Yunan
A film of hope

“Yunan” is a German-Canadian co-production. Many other countries have also contributed, including Qatar, Palestine, Jordan and Saudi Arabia. This is the second part of a trilogy written and directed by the brilliant Ameer Fakher Eldin.

By Kelly-Anne Vargas and Colin St-Jean

Yunan had its world premiere at the 75th Berlinale, in the official competition. While the film is truly beautiful, it does contain a number of lengthy passages. But in the current context of political tensions in Germany and Europe in general, we'll forgive this little lapse, as the film's message is essential at the moment.

In Yunan, we follow Munir, an Arab author living in Hamburg, who decides to go far from home to an island in Germany to carry out the final act: his suicide. He's at the end of his rope. He can no longer write, and suffers from a recurring malaise that prevents him from breathing. Not to mention the fact that his mother suffers from Alzheimer's and no longer recognizes him. On the island, he ends up staying in a small hotel owned by an old woman and her son. With the old woman, Munir forges a bond of friendship that gradually leads him away from his primary goal. It is this strong connection between an Arab man and a white woman that makes this film so meaningful in these troubled times.

Beauty and ugliness

In the film Yunan, the viewer can observe several contrasts between beauty and ugliness. The film contains several very wide shots showing landscapes and the island on which the story takes place. These shots show the island, which is a fairly dark green, and around it we can see the sea beginning to rise. The sea is blue and looks pale compared to the island. These shots are full of beauty, which makes a great contrast with the character's quest and the very sensitive and heavy subject of suicide. But the beauty in these shots can be interpreted as an omen concerning the denouement of the narrative. Also in the film, the island on which the main character finds himself, is flooded, but again, the shots used to show the flooding are sublime and the colors used are soothing. This catastrophe is a beautiful metaphor for the state of Munir's character. Even in the way he shows the damage caused by the floods, the director has managed to retain a beauty and softness in the shots chosen, which is not an easy thing to achieve.

Phenomenal acting 

In addition to the magnificent cinematography, the acting contributes enormously to the beauty of this film, since we mustn't forget the slow pace and the fact that it's a rather contemplative film. So emotional, nuanced acting is an important factor. The actors performed their roles wonderfully. Lead actor Georges Khabbaz (Munir), in his role, managed to bring authenticity and depth to the character. He succeeds in making us understand why he has come to think about the final act, and some were even able to recognize themselves in this beautiful, complex character. Also, to continue on the subject of the actors, the complicity between the character of Munir and the old lady played by Hanna Schygulla was something unique and beautiful to see. You could really feel the bond between the two, thanks to the naturalness of the actors. This complicity gives us hope for the future of the world, and sometimes that's what cinema is for too.

In short, Yunan is one of our favorites of the 75th Berlinale. It's a slow, contemplative film, but one of unprecedented visual and sonic beauty. It's a feel-good film, and that seems to be increasingly rare these days...