21/05/2024 - CANNES 2024: The French filmmaker talks about his intense new film, set in the wake of an illegal immigrant in Paris, and awaiting the verdict on his asylum application

(© Fabrizio de Gennaro/Cineuropa)

Highly acclaimed in the Un Certain Regard programme at the 77th Cannes Film Festival, The Story of Souleymane [+see also:
film review
interview: Boris Lojkine
film profile] is the 3rd feature film by French director Boris Lojkine.

Cineuropa: Your first film Hope [+see also:
film review
trailer
interview: Boris Lojkine
film profile] explored the migratory journey to Europe, and here the migrant is on the streets of Paris. Why this other side of the subject?
Boris Lojkine: At the time of Hope, as the film stopped at the moment when the heroine sees the lights of Europe ahead of her, everyone asked me what happened afterwards and if I didn't want to make a film about the sequel. I resisted the idea because I'm not really into making films in Paris; I like to shoot at the ends of the earth, and for a film to be a far-flung adventure. But what really attracted me to this project was the idea of a delivery boy on a bicycle. It seemed to me an incredible cinematic tool for capturing the energy of someone who is always on the move. From there, I very quickly realised, by meeting and interviewing delivery drivers at length to really grasp the ins and outs of their lives, the unwritten laws of this universe, that for almost all of them, the main condition is the question of obtain residency paper, and the film links that with the question of applications to become a delivery driver. The two are linked: between 50% and 80% of bicycle delivery drivers in Paris are undocumented, in other words they work under someone else's identity, as we see in the film. And the only way to obtain papers is political asylum. That's what my Guinean character is trying to get.

The plot is a real countdown over just under three days.
I really wanted to make a film that develops over a short period of time. I was thinking a lot about Romanian cinema, and I have a huge admiration for Cristian Mungiu's 4 Months, 3 Weeks, 2 Days [+see also:
film review
trailer
interview: Cristian Mungiu
interview: Oleg Mutu
film profile] or, in a completely different genre, the Safdie brothers' films. I wanted the film to be energetic and fast-paced, which fits in perfectly with the character of the delivery man on his bike. On the other hand, the fact that it's a film over a short period of time also allows us to take an interest in the little details of everyday life. Because we're almost in real time, we can follow his every move, which goes hand in hand with my desire for realism.

In this short space of time, all the facets of Souleymane's life are nevertheless covered: his complicated daily life and his obsessive quest for asylum, but also the ‘off-screen’ of his previous life in his country of origin with Facetime calls.
It was important to have an intimate dimension to the character and this comes through a lot in the phone calls to his mum and to his girlfriend, who becomes an ex. That's why he's not a generic character, a migrant or an asylum seeker: he's Souleymane with his own personal story, a love story that you don't necessarily expect from this kind of character in a social film where we describe his working conditions and his administrative situation. This gives him a human face that is not victim-like, because he too is capable of making a decision, even during these days that are very complicated for him.

Lying is also a central theme of the film.
It's part of these lives to have to lie all the time and to have an identity that's like a millefeuille. When you have to live under a false identity, work under a false identity, apply for papers with a false story, you can't even necessarily tell your friends the whole truth about everything. You can never be completely yourself, and that's one of the major psychological difficulties, over and above the material difficulties that obviously exist, such as exploitation, the problem of housing, etc.

Were you careful to avoid Manichaeism in the characters who cross Souleymane's path?
It was important that there was no villain in the story. The person interviewing him for asylum is someone who has empathy but is bound by the rules of her institution. The police are a bit stupid, but they're not violent racists. All we've got is a bastard restaurant owner that I play the part of and a troublesome customer that my daughter plays, but even they have their reasons.

(Translated from French by Margaux Comte)