey (2024) is her second feature and won the Golden Bear at Berlin. She is known for films that blend political themes with poetic, sensory filmmaking.

Explore more

Dahomey is a film about one chapter in the larger story of restitution. To understand the full picture, explore our article on the Dahomey treasures restitution, which covers the history of the objects, the legal battle for their return, and what remains to be recovered. You can also visit our dark history of Dahomey hub for the broader context of colonial looting and cultural loss.

Planning a visit to Abomey? The how to visit Abomey guide covers everything from transport to guided tours, including information about the Musee Historique d'Abomey and the future Museum of the Kings of Abomey.