A Radical Exploration of Migration and Exile
There are films that depict migration, and then there are those that challenge the very notion of the word itself. 'Between Us the Sea' by Saïd Hamich Benlarbi firmly belongs to the latter category. This film does not focus on arrival or integration, nor does it follow the conventional narratives of loss and new beginnings. Instead, it delves into something far more radical: the concept of exile as an irreversible journey, a state where, as Benlarbi articulates in an interview, neither the past nor the present can truly exist.
From the very first scene, this notion unfolds. The setting is Marseille in 1990, a city that has always served as a transit point, a canvas of dreams. Nour, played by Ayoub Gretaa, arrives illegally from Morocco, navigating through petty crime, yet he does not fit the mold of a typical 'underdog.' Rather, he embodies someone who has already grasped that traditional, stereotypical categories fail to capture the complexities of existence; that both origin and future have become unstable coordinates.
Complex Relationships and Unconventional Narratives
As Nour encounters Serge and Noémie, the film pivots quietly yet irrevocably. Serge, portrayed by Grégoire Colin, is a policeman and husband, characterized by a mysterious tenderness, making him perhaps the most unconventional figure in law enforcement seen in recent cinema. He is not a guardian of order but a custodian of chaos and the unexpected, a seeker torn between desire and duty. Nour’s observation that ‘you are the craziest people in this world’ serves not as an insult but as an epiphany.
Noémie, played by Anna Mouglalis, defies the archetype of a classic femme fatale. Instead, she represents a quiet erosion, having endured years of silence and a precarious arrangement with a man who cannot truly desire her. Her encounter with Nour does not evolve into a mere affair; it signifies a reconfiguration of intimacy, bodies, and identity. What Benlarbi crafts from this is astonishingly surprising, leading to a love triangle that resists conventional definitions. There is no jealousy, no dramatic tension in the traditional sense. Instead, the storytelling is exploratory and fluid, keeping the characters in motion rather than defining them. Assimilation is presented not as a goal but as an ongoing negotiation. How does one live ‘mixed’? How does one love ‘mixed’? And most importantly, can one find happiness within this mixture?
The film refrains from providing answers, instead opting to show the complexity of these dynamics. Formally structured as a triptych—'Nour,' 'Serge,' 'Noémie'—the narrative perspective shifts continually, revealing layers of contradiction and complementarity. This structure serves less as a stylistic device and more as a manifestation of thought: identity here is never stable but relational, always contingent upon the gaze of the Other.
Moreover, 'Between Us the Sea' unfolds as an AIDS drama, introducing another layer of complexity. However, even here, Benlarbi defies expectations, eschewing moralistic tragedy or calculated pathos. Instead, the disease is inscribed almost casually into the lives of the characters, becoming another element of uncertainty, fragility, and intimacy.
The external world is not abstracted; historical upheavals punctuate the narrative, such as the murder of an Algerian singer during the Algerian Civil War of the 1990s. These brief, painful interjections serve as reminders that exile is never solely an individual experience; it is interwoven with political violence and losses that cannot be articulated without leaving something essential unvoiced.
Benlarbi's portrayal of the moment of return, of visiting one’s homeland, is particularly compelling. Nour travels with Noémie and her son to Morocco, revealing what exile truly entails and what had only been hinted at previously. The homeland no longer recognizes him, or worse, recognizes him all too well. Former lovers, family, and expectations echo like remnants from another life. 'Stop searching for answers. There is only one life,' a line that resonates like a conclusion yet opens further inquiries. What makes 'Between Us the Sea' exceptional is its refusal to be pinned down, aesthetically or politically. Benlarbi, a graduate of the Parisian film school La Fémis, navigates the realms of intimacy and societal analysis with remarkable grace. The imagery is calm, almost restrained, yet resonates with profound power. Marseille is not merely displayed but experienced. Spaces open and close, remaining permeable. And the sea, ever-present, serves as a boundary, a promise, an illusion, and an echo chamber that seems inexhaustible in what it reveals. It is inexhaustible because it poses questions that remain unanswered, allowing characters to exist not as symbols but as individuals, rich in their contradictions, longings, and vulnerabilities.
As reported by artechock.de.
