In Night of the Kings, the prison becomes a theater, and survival hangs on the power of a tale. Philippe Lacôte crafts a visually haunting and politically rich fable set in La MACA, a real penitentiary in the Ivorian jungle ruled by its own inmates and their ironclad codes.

A young newcomer is chosen by the prison boss to become the “Roman”, the storyteller, on the night of the red moon. His task is simple but deadly: narrate a story that lasts until dawn—or face fatal consequences. What follows is a vibrant blend of myth, oral tradition, political allegory, and raw prison tension. The film pulses with rhythm, music, and gesture, as the inmates become part audience, part performers, dancing between fiction and violence.

This isn’t just a story within a story; it’s a cinematic ritual. The “Roman” invents an epic that interweaves West African history, magic realism, and the legacy of civil conflict. The inmates’ reactions shape the storytelling in real time, blurring the line between narration and negotiation.

Shot with lush, warm tones and choreographed like a piece of living folklore, Night of the Kings elevates oral tradition to high cinema. Its influence lies somewhere between One Thousand and One Nights and Lord of the Flies, but deeply rooted in African griot culture.

This is a film about power, myth, and the desperate magic of language. In a world where politics and violence have stripped people of agency, words still offer escape—if only for a night. With bold stylistic choices and a hypnotic atmosphere, Night of the Kings is a rare and poetic exploration of storytelling as survival, resistance, and reinvention.