Over eight years El Gouna Film Festival (GFF) has established itself as an annual gathering of audiences, critics and industry professionals, generating a glamorous aura around it since its inauguration in 2017 not only with its outstanding programmes but also with its industry platforms that create an opportunity for filmmakers and producers to present their future projects and seek production support as well as giving cinephiles a chance to discuss issues of interest.
Despite the variety in this year’s fare, politics and history continue to set the tone. Ukrainian filmmaker Sergei Loznitsa’s latest, Two Prosecutors, in the Feature Narrative Competition, is based on a novella written by Georgy Demidov. Set in the Soviet Union in 1937, at a time when the Stalin regime’s tight fist, especially the NKVD, was at its peak, its backdrop is the Great Purge of 1936-39, when show trials against old Bolsheviks such as Leon Trotsky’s supporters, military commanders and prominent party members were held. With accusations of assassination attempts against Stalin himself, the result was widespread terror. The film itself opens with the guards at a detention facility ordering some prisoners to move. One guard orders an old prisoner to burn a pile of letters addressed to Stalin, but the prisoner manages to hide one letter.
After the credits, the film depicts the journey of the main character, the newly appointed young district prosecutor Kornyev (Alexander Kuznetsov). Kornyev wants to meet the author of the leaked letter, but faces a labyrinth once he enters the warden’s office. With its iron gates, locks, and long corridors, the space gives the viewer a sense of the difficulty of the protagonist’s mission. The dull colours and cold atmosphere are the visual elements that complement this sequence.
The slow editing reinforces this notion, as if all of the soldiers in the prison are reluctant to open the gates to anyone from outside. This part could be a symbolic introduction to the struggle the hero will undertake to raise the case of the prisoner. It is clear the protagonist is a determined idealist but his journey seems doomed. Only a few scenes rely on dialogue like the scene between Kornyev and the warden, and the scene between Kornyev and the state prosecutor. The rest of the film is based on a refined cinematic language of calm rhythms, powerful cinematography, a grey palette and universally exceptional acting.
***
Simón Mesa Soto’s A Poet, which won the jury prize in the Un-Certain Regard section at the Cannes Film Festival, is also in the Feature Narrative Competition of GFF. The film’s drama centres on Oscar (Ubeimar Rios), a middle-aged man who once achieved acclaim as a poet, having published two collections in his youth. Several scenes effectively illustrate Oscar’s current reality: he is unemployed and living with his elderly mother, while his wife has left him, taking their daughter with her. The film depicts a significant part of his life spent at the bar with friends, engaging in heated debates about literature and the identity of the greatest Colombian poet. However, his drinking leads to a loss of control, culminating in scenes where he wakes up on the pavement the following day. This turmoil contributes to his strained relationship with his daughter.
An interesting detail about the main character is that he loves and identifies with the Colombian poet and novelist José Asunción Silva, who was a prominent writer in the 19th century. As the filmmaker sometimes takes the drama in the direction of black comedy, he shows Oscar’s insincere thoughts about committing suicide, inspired by the real tragedy of Silva’s death in his bed after he shot himself in 1896. The filmmaker not only shows Oscar’s feeling when seeing a 5,000 pesos banknote with Silva’s face on it but also how he hangs a large picture of his predecessor in his room.
Oscar’s life is a mixture of misfortune and misery. Only two elements keep him going: his relationship with his mother, which involves love, care and limited financial support, and his relationship with his teenage daughter, which faces more ups and downs; she is embarrassed of his irresponsible attitude, not wanting him to visit her at school. The climax occurs when Oscar gets a job teaching literature at a high school. There he discovers a talented student in his class, named Yurlady. The girl is from a very marginalised neighbourhood, and her only interest in life is to find ways to support her family. The situation takes a dark turn when he is accused of harassing her during a party with the poetry group. Following the loss of his job, Oscar returns to drinking and faces the threat of jail. However, the most devastating aspect of his tragedy is the deterioration of his relationship with his daughter, which had just been starting to stabilise.
The filmmaker mixes tragedy with satire, benefitting from the performance of Ubeimar Rios who manages to play an eccentric intellectual with astounding ease.
***
In his documentary Kabul Between Prayers, Aboozar Amini offers a glimpse into the lives of two Afghan brothers: Samim, a Taliban soldier, and Rafi, a 14-year-old boy. The film, which was screened in the feature documentary competition, opens with Samim praying, a mournful voice rising as he recites the names of friends killed in the war.
Throughout the film, the director captures the everyday life of the two brothers in parallel sequences. He shows their spontaneous actions and those who surround them. For instance, in a scene where Samim is stationed at a checkpoint on a bridge in Kabul, he meets with two young pedestrians with whom he interacts warmly even though he is supposed to tell them to move along, and one of them mentions his wish to attend a military academy and become a soldier. He even exaggerates by declaring that Afghanistan is the best country in the world. When Samim questions his sincerity, the boy admits, “it’s just because of the camera.” This scene and many others testify to the ingenuity of the way the filmmaker manages to reveal the reality of life in Afghanistan.
Another significant scene features Rafi engaging directly with the camera. He recites a portion of the Quran, discussing the verses he appreciates the most. Although he confesses that he doesn’t fully understand them, he enjoys the rhythm. The scene takes a natural turn when the filmmaker inquires about Rafi’s crush, causing the boy’s face to flush with embarrassment as he smiles and reveals the name of his beloved.
One of the film’s most compelling aspects is how the filmmaker intersperses scenes of the main characters with shots of Kabul’s streets, particularly its bustling market life. At times, he captures moments where people take dates from a vendor without paying, emphasising the everyday realities of life in the city. Despite the film’s vibrant portrayal of daily life, it creates a misleading impression that life under Taliban rule is easy, contrasting sharply with narratives presented in Western media. However, the filmmaker also includes scenes that raise questions about the underlying tensions.
One notable moment occurs when Samim, while on night duty, encounters a woman in a taxi who appears disoriented and sleepy. Assuming she is drunk, he seeks assistance from a superior officer. This tragic scene unfolds over several minutes, but the filmmaker transitions to the next scene without revealing the outcome, leaving the audience in suspense. Here as elsewhere the film’s beauty is in the filmmaker’s vision, as he delves into the brothers’ emotions and daily experiences while also providing sweeping aerial views of Kabul, capturing Afghans as they navigate their lives.
* A version of this article appears in print in the 23 October, 2025 edition of Al-Ahram Weekly
Short link: