The film centres on the brief occupation of Timbuktu, Mali by Ansar Dine, and is partially influenced by the 2012 public stoning of an unmarried couple in Aguelhok.
Upon reaching Timbuktu, a city known for its tolerant interpretation of Islam, the jihadists impose strict clothing regulations, critiquing the length of pant legs and mandating burkas, gloves, and stockings for women in public.
Despite armed enforcement, when the foreigners enter a local mosque wearing shoes, the Imam diplomatically rebukes their rules and dismisses them.
Beyond Timbuktu, a family resides in a nomad's tent: the father Kidane, mother Satima who eschews veiling, their daughter Toya, and adopted son Issan.
Meanwhile, the jihadists tighten their grip on the city, shooting propaganda videos, patrolling for music enthusiasts, and discussing football fervently.
Seeking empathy, he highlights his daughter's plight to the jihadist judge, assuming shared ethnic ties due to language.
[13] They are also observed to be less knowledgeable and secure in their convictions; they do not know how to respond when a woman is found singing, but in praise of Allah, nor when local men play football with an imaginary ball.
The traditional ways of life are interspersed with the modern, such as characters, even the nomadic Tuareg in the desert, communicating by mobile phones; the jihadists recording propaganda with a camera and lamp.
The film, Sissako's fifth, was inspired by the true story of a young, unmarried couple, who were stoned to death by Islamists in Aguelhok, a rural region in eastern Mali.
Sissako originally wanted to make a film about slavery in Mauritania, but this storyline was deemed unacceptable by the country's president, Mohamed Ould Abdel Aziz.
Sissako agreed to instead make a film on jihadists, with the support of the Mauritanian government, who provided financial and human resources to the filmmaker.
The website's critical consensus reads: "Gracefully assembled and ultimately disquieting, Timbuktu is a timely film with a powerful message.
[18][19] Jay Weissberg of Variety writes: "In the hands of a master, indignation and tragedy can be rendered with clarity yet subtlety, setting hysteria aside for deeper, more richly shaded tones.