512 reviews
To all the people who said this is a shameful representations of Syrians, you would know if you paid attention to the movie that the boy snd his family are actually Lebanese. Stop trying to bring attention to issues that are not even there in the first place. The movie is beautifully filmed and Labaki managed to capture so many issues present in our society (I say this as a Lebanese myself) in such a brilliant way.
- karamcaline
- Sep 20, 2018
- Permalink
- planktonrules
- Jul 22, 2020
- Permalink
At first, I didn't want to review the movie, just give it the highest rating and leave it at that because I don't think I am worthy to judge it. And here I am, writing this, not because I have become any worthier but because people need to watch it. Capernaum tugs at your heartstrings and makes you ache. It's painful, and not in an ordinary way. I watched the movie a few days back and I still think about it. It's definitely made me more grateful for the things I have. The actors don't feel like they're acting (to some extent they're not), it feels like a reality, their innocent eyes describing a journey most of the world was unaware of.
I want to recommend this to everyone, but if you're at a low point in your life or show signs of depression, avoid it, you suffer enough. I watched most of the film with tears streaming down my face and at the end, I just sat in the dark with the credits rolling and wondering about the world we live in.
Capernaum is a masterpiece.
I want to recommend this to everyone, but if you're at a low point in your life or show signs of depression, avoid it, you suffer enough. I watched most of the film with tears streaming down my face and at the end, I just sat in the dark with the credits rolling and wondering about the world we live in.
Capernaum is a masterpiece.
- Zi_Reviews_Movies
- Aug 20, 2022
- Permalink
- HadeelKouta
- Sep 25, 2018
- Permalink
Zain Al Rafeea is a terrific revelation in this powerful and profoundly devastating look at the miserable existence of a poor child who, like many others, deserved so much more from life - and I'm pretty sure his eyes of infinite sadness will haunt me for the rest of my life after this.
This is what you call art. This is not just a movie, this is a story of the hardships of life told from the eyes of a beautiful boy.
Nadine Labaki out did herself by portraying the reality that most countries are going through in this time and age.
Do not believe the negative reviews. This is not at all about refugees, they do not even cover this topic in the movie. This is about survival in the toughest and most heartbreaking of situations.
This movie should be on everybody's watch list. It is tough at times, but that's life these days.
Watch it for the sake of the children like Zain.
Nadine Labaki out did herself by portraying the reality that most countries are going through in this time and age.
Do not believe the negative reviews. This is not at all about refugees, they do not even cover this topic in the movie. This is about survival in the toughest and most heartbreaking of situations.
This movie should be on everybody's watch list. It is tough at times, but that's life these days.
Watch it for the sake of the children like Zain.
- ibrahim-elzein-20189
- Sep 12, 2018
- Permalink
Labaki excels in creating a masterpiece that should harvest as many awards as it can, and hopefully the Oscar. It is a heart breaking story with amazing protagonists performance. No one can expects an amazing acting coming from a child and a toddler of such ages! Will Zein be nominated for an Oscar? No one can deny that he deserves it. Labaki directed a marvelous film revealing a great pure talent.
Seeing this many fake reviews here with 1 star rating reveals that these "reviewers" are manipulating the overall rating of the movie with an unfair score. Anyone who actually watched the movie will give it an above than average rating no matter his taste.
Seeing this many fake reviews here with 1 star rating reveals that these "reviewers" are manipulating the overall rating of the movie with an unfair score. Anyone who actually watched the movie will give it an above than average rating no matter his taste.
- jackjackjackjack-69282
- Jun 23, 2018
- Permalink
It's almost like documentary, real honest raw emotions of unfortunate forgotten children in the world in any country with homeless or refugee kids
- salahdeanmoussalli
- Oct 6, 2018
- Permalink
- bugsmoran29
- Jul 11, 2019
- Permalink
Taking as its subject the horrific plight of guttersnipe children in the slums of Beirut, Capharnaüm is the kind of film of which a superficial reading might suggest miserablism at best, and "poverty porn" at worst. Comparisons to film such as Slumdog Millionaire (2008), Trash (2014), and The Florida Project (2017) are probably inevitable, albeit not very informative if one wishes to parse the film. Instead, it's much more useful to view Capharnaüm in the tradition of classic Italian neorealist pictures such as Obsession (1943), Rome, Open City (1945), and Bicycle Thieves (1948), albeit far more pessimistic than any of them.
The third film from Lebanese writer/actress/director Nadine Labaki, Capharnaüm is written by Labaki, Michelle Keserwany, and Labaki's regular writing partner Jihad Hojeily (Labaki's husband Georges Khabbaz and the film's producer and composer, Khaled Mouzanar are both credited with "screenplay collaboration"). Presenting a milieu in which people are utterly discardable, the film depicts children who are literally bought and sold for a few chickens; 11-year-old girls who are married off so their family can afford the rent; babies who are fed on ice cubes covered in sugar; refugees who roam the streets; mental illness which goes untreated; and people without a Lebanese identity card who don't officially exist. The film works because it never feels like it's exploiting, patronising, or trivialising the poverty and misfortune it depicts, never attempting to manipulate the audience into feeling a preconceived emotion. On the contrary, it's matter-of-fact, and notable for just how unsentimental it is. However, it's also deeply humanist, with genuine compassion in its DNA and a quiet rage at its core, born partly from an inherent sense of authenticity; shot in the style of cinéma vérité, it uses non-professional actors whose lives are not dissimilar from the characters they play. There are some problems, of course - the framing device of a trial is poorly conceived and distracts from the superior filmmaking surrounding it, the ending is disappointingly didactic, and the litany of hardships endured by the main character does get a little over-the-top. However, this is undeniably impressive filmmaking, as harrowing and angry, as it is solicitous and respectful.
The film tells the story of Zain El Hajj (Zain Al Rafeea), a young boy from the slums of Beirut serving a five-year prison sentence for, as he puts it, "stabbing a son-of-a-bi-ch." Neither he nor his parents, mother Souad (Kawsar Al Haddad) and father Selim (Fadi Yousef), know Zain's exact age, as he was never officially registered, and therefore has no birth cert. As the film begins, Zain is brought before a judge, as he has decided to sue his parents for bringing him into the world despite not being able to care for their already numerous children. The film then flashes back several months, showing Zain running away from home after failing to prevent his parents selling his beloved 11-year-old sister Sahar (Cedra Izzam) to the landlord Assad (Nour El Husseini). Seeking refuge in a rundown amusement park, he meets Rahil (Yordanos Shiferaw), an Ethiopian refugee working as a cleaner. Taking pity on him, she agrees to let him stay with her in exchange for him looking after her one-year-old son Yonas (an absolutely astounding performance by Boluwatife Treasure Bankole) when she's at work, and the trio quickly form a close bond, until one day, Rahil doesn't return home.
Thoroughly uplifting stuff, am I right? The title of the film is a French word (alternatively spelt Capernaum). The term was originally the name of a Biblical fishing village on the northern shore of the Sea of Galilee, which is mentioned multiple times across all four gospels, as a place where Jesus performed several miracles. However, it's best known from Matthew 11:23, when Jesus curses the village for its lack of faith in him. Later on, however, the word came to be used in French literature to signify a state of chaos and disorder. The current dictionary definition is, "a confused jumble; a place marked by a disorderly accumulation of objects".
From an aesthetic perspective, Labaki wisely keeps things simple and functional, eschewing any directorial gymnastics, with the aesthetic design perfectly chosen to convey the story she wishes to tell. Adopting a documentarian style, cinematographer Christopher Aoun sticks to handheld cameras and, for the most part, natural lighting. The scenes on the streets of Beirut are especially impressive, with Labaki shooting most of the material from roughly Zain's height, or slightly lower. This allows the scenes to adopt a heavily focalised and subjective view of the world, without having to resort to less elegant POV shots. Chadi Roukoz's sound design is also superb in these exterior scenes, with the soundtrack crammed with car horns, shouting, crying, laughter, dogs barking, airplanes flying overhead, traffic on the streets. It's an aural overload, conveying how the massive city is overwhelming Zain, and again, tying us to his subjectivity. Placing us not just in Zain's world, but, crucially, in his subjective interpretation of that world, Labaki draws us to him, allowing us to view the world partly as outraged adults, but also as sharers in his experiences.
Zain is no saint; he's a rough, foul-mouthed thief, but he's also the most inherently honourable character in the film. Labaki could easily have used Zain to attempt to elicit unearned pity, but instead, she is far more interested in examining the day-to-day survival of children like him. One of his most salient characterises is his practical-minded solutions to the challenges he faces, and in this, we're encouraged to respect how he responds to his situation rather than pity him for being in such a situation in the first place. The film adopts something of the same manner; much like Zain, it's tough-minded and practical, and just as his hardened exterior is completely authentic, so too is the film's quiet anger.
Labaki sets the tone for the film to come in the very first shot, as we see Zain, filthy dirty, in only his vest and underwear. It is subsequently driven home multiple times that life is almost worthless in this place - Sahar is sold for some chickens, Rahil is encouraged to sell Yonas in return for forged migrant documents, one man brags, "I can buy a human for 500". This is a world in which people think of children in the same way as they think of commodities, with the notion of adults protecting children subservient to that of adults looking at children in a cold transactional manner. In such a place, Zain somehow manages to retain his sense of empathy, although he too is infected with the concept that everything is transactional, as his pragmatism illustrates to him that materialism is the order of the day. However, although he suppresses his sense of compassion, he does not completely extinguish it, nor would he want to. In a world where adults are reprehensible, and children their innocent victims, Zain is the story's moral compass, exhibiting a humanity far in excess of any kindness than has ever been shown to him.
In terms of problems, there are a few. The framing device of the trial, for example, is awkwardly realised, and for the most part, serves only to interrupt the far more compelling story of Zain, Rahil, and Yonas. Additionally, not only do the scenes in court come across as more heavily scripted than everything else, but they also depict something that couldn't happen (as Labaki herself has acknowledged, children can't sue their parents for giving birth to them). Obviously intended as a means to dramatize how Zain wants a voice, it is nonetheless a narrative contrivance that gets in the way of the far more accomplished filmmaking seen elsewhere. Surrounded by the more naturalistic realism of the rest of the film, the court scenes stand out because they feel like a plot machination. The third act in particular, which focuses primarily on the trial, strays into something Labaki has deftly avoid everywhere else; didacticism. Elsewhere, there is something of a sense that Labaki overloads the story, pushing just one too many hardships on Zain, as she attempts to cover a plethora of topics (including, but not limited to domestic violence, the migrant crisis, human trafficking, paedophilia, child labour, education, the justice system), and on occasion, the film feels like it's going to collapse under the weight of human suffering and thematic nihilism. This is a shame because some of the best scenes are those involving Zain and Yonas just going about their day, and if Labaki had had the confidence in these quieter moments, she might have scaled back on the socio-political content.
Never feeling exploitative, nor glorifying the poverty at its centre, the film isn't even especially sentimental, depicting scenes with a raw matter-of-factness, that were they featured in a Hollywood movie would be in slow-motion, with string music telling us to "Cry now". The conclusion is disappointingly didactic, and the journey there harrowing and exhausting. However, in the last shot, Labaki dares to offer a very cautious bit of optimism, and ultimately, the takeaway is not despair, but compassion. Just as Zain finds a humanity within himself that should be long dead, the film finds a moment of optimism amidst the chaos, and encourages the audience to cling to it.
The third film from Lebanese writer/actress/director Nadine Labaki, Capharnaüm is written by Labaki, Michelle Keserwany, and Labaki's regular writing partner Jihad Hojeily (Labaki's husband Georges Khabbaz and the film's producer and composer, Khaled Mouzanar are both credited with "screenplay collaboration"). Presenting a milieu in which people are utterly discardable, the film depicts children who are literally bought and sold for a few chickens; 11-year-old girls who are married off so their family can afford the rent; babies who are fed on ice cubes covered in sugar; refugees who roam the streets; mental illness which goes untreated; and people without a Lebanese identity card who don't officially exist. The film works because it never feels like it's exploiting, patronising, or trivialising the poverty and misfortune it depicts, never attempting to manipulate the audience into feeling a preconceived emotion. On the contrary, it's matter-of-fact, and notable for just how unsentimental it is. However, it's also deeply humanist, with genuine compassion in its DNA and a quiet rage at its core, born partly from an inherent sense of authenticity; shot in the style of cinéma vérité, it uses non-professional actors whose lives are not dissimilar from the characters they play. There are some problems, of course - the framing device of a trial is poorly conceived and distracts from the superior filmmaking surrounding it, the ending is disappointingly didactic, and the litany of hardships endured by the main character does get a little over-the-top. However, this is undeniably impressive filmmaking, as harrowing and angry, as it is solicitous and respectful.
The film tells the story of Zain El Hajj (Zain Al Rafeea), a young boy from the slums of Beirut serving a five-year prison sentence for, as he puts it, "stabbing a son-of-a-bi-ch." Neither he nor his parents, mother Souad (Kawsar Al Haddad) and father Selim (Fadi Yousef), know Zain's exact age, as he was never officially registered, and therefore has no birth cert. As the film begins, Zain is brought before a judge, as he has decided to sue his parents for bringing him into the world despite not being able to care for their already numerous children. The film then flashes back several months, showing Zain running away from home after failing to prevent his parents selling his beloved 11-year-old sister Sahar (Cedra Izzam) to the landlord Assad (Nour El Husseini). Seeking refuge in a rundown amusement park, he meets Rahil (Yordanos Shiferaw), an Ethiopian refugee working as a cleaner. Taking pity on him, she agrees to let him stay with her in exchange for him looking after her one-year-old son Yonas (an absolutely astounding performance by Boluwatife Treasure Bankole) when she's at work, and the trio quickly form a close bond, until one day, Rahil doesn't return home.
Thoroughly uplifting stuff, am I right? The title of the film is a French word (alternatively spelt Capernaum). The term was originally the name of a Biblical fishing village on the northern shore of the Sea of Galilee, which is mentioned multiple times across all four gospels, as a place where Jesus performed several miracles. However, it's best known from Matthew 11:23, when Jesus curses the village for its lack of faith in him. Later on, however, the word came to be used in French literature to signify a state of chaos and disorder. The current dictionary definition is, "a confused jumble; a place marked by a disorderly accumulation of objects".
From an aesthetic perspective, Labaki wisely keeps things simple and functional, eschewing any directorial gymnastics, with the aesthetic design perfectly chosen to convey the story she wishes to tell. Adopting a documentarian style, cinematographer Christopher Aoun sticks to handheld cameras and, for the most part, natural lighting. The scenes on the streets of Beirut are especially impressive, with Labaki shooting most of the material from roughly Zain's height, or slightly lower. This allows the scenes to adopt a heavily focalised and subjective view of the world, without having to resort to less elegant POV shots. Chadi Roukoz's sound design is also superb in these exterior scenes, with the soundtrack crammed with car horns, shouting, crying, laughter, dogs barking, airplanes flying overhead, traffic on the streets. It's an aural overload, conveying how the massive city is overwhelming Zain, and again, tying us to his subjectivity. Placing us not just in Zain's world, but, crucially, in his subjective interpretation of that world, Labaki draws us to him, allowing us to view the world partly as outraged adults, but also as sharers in his experiences.
Zain is no saint; he's a rough, foul-mouthed thief, but he's also the most inherently honourable character in the film. Labaki could easily have used Zain to attempt to elicit unearned pity, but instead, she is far more interested in examining the day-to-day survival of children like him. One of his most salient characterises is his practical-minded solutions to the challenges he faces, and in this, we're encouraged to respect how he responds to his situation rather than pity him for being in such a situation in the first place. The film adopts something of the same manner; much like Zain, it's tough-minded and practical, and just as his hardened exterior is completely authentic, so too is the film's quiet anger.
Labaki sets the tone for the film to come in the very first shot, as we see Zain, filthy dirty, in only his vest and underwear. It is subsequently driven home multiple times that life is almost worthless in this place - Sahar is sold for some chickens, Rahil is encouraged to sell Yonas in return for forged migrant documents, one man brags, "I can buy a human for 500". This is a world in which people think of children in the same way as they think of commodities, with the notion of adults protecting children subservient to that of adults looking at children in a cold transactional manner. In such a place, Zain somehow manages to retain his sense of empathy, although he too is infected with the concept that everything is transactional, as his pragmatism illustrates to him that materialism is the order of the day. However, although he suppresses his sense of compassion, he does not completely extinguish it, nor would he want to. In a world where adults are reprehensible, and children their innocent victims, Zain is the story's moral compass, exhibiting a humanity far in excess of any kindness than has ever been shown to him.
In terms of problems, there are a few. The framing device of the trial, for example, is awkwardly realised, and for the most part, serves only to interrupt the far more compelling story of Zain, Rahil, and Yonas. Additionally, not only do the scenes in court come across as more heavily scripted than everything else, but they also depict something that couldn't happen (as Labaki herself has acknowledged, children can't sue their parents for giving birth to them). Obviously intended as a means to dramatize how Zain wants a voice, it is nonetheless a narrative contrivance that gets in the way of the far more accomplished filmmaking seen elsewhere. Surrounded by the more naturalistic realism of the rest of the film, the court scenes stand out because they feel like a plot machination. The third act in particular, which focuses primarily on the trial, strays into something Labaki has deftly avoid everywhere else; didacticism. Elsewhere, there is something of a sense that Labaki overloads the story, pushing just one too many hardships on Zain, as she attempts to cover a plethora of topics (including, but not limited to domestic violence, the migrant crisis, human trafficking, paedophilia, child labour, education, the justice system), and on occasion, the film feels like it's going to collapse under the weight of human suffering and thematic nihilism. This is a shame because some of the best scenes are those involving Zain and Yonas just going about their day, and if Labaki had had the confidence in these quieter moments, she might have scaled back on the socio-political content.
Never feeling exploitative, nor glorifying the poverty at its centre, the film isn't even especially sentimental, depicting scenes with a raw matter-of-factness, that were they featured in a Hollywood movie would be in slow-motion, with string music telling us to "Cry now". The conclusion is disappointingly didactic, and the journey there harrowing and exhausting. However, in the last shot, Labaki dares to offer a very cautious bit of optimism, and ultimately, the takeaway is not despair, but compassion. Just as Zain finds a humanity within himself that should be long dead, the film finds a moment of optimism amidst the chaos, and encourages the audience to cling to it.
OMG. Zain and Yonas are movie miracles. The director succeeded in crafting them into natural actors. And the story ..... flowing like a strong current that carries you helplessly you can't do nothing but let go of everything. And Zain, how his energy infiltrated my being, I realized that I smiled when he also finally smiled at the end, that through the movie I became him. He is magic!
- tedicaprio
- Jul 6, 2019
- Permalink
I have taken so long to review this film because it has had so much of an emotional effect on me. It was also the first film I saw at AFI Festival and since I was genuinely shocked at how bad the subsequent films I saw there, I decided to get those out of the way first.
Well, here I am, giving my review on the most heart-wrenching yet most beautiful film I have ever seen. The "acting" was absolutely extraordinary (standouts are from a young eleven year old boy and a one year old baby). The score from the director's husband happens to be one of my favorite pieces of music from the decade. The cinematography manages to take some of the most disgusting places in the world and manages to give it beauty, especially through the gorgeous landscape and aerial shots.
Coming from a Lebanese female director, Capernaum is a film that discusses a variety of issues, but I will try to make it as simple as I can. In the present day, our main character, eleven year old Zain is a boy currently serving a sentence for stabbing a man. Through certain circumstances, Zain is able to take a break from jail to partake in a court case against his parents, where he is attempting to sue them for ever having him in the first place and to urge them to never have kids again. Through a series of flashbacks, we get to see Zain suffering in his large family of about seven to eight, including sisters of all ages, and two horribly misguided parents. The parents struggle financially, forcing their children to work long hours and never partake in school. The parents also abuse Zain for being extremely rebellious in nature (think of Rebel Without a Cause) and they starve him a lot. There is a lot of family issues here, but over the course of the film, Zain experiences a journey of a lifetime, running away from home and trying to make a life for himself, living life on the streets. Regardless of the amount of suffering Zain goes through, he delivers an utmost love and care for everyone around him.
Capernaum is an extraordinary film that won my heart in every way. It depicts the harsh realities of the children living in squalor in Lebanon, and perhaps in all of the Middle East. Filmed as a narrative, Capernaum actually uses real life Syrian refugees and kids who were all going through extremely similar circumstances to the ones found in this film. The director and her husband were their following the screening, and they really emphasized how they spent 100s of hours in Lebanon, ensuring that they experienced the squalor themselves and the interviewed hundreds of children to get an idea of what life is like there.
The common theme: "I wish I never lived" or "I wish my parents never had me."
The director took those two most common statements and developed a powerful film that gives humanity to these children who need it most. Perhaps the themes of love and compassion amidst squalor and pain could be a guiding light to all the children who are suffering in the foster care system or are getting abused here in the United States as well. I just hope Capernaum spreads awareness to all people throughout the world that child abuse is still rampant throughout the world, and all children want to be is loved. All people want to be is accepted and have a home. All people just wanted to be treated like a *queues Tommy Wiseau's voice* human being.
Honestly, I am proud to say this is currently my favorite film of all time. At two and a half hours long, I was begging for more at the end. Bring lots of tissues, but also do not be afraid to let loose and laugh a little.
Regardless of all the positive reviews for Roma, I am going to be rooting for Capernaum to win Best Foreign Film at the Academy Awards. This experience changed my life, and I hope it does for you as well.
Fun Fact: The original cut was ten hours long.
Another fun fact: This received a 15 minute standing ovation at Cannes Film Festival, and it was well deserved.
Well, here I am, giving my review on the most heart-wrenching yet most beautiful film I have ever seen. The "acting" was absolutely extraordinary (standouts are from a young eleven year old boy and a one year old baby). The score from the director's husband happens to be one of my favorite pieces of music from the decade. The cinematography manages to take some of the most disgusting places in the world and manages to give it beauty, especially through the gorgeous landscape and aerial shots.
Coming from a Lebanese female director, Capernaum is a film that discusses a variety of issues, but I will try to make it as simple as I can. In the present day, our main character, eleven year old Zain is a boy currently serving a sentence for stabbing a man. Through certain circumstances, Zain is able to take a break from jail to partake in a court case against his parents, where he is attempting to sue them for ever having him in the first place and to urge them to never have kids again. Through a series of flashbacks, we get to see Zain suffering in his large family of about seven to eight, including sisters of all ages, and two horribly misguided parents. The parents struggle financially, forcing their children to work long hours and never partake in school. The parents also abuse Zain for being extremely rebellious in nature (think of Rebel Without a Cause) and they starve him a lot. There is a lot of family issues here, but over the course of the film, Zain experiences a journey of a lifetime, running away from home and trying to make a life for himself, living life on the streets. Regardless of the amount of suffering Zain goes through, he delivers an utmost love and care for everyone around him.
Capernaum is an extraordinary film that won my heart in every way. It depicts the harsh realities of the children living in squalor in Lebanon, and perhaps in all of the Middle East. Filmed as a narrative, Capernaum actually uses real life Syrian refugees and kids who were all going through extremely similar circumstances to the ones found in this film. The director and her husband were their following the screening, and they really emphasized how they spent 100s of hours in Lebanon, ensuring that they experienced the squalor themselves and the interviewed hundreds of children to get an idea of what life is like there.
The common theme: "I wish I never lived" or "I wish my parents never had me."
The director took those two most common statements and developed a powerful film that gives humanity to these children who need it most. Perhaps the themes of love and compassion amidst squalor and pain could be a guiding light to all the children who are suffering in the foster care system or are getting abused here in the United States as well. I just hope Capernaum spreads awareness to all people throughout the world that child abuse is still rampant throughout the world, and all children want to be is loved. All people want to be is accepted and have a home. All people just wanted to be treated like a *queues Tommy Wiseau's voice* human being.
Honestly, I am proud to say this is currently my favorite film of all time. At two and a half hours long, I was begging for more at the end. Bring lots of tissues, but also do not be afraid to let loose and laugh a little.
Regardless of all the positive reviews for Roma, I am going to be rooting for Capernaum to win Best Foreign Film at the Academy Awards. This experience changed my life, and I hope it does for you as well.
Fun Fact: The original cut was ten hours long.
Another fun fact: This received a 15 minute standing ovation at Cannes Film Festival, and it was well deserved.
- andrewestrella
- Nov 15, 2018
- Permalink
This movie shows a lot of issues that we can find in Lebanon but also in a lot of other countries , it raises awareness of how bad life can get specially to young children . I hope that after watching this movie every single one of us will start to act in order to make this world a better place . Nadine Labaki did an amazing job because she showed the truth in a strong and realistic way . I also want to add that the kid is very talented he played his caracter in such a powerful way we could see pain in his eyes and it touched our heart and soul ! I recommend this movie it's a roller coaster of emotions !!
It's the missing question in the often heated debates about child poverty - I hear it all the time in my own country (UK) - has it risen? Should the government be doing more to help? How can a developed country tolerate children growing up in squalor? The question that is never asked, that is in fact completely taboo to even suggest, is why are people living in poverty having children? And is that moral?
It is the question asked by Zain, the protagonist of this superb film, who decides to sue his parents for having him. Having endured a lifetime of neglect, abuse and poverty he thinks no, and asks the court to prevent his parents from having anymore children.
That sets the film rolling, the vast majority of which takes place in flashback as we see how Zain ended up in court. Along the way we see the grim reality of life in the slums of Beirut, as Zain eventually decides to run away after his parents sell off his older (11 year old) sister in marriage to their landlord. He ends up living with an undocumented Ethiopian migrant who lives in a shack with her baby, and Zain ends up looking after the child while the mother works. This provides a counterpoint in many ways to the earlier scenes, as the threesome establish something akin to the warm loving home Zain had never known. But yet again, the films forces us to ask - why has this woman had a child? Though employed, she lives in squalor, and as an illegal migrant her child will never be able to get an education, as a local people trafficker trying to persuade her to sell the child reminds her. Is this moral? Does her right to have a child trump that of the child's right for a decent start in life?
The films develops from there, though I cannot reveal anymore without spoiling the final act. Though this isn't really a plot-driven film per se, more a slice-of-life look at Zain and how he deals with the situations life throws at him. This film reminded me very much of 'Salaam Bombay', Mira Nair's 1987 film which deals with street children in Mumbai.
It's a brave film and the only other film I can think of which tackles this issue is Ken Loach's 'Ladybird Ladybird', in which an impoverished woman with a chaotic home-life repeatedly gets pregnant. There I think Loach approached his protagonist from a more sympathetic perspective, seeing her as a victim of an unfair economic system and social forces beyond her control. Though I may be misreading her intention, Nadine Labaki takes this further and asks - is it basically selfish for people in these circumstances to have children?
Personally speaking - should the government (whether in rich or poor countries) be doing more to alleviate poverty? Yes. Is the economic system both within and between states currently too unequal? Yes. If you are stuck in poverty, dealing with poor mental health, drug addiction, illiteracy, malnutrition, slum-living condition - that sucks, and is unfair. But one thing you should not be doing is bringing children into that situation and thereby perpetuating the cycle of misery. Yes, some children rise above their circumstances, but the vast majority don't, and are thereby condemned to a miserable life through no fault of their own. It's the height of selfishness. This is the provocative question Labaki and Zain pose in this engrossing film.
It is the question asked by Zain, the protagonist of this superb film, who decides to sue his parents for having him. Having endured a lifetime of neglect, abuse and poverty he thinks no, and asks the court to prevent his parents from having anymore children.
That sets the film rolling, the vast majority of which takes place in flashback as we see how Zain ended up in court. Along the way we see the grim reality of life in the slums of Beirut, as Zain eventually decides to run away after his parents sell off his older (11 year old) sister in marriage to their landlord. He ends up living with an undocumented Ethiopian migrant who lives in a shack with her baby, and Zain ends up looking after the child while the mother works. This provides a counterpoint in many ways to the earlier scenes, as the threesome establish something akin to the warm loving home Zain had never known. But yet again, the films forces us to ask - why has this woman had a child? Though employed, she lives in squalor, and as an illegal migrant her child will never be able to get an education, as a local people trafficker trying to persuade her to sell the child reminds her. Is this moral? Does her right to have a child trump that of the child's right for a decent start in life?
The films develops from there, though I cannot reveal anymore without spoiling the final act. Though this isn't really a plot-driven film per se, more a slice-of-life look at Zain and how he deals with the situations life throws at him. This film reminded me very much of 'Salaam Bombay', Mira Nair's 1987 film which deals with street children in Mumbai.
It's a brave film and the only other film I can think of which tackles this issue is Ken Loach's 'Ladybird Ladybird', in which an impoverished woman with a chaotic home-life repeatedly gets pregnant. There I think Loach approached his protagonist from a more sympathetic perspective, seeing her as a victim of an unfair economic system and social forces beyond her control. Though I may be misreading her intention, Nadine Labaki takes this further and asks - is it basically selfish for people in these circumstances to have children?
Personally speaking - should the government (whether in rich or poor countries) be doing more to alleviate poverty? Yes. Is the economic system both within and between states currently too unequal? Yes. If you are stuck in poverty, dealing with poor mental health, drug addiction, illiteracy, malnutrition, slum-living condition - that sucks, and is unfair. But one thing you should not be doing is bringing children into that situation and thereby perpetuating the cycle of misery. Yes, some children rise above their circumstances, but the vast majority don't, and are thereby condemned to a miserable life through no fault of their own. It's the height of selfishness. This is the provocative question Labaki and Zain pose in this engrossing film.
This is not a documentary, yet it may very well have been. It does feel a lot like one. And because of that, which includes a pace and a mood that some may not like that much, it may or may not be your cup of tea. The family problems and issues are so direct and so obnoxious at times, that you may feel annoyed. This is by design. Depending on your level of empathy, you will of course have different reactions to a crying baby for example.
This is not a judging tool and we are all different in many ways, which in general is a good thing. But this is also why we'll react differently to certain things and it's ok. It would be bad if all liked the same things and would not leave any room for discussions - which hopefully are not stretching into fights. Because whether you think this is a masterpiece (and there are indications of that here, thorough throughout, grim, dark, but taken directly from life - the drama and all that) or think this is not worth a minute of your time ... doesn't mean you're more right than anyone not believing what you believe.
It's quite the harrowing and draining watching experience. So not an easy watch (not just because of babies crying, but generally what happens to kids - not just physically but mentally and so forth) ... does this sound like something you want to watch?
This is not a judging tool and we are all different in many ways, which in general is a good thing. But this is also why we'll react differently to certain things and it's ok. It would be bad if all liked the same things and would not leave any room for discussions - which hopefully are not stretching into fights. Because whether you think this is a masterpiece (and there are indications of that here, thorough throughout, grim, dark, but taken directly from life - the drama and all that) or think this is not worth a minute of your time ... doesn't mean you're more right than anyone not believing what you believe.
It's quite the harrowing and draining watching experience. So not an easy watch (not just because of babies crying, but generally what happens to kids - not just physically but mentally and so forth) ... does this sound like something you want to watch?
- classicsoncall
- Sep 3, 2019
- Permalink
Just had the pleasure of viewing this film at the Sarajevo Film Festival. Absolutely incredible, powerful story of a handful of hapless, unlucky individuals navigating a cruel world. Right when the sadness of watching becomes too much, the despair relents only to draw you in for a deeper, darker ride. Not for the faint of heart. Incredible production. Thank you.
- veronicaczastkiewicz
- Aug 13, 2018
- Permalink
'Capernaum (2019)' is social-realism at its finest, so palpably 'real' that it almost seems a documentary. It somehow depicts a bleak and difficult-to-stomach world with sparks of hope and fun. Of course, a lot of what happens is devastating, too. Apparently, writer-director Labaki amalgamated the story only from real-life events she witnessed first-hand during her research. It certainly shows and, for me, this information makes everything that much more heart-breaking. It's precisely because it's so real that it hurts so much. This emotional connection is only possible because of a fantastically subdued screenplay, some brilliant direction and typically phenomenal performances from all members of the cast. Indeed, the child actors are remarkably good here, ranging in age from pre-teen to barely out-of-the-womb. It's impressive stuff that solidifies the film as one of the most believable in recent years. The whole thing is just effortlessly engaging, wrapping you up in a relatively small story that usually wouldn't get the time of day it deserves. It may be fiction, but it highlights a plethora of issues that truly plague our world every single day. It's all so domestic and, even, mundane, too. It's just a slice of life that we usually don't see. It's great. 8/10
- Pjtaylor-96-138044
- Sep 23, 2019
- Permalink
- jboothmillard
- Mar 1, 2020
- Permalink
We've heard a lot about refugees in the past few years. There have been images of people trying to cross the Mediterranean Sea, or pouring into Lebanon and Jordan, or other things like that. The reality on the ground for them is horrible beyond belief. This topic gets addressed in Nadine Labaki's "Capharnaüm" (also rendered Kafarnaum, called "Capernaum" in English). It concerns Zain, a Lebanese boy who befriends Yonas, an Ethiopian immigrant boy.
Shot in a naturalistic style, the movie offers a rough look at their existences. Zain comes from a dilapidated part of the city but has run away from his parents, while Yonas lives with his mother in a cramped apartment. People flee their homes in search of a better and safer life, and then terrible things happen to them in their new homes. It's a heartbreaking movie, and I wholeheartedly recommend it. Let's hope that Labaki keeps making these sorts of movies.
No telling how many people this happens to worldwide (and it looks likely to increase).
Shot in a naturalistic style, the movie offers a rough look at their existences. Zain comes from a dilapidated part of the city but has run away from his parents, while Yonas lives with his mother in a cramped apartment. People flee their homes in search of a better and safer life, and then terrible things happen to them in their new homes. It's a heartbreaking movie, and I wholeheartedly recommend it. Let's hope that Labaki keeps making these sorts of movies.
No telling how many people this happens to worldwide (and it looks likely to increase).
- lee_eisenberg
- May 19, 2019
- Permalink
To me, this is the film about overpopulation, and the responsibility to stop making so many kids. Kids are everywhere, in every shot, like vermin. the scenes they all sleep together. The mother pregnant again. The message is very clear, and I agree with it.
I do not agree that parents are caricatures. I would not say so. Acting is great. Whether these issues exist, I cannot judge but I think they do. The script is not perfect, true enough. It is not a masterpiece but it is courageous to bring attention to this issue no one addresses.
Capernaum is a Labanese film about a 12 year old boy, Zain, that sues his parents for bringing him to a world in which they can't take a good care of him. We're shown the hard things that he was through on life, and in the end of it all we should ask ourselves - do we have the right to judge people without walking in their shoes? Does anyone have?
Well...this movie isn't bad, but it has a lot of problems. Let's start from the things that I did like - Zain's acting was really solid, the film is pretty well-shot and edited, and I did enjoy to an extent from some parts of the story. And yeah, the Ethiopian baby is cute. That's about it.
Now, this film has a big problem. One big, fat, unignorable problem - it's super shallow. Yes, I was somewhat invested on Zain's character. He went through hard things, and it's pretty hard to not feel anything. But this film - from its message, the way it's portrayed to the characters, there's nothing there whatsoever. If I was to compare Capernaum to another film, it would be to Bicycle Thieves, but while BT succeeds in communicating an interesting message, portraying a layered problem and telling a pretty interesting story, Capernaum just throws at you that hard lives of Zain and that's about it.
So, to conclude it all - the film didn't make me suffer. It was pretty good on the technical level, and the plot isn't bad, but when digging into it it turns out to be quite shallow and not that interesting. Feeling a 5.7 on this one.
Well...this movie isn't bad, but it has a lot of problems. Let's start from the things that I did like - Zain's acting was really solid, the film is pretty well-shot and edited, and I did enjoy to an extent from some parts of the story. And yeah, the Ethiopian baby is cute. That's about it.
Now, this film has a big problem. One big, fat, unignorable problem - it's super shallow. Yes, I was somewhat invested on Zain's character. He went through hard things, and it's pretty hard to not feel anything. But this film - from its message, the way it's portrayed to the characters, there's nothing there whatsoever. If I was to compare Capernaum to another film, it would be to Bicycle Thieves, but while BT succeeds in communicating an interesting message, portraying a layered problem and telling a pretty interesting story, Capernaum just throws at you that hard lives of Zain and that's about it.
So, to conclude it all - the film didn't make me suffer. It was pretty good on the technical level, and the plot isn't bad, but when digging into it it turns out to be quite shallow and not that interesting. Feeling a 5.7 on this one.
Capharnaum is the new precious gift to Lebanese cinema. Directed by Nadine Labaki and written by Labaki, Joelle Keserwani, Jihad Hojeily and Georges Khabbaz the movie follows the journey and the misery of a boy called Zain that led him to sue his parents for giving him life!
The movie took years to finish with a total of 500 hours of rushes filmed! Shot in a "Cinema Realité" style without any professional actors and with a raw cinematography you're going to witness the dark side of the country, the unacceptable neighborhoods, the unfair life that poor children are facing.
Everyone is absolutely well casted! Zain was the ultimate discovery a super talented boy, the Ethiopian maid was great also and even the real retired judge did a good job. Each actor is really telling his own personal story so you will arrive at a point where you couldn't differentiate if you're watching cinema, a written script or even a documentary. Wonderful job from Labaki and well deserved Jury Prize at Cannes!
Thumbs up also to Khaled Mouzanar for giving us another remarkable score. The movie is nothing less than heartbreaking.
As Truffaut freezed his last scene back in 1959 in "The 400 Blows" giving us some hope, the last shot of Capernaum will speak a lot...!
- georges-nahas
- Sep 21, 2018
- Permalink