Never Leave Me' ('Birakma Beni'): Film Review | Dubai 2017

by - 7:07:00 PM

Bosnian executive Aida Begic looks at the exile emergency from the p.o.v. of three dislodged Syrian young men.

There are many touching characters and circumstances in Never Leave Me (Birakma Beni), the new movie by Bosnian essayist chief Aida Begic, yet these auspicious stories of damaged children experience serious difficulties taking shape into an undeniable show. Coming back to the subject of kids and war after her 2012 Children of Sarajevo, which got a unique jury refinement in Cannes' Certain Regard, she looks past the Balkans to the destiny of Syrian vagrants and youngster displaced people in Turkey. The film opened the Antalya Film Festival, trailed by bows at Pingyao and Dubai.

In a graveyard in Syria, the mother of 14-year-old (Isa Demlakhi) is being covered. His face is fixed, passive (significantly later, we discover that his dad kicked the bucket in a mischance some time prior, probably identified with the war). At the point when the last grievers leave, Isa is advised to gather his things and clear the flat where he and Mom had been living. In short request, he flees and crosses the outskirt into eastern Turkey, stirred up in hordes of edgy workers.

Without clarifying precisely how it happens, Isa ends up in a little, genial shelter for Syrian exile kids keep running by warm mother hen Doaa (a consoling Carole Abboud) and her assistants. The town is Sanliurfa, the old multiethnic city of Turks, Kurds and Arabs, yet this brilliant place assumes a disappointingly little part in the story.

In the home, Isa first battles, at that point bonds with two more youthful young men, the enormous peered toward Muataz (Motaz Faez Basha) whose fantasy is to sing on a TV ability show, and (Ahmad Husrom), who misses his trooper father so much he considers him to be a phantom. To procure cash, Isa persuades them to play hooky and offer tissues in the city, a burdensome undertaking, as Begic appears in an all around coordinated scene that suitably reflects individuals' exhausted lack of interest to road urchins.

Isa desperately needs to pay off a puzzling obligation to a sneering hoodlum who appears to have flown up all of a sudden. At a certain point, the miscreant undermines to take a kidney from each of the young men on the off chance that they don't pay up. Frightening however improbable bits like this give the film a mellow children's story air liable to claim more to youthful watchers than to grown-ups.

Once in a while the unsteady narrating essentially isn't clear; for instance, who is the kid tossed out of the house by his dad since he doesn't bring home 50 liras? He dances all through the trio's life. A sketchy road young lady who kicks the young men out of her working spot on a scaffold appears like an encouraging character, yet she too blurs away rapidly.

Another entwined story appears went for demonstrating the exploitative mentality of the neighborhood inhabitants. Little Tukka, another tyke from the home, has her heart set on purchasing a pigeon she can't bear. The grinning pigeon merchant declines to acknowledge the minimal expenditure she can raise on rehash visits.

With meager sensational development pushing the story forward, one would have jumped at the chance to see more prominent mental profundity in the three young men, who are emulated by competent non-star performers ready to cull the heartstrings with their awful backstories. Muataz, for example, uncovers that the reason he needs to go on TV is to demonstrate to his mom, who relinquished him, that he merits adoring and bringing home. In the last scenes, Doaa has compassion for him and organizes a tryout, yet since nobody has ever heard him sing, there is an unexpected pausing.

Cast: Isa Damlakhi, Ahmad Husrom, Motaz Faez Basha, Carole Abboud, Tuka Na'al

Chief screenwriter: Aida Begic

Makers: Seyyid Muhammed Emin Elhuseyni, Aida Begic, Adis Dapo

Chief of photography: Erol Zubcevic

Outfit originator: Sanja Dzeba

Music: Igot Camo

Editorial manager: Redzinald Simek

Throwing: Timka Grin, Harika Uygur

Scene: Dubai Film Festival (Arabian Nights)

96 minutes

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