Kaouther Ben Hania's newest documentary, “Four Daughters,” traces the life of Olfa Hamrouni, a Tunisian mother whose two eldest daughters joined the Islamic State group in 2016. Its innovative storytelling, mixing actors with real subjects, made a splash last year at Cannes and just scored an Oscar nomination.
Russian filmmaker Marie Surae’s documentary “I’m Not Lakit” follows Saleh, a stateless, abandoned child in Lebanon. Labeled a “lakit,” a derogatory term for those born out of wedlock, he faces social stigma on top of massive legal barriers as he embarks on adulthood.
The day Derna was washed out to sea, the poet Mustafa Trabelsi published a short poem on his Facebook page, titled “The Rain.” Its prediction of the coming devastation became an indictment of Libya’s corrupt political elite.
Delightfully absurdist, in “They Cloned Tyrone,” Taylor and Rettenmaier make a subtle but damning point: Our experiment in democracy, or republicanism at least, has always relied on a violent dose of coercion.
Whether it paints a smaller picture or a big one, ends on a note of hope or hopelessness, fiction of ideas can help us sift through what threatens to overwhelm and remind us that even in the face of rabid reaction, sparks of autonomy will invariably ignite.
Both Copts and Muslims say Egypt is our mother because she gives us life, because she is our source, because she is so inextricably linked with religion and identity. But the diaspora often has to make sense of faith in an increasingly secularized world.
Given the American far right’s revivification of Pinochet amid its celebration of fascism and insurrection, Larrain’s thesis seems all the more fitting: that in Chile, and indeed across the world, Pinochet never died; he can’t die, because Chile (like his supporters in other countries) refuses to kill him.