A border is just a line on a map, and a fence is a simple structure. In today’s world, it’s not only laws that dictate movement across land, but also the financial power behind it. Claire Denis explores this complex reality in her latest film, The Fence (or Le Cri des Gardes). The film dives deep into themes of post-colonialism and the tensions surrounding sexuality, all while presenting a thought-provoking narrative.
The story centers on Horn (Matt Dillon), a foreman working in an unnamed West African country. After a workplace accident leads to a fat insurance payout, he’s ready to leave the job behind. But things take a turn when Alboury (Isaach de Bankolé) arrives, determined to retrieve his murdered brother’s body from the construction site. Alboury is calm and resolute, a stark contrast to Horn, who is anxious and unsure. Instead of accepting a cash offer like others before him, Alboury stands firm, demanding dignity for his brother.
As the night unfolds, Horn’s girlfriend Leonie (Mia McKenna-Bruce) arrives, complicating matters further. Alboury’s dismissive remarks about her suggest a deeper commentary on relationships and power dynamics. The film paints a vivid picture of jealousy and financial motives, which complicate Horn and Leonie’s connection.
The screenplay, based on Bernard-Marie Koltès’ play Black Battles with Dogs, features long monologues that can slow the pacing. While this doesn’t always serve the actors well, Denis’ talent ensures that the film’s themes resonate. The dialogue, though sometimes heavy, unearths deeper truths about exploitation and value within the capitalistic framework.
The film critiques Western perceptions and actions in Africa, highlighting the stark contrast between financial value and human life. At one point, Horn offers Alboury $150 for his brother’s remains, an amount that feels paltry yet unfathomable to him. Alboury’s quiet resistance becomes a haunting presence that disrupts Horn’s plans and self-perception.
Interestingly, recent data shows that many Western companies continue to benefit from exploitative practices in developing nations, further reinforcing the film’s message. According to a 2022 report by the United Nations, about 60% of African wealth is extracted by foreign entities, often leaving local communities in poverty. This report underscores the themes of The Fence, making its depiction of economic disparity and moral ambiguity feel even more urgent.
As the night progresses, tensions rise, particularly between Cal (Tom Blyth) and Horn, revealing deeper issues related to guilt and complicity. Blyth’s performance stands out, capturing the internal conflict that plagues many involved in these systems. However, Leonie’s role often feels secondary, which can detract from her potential impact as a character.
Denis excels at crafting visual stories, although The Fence takes a more straightforward approach compared to her previous works. This adherence to the source material may dilute some of the absurdist elements present in her earlier films. Nonetheless, the film serves as a powerful critique of Western moral failings, standing firm much like Alboury, who demands justice and recognition.
Overall, The Fence offers a poignant exploration of boundaries — both literal and metaphorical — that exist in our global society today.


















