FIFO 2025. Nunë Luepak and Ben Salama are respectively a jury member and president of the FIFO. The former is Kanak, the latter Franco-Algerian. Both have worked together on the documentary Saint-Louis, une histoire calédonienne, where Ben Salama was co-director and Nunë Luepak worked on the production. From this collaboration, a friendship developed between the two philosophers, each with their distinct sensitivities.

Nunë is a colorful character who defines himself by his customary status.
“In my culture, it’s rare for us to speak using ‘I’. When we talk about ourselves, we say ‘we’ because we speak for our community. So, I am Nunë Luepak, I belong to the Luepakö clan, which belongs to a chieftaincy and to the land, which is the island of Drehu (Lifou – Ed.),” says the father of two daughters.

Ben, on the other hand, while fond of the words roots and identity, prefers they be used in the plural.
“When you reduce your identity to a single one, that scares me. I have multiple identities. First, because I was born in the Kabyle mountains of Algeria, I grew up there running barefoot in the mountains. After independence, I experienced the big city of Algiers where I did my studies. Then, I became French when I moved to France. So I have several roots, several identities. I’m like a tree that’s transported with its roots and ends up growing others. For me, one identity cannot be subtracted from another; that’s what gives it richness,” says the newly minted grandfather.

Two authentic visions of identity. Nunë is deeply attached to his Kanak land, while Ben is in love with his homelands, his Kabyle mountains, Algeria, and France. It is with their convictions and their perceptions of identity that they fuel their audiovisual projects.

Nunë grew up on the main island, near Bourail in Néméara, situated between the tribe and the village.
At the time, his only connection to the outside world was through the small screen, but the child from Lifou couldn’t relate.
“When I watched TV, I didn’t see Kanak culture. It wasn’t the reality of what I was living outside of the screen. When I went to school in the village or to the tribe in Pötê, those were different worlds, different realities, and they spoke different languages,” recalls the producer.

This cultural shock pushed Nunë to stand up for his people.
“What really drove me was to talk about those silences, about things that we didn’t see on screen, things we didn’t talk about, that is, us, the Kanaks. That’s where the world of cinema comes in. It’s a world that aligns quite well with the Kanak world because in that silence, only the image speaks,” says the one who studied cinema in Paris.

As for Ben, rich in his cultural heritage, he is driven by intellectual and human curiosity.
“It’s extraordinary to meet different realities, to meet men and women who have something to teach you intellectually, emotionally, and culturally. It’s wonderful,” says the current jury president.

Sensitive to everything around him, Ben enjoys stepping off the beaten path and going on new discoveries.

Giving a voice to those who do not have one.

On the other hand, Nunë, faithful to his values and his land, prefers to address issues specific to his culture.
He recalls: “As a child, I was greatly affected by the image of myself presented on television. I couldn’t recognize myself in that image. When we talk about a land of sharing, a land of respect and humility, what was shown on TV was not at all what we were living every day.” He continues: “On my small scale, I try to make the world understand how the Kanak way of life functions.”

Conveying messages, giving voices, speaking silences, and freeing speech — that’s what excites Ben and Nunë.
With Saint-Louis, une histoire calédonienne, that is exactly what Ben Salama and Nunë Luepak bring to light. Nunë recalls: “Ben Salama and Thomas Marie, the co-directors, came to my place and asked me if I wanted to work with them. I remember what Ben told me: ‘In France, we always hear about Saint-Louis, but we don’t hear it. The young people on the barricades, we don’t hear them speak, and we don’t understand why.’ He asked me: ‘Who are these young people? We don’t see them except on the barricades. The ones who are involved, we don’t hear them speak.'”

And Ben adds: “Indeed, we don’t hear the young people on the barricades, but we don’t hear the young people who live in Saint-Louis and don’t participate in the barricades either. We’re speaking about them from a journalistic standpoint.”

The approach resonates with young Kanaks. Together, they decide to give a voice to the young people of the Saint-Louis tribe. It was a long and difficult task, but it proved fruitful since Ben and Thomas were the first to enter the tribe with cameras. “Today, even after the riots in May 2024, I believe we should not change our perspective on these young people. The frustration that sometimes expresses itself through violence exists, but that’s not all. There are young people who express themselves normally with claims and young people who want to pursue their studies, not just in Saint-Louis but in other tribes as well. That’s what should be remembered,” insists the man from Algeria.

With humility, the two men explain why creating documentaries is vital: “It’s a noble art. It allows us to convey emotions, messages, and give a voice to those who do not have one.”

Jenny Hunter