«Capharnaüm»: between despair and frustration

Cinema Wednesdays - Hélène Lavoyer

At around twelve, Zain runs away from home after his father and mother agree to give their eleven-year-old daughter, Sahar, to their landlord. But the streets through which the «little man» wanders are nothing, nothing like those we walk here in Switzerland. Firstly, because these are the streets of Beirut (Lebanon), not those of Berne, Biel or Lausanne. The streets of Beirut are made up of low-roofed buildings, with fabric or metal doors padlocked with chains, and on the doorsteps of which stand the neighbors, the comrades in misery.

With no papers and nothing but his disgust for a life that has spared him neither poverty nor hunger, little Zain al-Haaj, with his frail body and huge black eyes, manages to find enough to eat and never seems to stop putting one step in front of the other. Until he meets Rahil, an undocumented Ethiopian woman and her two-year-old son, Yonas. This is the beginning of a reciprocal relationship of protection and care, a semblance of stability and a hint of tenderness that cannot survive the streets of Beirut, forced precariousness, smugglers, hunger, the need for money and powdered milk.

«Kfar. The village. »Nahum. The consolation. So was baptized a small fishing village in what we call the ancient province of Judea (now West Bank and Israeli territory). A place Jesus had visited. A village of consolation by virtue of its name, but one that eventually disappeared from today's geographical maps - a fact that can also be seen as a sign of grace, given the situation in these dry lands with their extreme temperatures.

Why talk about the etymology of the word, why discuss the city that is no more, when we're talking about a film? Well, because perhaps the director should have considered the irony of this etymology for her film, which is its antonym. But a «capharnaüm» is also a big mess, a place where everything and anything is piled up and superimposed. For sure, a Swiss will find Beirut disorganized from its streets to its inhabitants. In Capharnaüm, yet there's not much luck to be found, and not much hope, so to speak.

A film like this is not intended to convey hope. But what is its purpose? Two hours of misery that we can neither share nor imagine, and which blows our minds with the daily images of refugee life. around the world, It's enough to make you feel depressed and suffocate you with a sense of powerlessness.

Nadine Labaki's script is teeming with events and diverse players. The good thing is that each of these characters brings something to the table, playing a role that allows us to better understand the complexity of life as a mother, brother, undocumented worker or smuggler when you're Syrian in Lebanon (or elsewhere). But the other side of the coin is gradually revealed.

First of all, there are these two children, Zain and Yonas (indistinguishable from their real identities, Zain al-Rafeea and Boluwatife Treasure Bankole), whose role is not a role at all, raising the question of the pity and morality of making children play such roles, or of making adults bear responsibility for the misery of their descendants. «Capharnaüm»: A place where objects are in large numbers and in disarray. The definition of the word is just as appropriate for the title as it is for describing the scenario. Which is not a flaw. And then there are the twists and turns that expose the causal link between their situations and our Western governments, showing us that nothing is black and white.

Have a look Capharnaüm, will leave you breathless. Go and lash your hearts and eyes with the whip of the world's misery, brought to life even more vividly by fiction with a step in the realm of reality. Go because this misery must be borne by all, and after the screening, a feeling of gratitude will overcome you. And perhaps, when the opportunity arises to reach out to a «stranger», you'll do so with a different awareness.

Write to the author : helene.lavoyer@leregardlibre.com

Photo credit: © Sony Pictures Classics