Rocha's film intends to demonstrate the contradictions of imperialism in Africa and to reveal the dynamics of the revolutionary process, of struggle against it. It is filmed theatre, self-consciously and confessedly Brechtian in its method. Seventy rather stilted, second-hand tableaux dramatise relations between a stereotypic blonde goddess (imperialism), a grotesquely posturing Léaud as Catholicism, the CIA, a black bourgeois reformist politician, and their opposition, a classic Ché figure, an African militant, and 'the people'. Very didactic and banally filmed, it tends toward a condescending populism, a rip-off analysis that doesn't seem to stem from a strong engagement with the subject, despite the clarity/accuracy of the general argument. The signs have no life. JDuC.