Tori and Lokita (Tori et Lokita)

 

Directors Luc and Jean-Pierre Dardenne

TORI AND LOKITA (Tori et Lokita)                       B                                                         Belgium  France  (88 mi)  2022  d: Luc and Jean-Pierre Dardenne

The only thing worse than sex-trafficking, as depicted in Lukas Moodysson’s Lilya 4-Ever (Lilja 4-ever) (2003), is the human trafficking of immigrant refugees seeking a better life, who are surrounded only by vultures looking for a way to exploit their desperation, becoming a modern day slavery system, where in each case they’re valued only as human cargo worth dollar signs, viewed as subhuman, treated in the most despicable manner, where even the larger society around them perceives them as utterly worthless, as there’s a war being waged on refugees and immigrants worldwide.  It’s a sorry state of human affairs, and this plays out more like a horror film, a throwback to that caged-in feeling of ROSETTA (1999).  Ralph Ellison wrote about the invisibility of blacks in his breakthrough existential novel Invisible Man in 1952, but that same feeling applies to immigrants living on the margins in total darkness, unseen by the surrounding world that never give them a second thought, as they may as well not exist.  The Dardenne brothers are Belgium filmmakers who began their careers making documentaries about labor problems and social issues before turning to make feature films defined by their naturalistic aesthetic of social realism, yet their focus has always been on inequality in society and the sufferings of the poor.   This film looks at the plight of migrants in Europe, a theme also addressed in two recent Aki Kaurismäki films, Le Havre (2011) and The Other Side of Hope (Toivon tuolla puolen) (2017), where they seem to fall through the cracks, not really taken care of by the state, instead they are stuck in a desolate no man’s land territory, drawn into illegal activity to pay debts and send desperately needed money back home, subjects of prey from an omnipresent criminal element that exploits their precarious vulnerability.  Tori (Pablo Schils) and Lokita (Joely Mbundu) are two young African migrants in Belgium played by non-professionals.  Tori, who is about 11, is from Benin and has documents that allow him to stay in Belgium, but he lost his parents in the perilous journey to Europe where he met 16-year old Lokita, who was herself smuggled out of Cameroon so she could send money to her family back home.  They have developed an unwavering friendship, having only each other, as otherwise they are all alone in the world.  The utter absurdity of their situation is that Lokita is subject to deportation, and will only be allowed to stay if she can prove she is Tori’s sister, so the two of them rehearse their stories before the immigration authorities about where they’re from and how they lost their parents, but of course, they don’t have a single document to prove they are related.  When a DNA test is proposed, TORI AND LOKITA - EXCLUSIVE CLIP - YouTube  (1:31), they’ve run out of options, leaving only desperate alternatives.     

While there are other films on the subject told in a variety of styles, like Hubert Sauper’s We Come As Friends (2014), Wim Wenders’ documentary 2015 Top Ten List #4 The Salt of the Earth (2014), Jacques Audiard’s Dheepan (2015), or Joanna Kos-Krauze and Krzysztof Krauze’s Birds Are Singing in Kigali (Ptaki śpiewaja w Kigali) (2017), this one centers exclusively upon the character of the two young protagonists, as everyone else is a faceless entity, shot in the minimalist Dardenne style using a handheld camera from cinematographer Benoît Dervaux that casts an unflinching eye on their daily lives, scrutinizing the details of faces, gestures, and glances.  As the only blacks living in a sea of whites, they develop an intensely personal and profound friendship, allies in a struggle against brutal horrors, where they are exposed to a shady underworld of dangerous men who routinely take advantage of them.  Arguably the angriest Dardenne film, this pits the corrupted innocence of youth against the sociopathic indifference of adults who have no problem subjecting them to barbaric cruelty, accentuating the growing suffering in increasingly inhospitable settings, as it’s all about self-interest, where the tragic circumstances of these young lives are routinely overlooked, viewed as outcasts, where their lives are discarded in the blink of an eye, valued by an uncaring public as utterly worthless and inconsequential.  The struggle to stay alive is living under the pressure of constant threats, as everyone wants a piece of them, from the African gang that smuggled them out of Africa, continually terrorizing them for more money, to her family in Africa that needs more, to the Albanian criminal chef Betim (Alban Ukaj) who uses them to make his nightly drug deliveries.  Alternating between hope and fear, they make extra cash singing karaoke in the restaurant, Tori and Lokita / Tori et Lokita (2022) - Clip 1 (English subs) YouTube (51 seconds), while Lokita is also subjected to the humiliation of routine sexual assaults, where any payment received is viewed as a favor.  A very unpleasant watch, the traumatic and terrifying experience is even worse due to their young ages, yet what options do they have?  A devastating indictment of the immigration system and European democracy, as European countries have routinely shut their borders and doors, turning their backs on these young lives, utterly defenseless human beings who are preyed upon by criminals and lowlifes, a by-product of government cruelty and indifference.  Both happen to be extremely enterprising, where this is a story of an unbreakable friendship, putting a human face on meaningless numbers and statistics, where waves of migrants have been subjected to extreme violence and death, treated in the most inhumane and despicable manner, surrounded only by grim possibilities.     

The impetus for the story were newspaper articles the directors read about how many unaccompanied migrant children come on their own, with no parents, disappearing from emergency shelters and housing groups without a trace, exposing the extreme solitude that they live through, and the illnesses that result from their isolation from their families, concluding that they were falling into a crime and drug network, leading to tortures, and even assassinations of young teenagers, with so many of them ending up dead.  Unlike other Dardenne films, this one actually veers into thriller territory when Lokita is separated from her friend for three months and locked up as a prisoner in a dingy industrial warehouse that houses a secret illegal cannabis operation, framed as a high risk experience in order to receive forged documents, her phone taken from her so she can have no contact with the outside world, with food delivered once weekly, as she is given detailed instructions on how to properly care for these plants, where the irony is the plants are treated so much better than she is.  Distressed and alone, exacerbated by her growing sense of isolation, cut off from everything she knows, she is consumed by loneliness, deeply missing the companionship of her friend, at one point turning off the TV and simply staring at his image.  Tori feels the same way, with Betim expanding his role in running all his drug routes, an inconceivable job for such a young kid, where it’s easy to be taken advantage of on both ends, from the buyer and the seller, forcing Tori to hatch a plan, where the guts and sheer originality to carry off such an outlandish effort defies credibility, yet it’s driven by something we come to understand, as their loyalty and devotion to each other is unmistakable.  While their loving spirit should be rewarded and appreciated, the hardened Mafiosi men they’re dealing with have no interest in sentimentalities, as they’re void of any feelings whatsoever, where money is all that matters to them, a subject that was briefly touched upon in The Unknown Girl (La Fille Inconnue) (2016).  Despite keeping such a low profile, these two are living targets at every stage, having to endure moving from conflict to conflict, where the trials they face are staggering, with no friends or allies anywhere, only enemies who want to use them for their own unscrupulous schemes, while they stay safely in the background, using kids to carry out their criminal enterprise.  Descendants of European immigrants never had it easy, but they could find work and eventually become citizens.  That is not the case with Third World migrants of today in Europe, as they’re simply not offered the same opportunities, where the harrowing abuses of black working refugees in Western Europe are well documented (Are your tinned tomatoes picked by slave labour? | Italy, or Thousands of refugees and migrants suffer extreme rights ...), often living in close quarters packed inside small concrete huts covered with corrugated sheets, where the role of organized crime has only increased.  As a result, their lives are more likely to be short and tragic.  The Dardennes have created a moral drama that rages against social injustice, but its minimalist simplicity undermines any developing complexity, operating more on an emotional level, where viewers can identify with what’s happening to our struggling combatants and loathe the system that ignores their needs, but voters in countries around the world are increasingly growing fearful and following step in a lethal combination of xenophobia and nationalism, turning inward, thinking only of their own, vociferously rejecting outsiders like an invading plague. 

Atlantics (Atlantique)

Director and co-writer Mati Diop 

Mati Diop on the set with Claire Mathon behind the camera  

ATLANTICS (Atlantique)        B+               

France  Senegal  Belgium  (105 mi)  d: Mati Diop 

The niece of Senegalese director Djibril Diop Mambéty, Mati Diop is the actress playing the daughter in the utterly gorgeous Claire Denis film 2010 Top Ten Films of the Year: #1 35 Shots of Rum, expanding her own short film ATLANTIQUES (2009) to a full-length feature, becoming the first black woman in history invited to the Cannes Film Festival’s competition, awarded the Grand Prix (2nd Place) for her efforts.  Beautifully shot by cinematographer Claire Mathon, who also shot Céline Sciamma’s distinctively eloquent Portrait of a Lady On Fire (Portrait de la jeune fille en feu) (2019), both films were shot on separate continents, with this film balancing the devastation of a global migrant crisis driving men to sea in search of work from the shores of Africa to Spain while revealing the effect this has on the women at home waiting for them, becoming a haunting love story and a mythical portrait of female empowerment filled with supernatural spirits seeking to avenge the economic injustice that drives the central narrative, while at the same time Diop accentuates the cultural traditions of Senegalese cinema through the inventions of uncommon visual motifs of mysticism, where a modernist strain is part of Senegal’s post-independence legacy.  Unfortunately, Netflix picked up the distribution rights to the film, which means more people will watch this film on television, even their smart phones, and other small-screen venues instead of theaters that glorify the magnificent colors in Africa.  As in her previous film short, A THOUSAND SUNS (2013), Diop opens the film with a tribute to her uncle’s legendary African film TOUKI BOUKI (1973) as a herd of cattle are seen being led through the busy streets of Dakar (with one young man in the dust wearing an Eastern Chicago tee-shirt, something that doesn’t exist, yet a reminder that the black market will sell you anything), offering the perspective of ordinary Africans in Senegal, quickly eying a group of young men working on a scaffold of a major development project, viewed from a distance as a giant futuristic skyscraper (digitalized) soaring high above the rest.  It’s here we’re introduced to Souleiman (Ibrahim Traoré), just one of the many construction workers who have gone several months without pay, lining up at the office for what promises to be the first paycheck in three months, but once again they are left emptyhanded.  Watching them all disperse, sitting in the back of trucks on the long journey back home, the look of disgust on their faces is evident.  

 

The film quickly shifts to the lives of young Senegalese women, one in particular, 17-year old Ada (Mame Bineta Sané), an especially beautiful middle-class girl who meets Souleiman, their eyes transfixed, both madly in love, finding a solitary space, locked in each other’s arms, whispering sweet nothings, Souleiman is unsettled by the circumstances at work, yet offers her his necklace that he wears, and while he seems on the verge of telling her something important, she scampers off in the moonlight, loving him unconditionally, expecting to see him later that night, yet her devout Islamic family has arranged for her to be married to Omar (Babacar Sylla), the overprivileged son of a wealthy businessman in just ten days.  Seemingly unconcerned by this dilemma, she sneaks out of her bedroom heading for a late night beachside dance club where many of her girlfriends are joining other boys from the construction crew, all dressed up for the occasion, with the director capturing the giddy camaraderie of young girls in the throes of love, where this matters above all else, holding each other close, sharing passionate kisses and taking long walks along the beach.  But when she arrives the place is empty, with no boys in sight, where the girls are heartbroken to learn that Souleiman joined a group of others to set sail on a small boat for the shores of Spain in search of jobs.  The film eloquently reveals the stark economic differences between the casual realities of the rich, spoiled by a largesse of riches while consumed by luxury, and the world of the underprivileged who are willing to risk it all and face unspeakable dangers, with the young lovers struggling to find their place in the world.  This economic desperation has plagued young African men for generations, where the rolling sea is a constant presence in the film, as if beckoning a life of freedom and prosperity if crossed, yet young Africans still drown packed together in rickety boats trying to cross the Straits of Gibraltar to Europe every day, which is apparently what happens here, as they receive no word from the men, with reports that their boat capsized leaving them all dead.  This is literally a cry of despair, rooted in the economic desperation of ordinary men seeking a better life, with tragic results.  Stunned by the revelations, Ada is devastated, yet she becomes the central focus of the film, subject to the customs of an Islamic marriage in West Africa, leading to a glamorous wedding celebration that spares no expense, lavishly decorated in an upscale hotel, with all the girls taking selfies on the oversized opulence of the white wedding bed, yet Ada, dressed immaculately in white as well, shows little interest.  While others eat, drink, and get carried away by the lavish décor, she basically sleepwalks through the whole proceedings, showing disinterest, almost as if she’s not there, but her body goes through the motions, but she quickly exits prematurely, as a fire in the hotel (igniting at that wedding bed) sends everyone scrambling out into the street in panic mode.

Ada is initially viewed as an accomplice, with Issa (Amadou Mbow), a young police detective, becoming obsessed with her guilt, believing Souleiman is somehow behind it, with rumors that he returned, reportedly seen by others, but there is no evidence.  Instead Diop starts introducing uncommon aspects to the film, as the detective starts suffering from heat stroke, sweating uncontrollably, barely able to breathe, while the widows of the lost men start showing up on the doorstep of the wealthy construction owner, Mr. Ndiaye (Diankou Sembene), demanding their money, given ghostly configurations, as if visiting from the spirit world, yet their haunting presence spooks the owner, unaware of what to think, caught completely off-guard.  This film pays respect to Islamic customs and beliefs, which includes a local belief in djinn, spirits that can take human form, but they possess unworldly powers.  This love story leads to a police investigation that takes a strange turn, as suddenly those involved start suffering from inexplicable maladies as they pursue the case, veering into the supernatural, succumbing to forces greater than their own, which remain an unexplained mystery that continues throughout the film.  Suffused with melancholy, with most of the scenes shot at night, Diop never loses sight of the prevailing cultural views in Senegal, where Ada remains confined and restricted by a society that limits her freedom, with Omar’s family subjecting her to a “virginity test,” questioning whether she is worthy of their son, making sure she will not bring unwanted “shame” into the family.  While she passes the test, she jettisons Omar and his family arrogance from her life, refusing to have anything to do with him, as her heart still belongs to Suleiman.  But Ada’s grief is not hers alone, as there’s a community of women who are dealing with the same thing, each one abandoned by love and fate.  Diop captures the emotional emptiness that comes with their absence, with swirling green lights passing over Ada’s face from the strobe light at the bar, mixing with Al Qadiri’s ethereal score, while static images are seen of the empty rooms once inhabited by the boys.  Paying particular attention to African youth, Ada mixes with more traditional friends, like the conservative, hijab-wearing Mariama (Mariama Gassama), while employed by a fiercely independent woman, the more liberated Dior (Nicole Sougou), as she ends up working as a barmaid at that beachside nightclub.  Among the more triumphant scenes is a long walk along the beach that Ada takes, evoking genuine sensuality with the poetic rhythms of the ocean, yet confirming her transition to a woman, claiming her own identity, empowered by a newly developing confidence in herself, boldly gazing straight into the camera, fully capable of living her life as she intends, effusing the film with a quietly seductive mystery.