31/01/2024 - Marcelo Gomes tells the story of an escape from Lebanon to Brazil by way of a black and white drama interweaving passion, memory and desire

The title of Marcelo Gomes’ new film, presented in the IFFR’s Big Screen Competition, is Portrait of a Certain Orient [+see also:
interview: Marcelo Gomes
film profile], which is an adaptation of Milton Hatoum’s novel of the same name, telling the story of two Lebanese nationals (brother and sister Emir and Emily) who are fleeing to Brazil to escape the war. Over the course of their long journey aboard a ship, Emily (Wafa'a Celine Halawi), who comes from the Christian area of Lebanon, falls in love with Muslim trader Omar (Charbel Kamel), to the fury of her brother Emir (Zakaria Al Kaakour). As per the title, the film explores the idea of a certain Orient, a stereotyped idea of a place which entrenches itself in our minds and is hard to dislodge. Much like the perennial conflicts which rage between the different religions and which imply that peaceful cohabitation between Christians and Muslims is an impossible dream. It’s the character of Emir, in this instance, who plays the central role, as he struggles to move beyond the trauma caused by the death of his parents at the hands of Muslim militias in the Lebanese civil war of 1949, and who brings his past along with him to Brazil.

In this sense, the Orient becomes undefined, a now far-off country which should be left behind in order to invent a new life abroad. And whilst, in some respects, Emily, who doesn’t want to leave Lebanon in the first place, represents hope and a happy ending, Emir is there to remind viewers that, very often, the lives of those who leave their homeland following collective traumas like war or famine will forever be affected by their experience, no matter how welcoming the host country. One of the most interesting aspects of Gomes’ film, shot in classic black and white, is the blossoming passion between Emily and Omar, the forging of a new bond which gives life to something else, transforming Brazil into a utopia, a promised land where people are free to love whomever they want. The film’s central sequence, which is set in the heart of Amazonia, nonetheless hints at the danger of idealising this welcoming country, whose indigenous peoples are forced to fight against speculation by those who are keen to take over their lands.

Portrait of a Certain Orient is a classic melodrama whose film language doesn’t interfere excessively with the story at hand, except for a few highly symbolic moments where Gomes shows insects struggling frenetically and senselessly in the wilds of nature. It’s almost a view from up high of human beings’ continual movements, as they fight for survival and run away from death (either their own or that of their loved ones) which constantly hangs over their present. This “certain” Orient becomes a “certain” idea of a life story, constructed by way of images taken by an Italian photographer who was also making his way to Manaus and who succeeded in immortalising the happiest moments of Emir and Emily’s lives, shared with us via a flashback in the final sequence. These images are a way of reconstructing a dignified memory, which manages to explore the legitimate notion that leaving one’s country for something new and better is synonymous with openness and courage.

As was the case with Joaquim [+see also:
film review
trailer
film profile] in 2017, Marcelo Gomes seems more interested in how his characters react to history than history itself. We don’t learn much about the civil war in Lebanon or the socio-economic conditions affecting Brazil in the ‘40s while watching Portrait of a Certain Orient, but we do learn about the effects these events had on the characters’ lives, and we come to understand them by way of intuition. And that’s the power of cinema.

Portrait of a Certain Orient is produced by Brazilian firms Matizar Filmes, Gullane Filmes, Misti Filmes, Bubbles Project, Muiraquitã Filmes and Kavac Film. Brazil's O2 Play will be managing sales.

(Translated from Italian)