“Souleymane’s Story,” directed by Frenchman Boris Lojkine (“Hope”), premiered this year at Cannes in Un Certain Regard, where it won the Jury Prize and the Performance Prize. Watching this film reminded me of the powerful films made by the social realist Belgian directors the Dardenne brothers (“La Promesse,” “Two Days, One Night”) about the often tragic and exploitative fate of urban immigrants and migrants in Western Europe.
Lojkine’s film follows a Guinean food-delivery driver (Abou Sangare, striking and subtle in his first screen role) through his harried and exhausting job, racing long distances in bike lanes past heavy Paris traffic to deliver meals and then struggling to catch the last bus to the refugee shelter where he sleeps with other immigrants—otherwise he ends up sleeping in the rough. His pay is small and determined by how many jobs he completes, but a slice of those commissions is taken by the man who operates his account. Those scenes of him at work are tracked from behind and jaggedly edited to build tension and a sense of immediacy. Watching the film, my mind rapidly went to all the New York City immigrants delivering food on their motor bikes who are in danger of masked ICE officers swooping down and arresting them and sending them to El Salvador or other forsaken places. In contrast, the Parisian police in the film may play sadistic games when they stop Souleymane, but they ultimately let him go with his illegal identification intact, for Souleymane is an undocumented immigrant who is seeking asylum through the French Office for the Protection of Refugees and Stateless Persons (OFPRA). In two days, he has an in-person interview where he plans to provide a fabricated story about escaping prison after being arrested for political activism in Guinea. The apolitical Souleymane must memorize a political tale to convince the questioner. The story has been supplied by a man who provides the script to many migrants, and he even adds documents to make it more convincing.
Souleymane’s existence is harrowing, but the agony is muted somewhat by the camaraderie and shared humor and warmth of the other migrants and even a momentary connection with an aged customer. Still, the director does not idealize the migrant community—there is one man who owes Souleymane money and throws him down the stairs, bloodying him. And Souleymane has left his girlfriend and mentally ill mother behind in Africa, which the film poignantly captures in separate phone calls. In fact, his mother’s condition was probably the main reason he came to France, so he could make enough money to pay for her to find a place to sleep.
The film concludes with an extremely moving, beautifully conceived sequence where Souleymane finally goes for his crucial interview, conducted by an unnamed OFPRA agent (Nina Meurisse), who performs with quiet and consummate sensitivity as she questions him about the story that has been constructed for him. He gets confused about the details, and as she types out his responses, one can sense her quiet empathy for him, but it is never articulated; however, she tells him she is there to listen to him. He then, in halting fashion, openly tells his true story, which involves his mother being treated with contempt by the community and his being imprisoned and tortured on his trek to Paris. The film provides no magical resolution. It then turns to black as he is told his status will be resolved in a month. “Souleymane’s Story” is an unexpected discovery.
