As a piece of metafictional drama, Philippe Lacôte’s Night of the Kings delivers a wholly unique spin on the power of storytelling, weaving a story within a story that’s characterized by Shakespearean turns and prison-palace intrigue. Deep in the first of Côte d’Ivoire’s Abidjan lies “La Maca” prison. There, the inmates run the asylum.

Led by an ailing slab of man known as “Blackbeard” (Steve Tientcheu), prisoners and guards both are subject to the customs of La Maca. On the eve of a “Blood Moon”, a new arrival lands at La Maca and is renamed “Roman” (Bakary Koné) and given the role of storyteller. As the Blood Moon throws the prison into a shambolic state, Roman must tell a story, weaving fact, fiction, and myth, lest he face deadly consequences.

An allegorical fantasy, Night of the Kings celebrates African oral traditions by creating a new one. Lacôte, who wrote and directed, borrows fantastical elements, injecting supernatural myths into ground-level criminal realism for a weird mashup that works in spite of its narrative buckling every now and then. The result feels refreshingly unique, if at times a tad jumbled and chaotic, that slams together oral histories and modern filmmaking.

Man and myth intersect and collide and we are never truly certain how much of Roman’s story – about renowned criminal and friend Zamma King – is pure invention, metaphorical flourish, or factual account. Though the film suffers at the hands of some sketchy visual effects (it’s a pity how jarring they are), these failings do not shake the underlying novelty of shifting how traditional stories can be told.

One of the things that feels so unique about Lacôte’s creation is how he combines filmmaking, improvisation, music, and magical realism. As Roman tells a story, his audience of prisoners break in to act scenes out or sing a verse in perfect harmony. These moments feel like a flashmob or improv show, the prisoners a participating choir yes-anding each other. It’s strange and delightful and at times used to perfect effect, wringing out both the joyful and utterly bleak elements of this prison drama and making it feel totally different. That Roman remains a bit of a nothing character – his past, present, and future as indeterminable as the fables he dictates – is disappointing though, as Lacôte cannot quite get a grasp on characterization.

There are betrayals, shaken hierarchies, tribal warfare, and plenty of blood spilled in this telling and though it doesn’t all necessarily add up to something greater than the sum of its parts by the final frame, Lacôte’s tactics remain fascinating nonetheless. An emergent voice, Lacôte is on to something here, even if it’s not entirely realized. The performances he musters from his unknown cast is fine, if nothing of note, but it’s the raw feral energy and inventive abandon with which he tells Night of the Kings that makes him such an intriguing prospect behind the camera. He’s certainly one to keep an eye on, particularly as he becomes privy to a larger budget and more star power.

CONCLUSION: ‘Night of the Kings’ challenges what a film can be, using African traditions of oral storytelling to create an often spellbinding – if not entirely complete – story about, well, stories.