The Festival du nouveau cinéma de Montréal (FNC) came to a close on Sunday, October 20. The big winner of the International Critics’ Prize was the beautiful Cu Li Never Cries (Cu Li Không Bao Giờ Khóc) by Vietnamese director Phạm Ngọc Lân. But in addition to this prize, I absolutely had to highlight—perhaps, in part, for personal reasons—two other outstanding films from the magnificent selection that our jury was invited to discover: Ghosts of the Sea (Les Enfants du Large) by Virginia Tangvald and Who Do I Belong To (Là d’où l’on vient) by Meryam Joobeur.
Based on the book of the same name, Ghosts of the Sea is a poignant, introspective documentary that traces a personal quest deeply marked by the sea and prompted by a family tragedy. Writer-director Virginia Tangvald, daughter of famous navigator Peter Tangvald, sets out in search of traces of her father and his family, whose lives were swallowed up by the ocean. This journey, both geographical and emotional, takes us to the four corners of the globe, from Bonaire to Puerto Rico, via Toronto and French Guiana, retracing a true maritime family odyssey.
The film is distinguished by its intimate, melancholy tone, as the author pieces together a family history marked by loss and survival at sea. The shipwreck that took the lives of her father and sister, followed by the death of her brother, the sole survivor, adds a tragic dimension to this investigation. Through archival footage, photos, sea stories, and sublime seascapes, the documentary explores not only the narrator’s roots, but also her family’s complex and ambivalent relationship with the sea, which is regarded as both refuge and death trap.
The filmmaking, imbued with poetry and respect for these lives dedicated to the oceans, gives way to a reflection on memory, heritage, and the weight of those absent. The sea, omnipresent in the story, becomes both a central character and a metaphor for the quest for self: infinite, unpredictable, and often merciless. By immersing herself in this universe in search of her origins, the author offers us a reflection on how family tragedies shape our lives.
Tangvald’s first feature is a deeply moving documentary, combining the beauty of seascapes with a touching human depth. It tells indeed a story of grief, resilience and self-discovery, while exploring the unbreakable ties that bind a family to the ocean. A captivating and moving journey, inside and out, that lingers with you long after viewing.
Who Do I Belong To is a film of rare emotional power, delving into the intimate drama of a family devastated by the consequences of fanaticism and war. After the success of her short film Brotherhood, also presented at the FNC, director Meryam Joobeur succeeds with this first feature in capturing the silent pain of Aïcha, a stoic mother deeply wounded by the departure of her two sons, who left for Syria to join a jihadist militia.
The film stands out for its ability to capture the complexity of Aïcha’s emotions: between the tenuous hope of a return and resignation in the face of absence, Joobeur depicts with touching sensitivity the weight of grief and silence within the family.
Joobeur’s direction is masterful, with strikingly beautiful, almost dreamlike images that evoke both the tranquility of the Tunisian countryside and the muted violence eating away at the family from within. Far from being a simple family drama, the film tackles universal and tragically contemporary themes: religious fanaticism, the manipulation of young minds, and the war that tears lives apart.
The film’s dreamlike, supernatural aspect adds symbolic depth to this tragedy, suggesting that Aïcha’s pain and quest for hope are transcended by forces greater than herself. This artistic choice lends the film an almost mystical dimension, where reality and dream intertwine to express the unspeakable.
All in all, Joobeur’s film is poignant and deeply human, depicting the personal and familial impact of terrorism from a rarely explored angle. Thanks to the meticulous direction and and intense performances, Who Do I Belong To is a captivating experience, both intimate and universal, that leaves no one indifferent.
Constant Carbonnelle
Edited by José Teodoro
© FIPRESCI 2024