The World of Movies: Heaven Without People
Written by Rachael Crawley
The World of Movies is a series that explores global cinema, drawing on films from many countries, industries and eras. This week, we attend a family gathering in Lebanon.
Heaven Without People.
May contain spoilers.
Ah, Easter! That joyous spring holiday, a time to join your family for a celebratory meal. For this family, however, it can get a little complicated.
I’ve always been fond of a particular plot type – a large, mixed-up family reunites over a holiday or life event, which brings decades of old dynamics into the spotlight. Generally, someone is keeping a secret, people who haven’t spoken in years are brought together, and longstanding conflicts are suddenly under scrutiny. Done well, such films can be highly resonant; poorly handled, they are confusing and tedious.
Heaven Without People (Lucien Bourjeily, 2017) is closer to the former than the latter. A large family (I don’t think their surname is ever given) holds an Easter lunch. It is apparently the first time they have all been together in years. Our gateway to the family is through their son Serge, who has brought his girlfriend Leila to meet them.
So many notes in this story are recognizable to viewers – the confusion of keeping track of family members, the gentle teasing and inside jokes, the default to old roles and expectations. Bourjeily manages to hit the balance of easy familiarity with the small underlying tensions of old arguments. I particularly enjoyed the pacing, from excited chatter to quiet lulls. The movie is dialogue-heavy, but feels authentically so. As the evening moves on, anecdotes give way to more substantial topics, primarily about politics, religion, and society. Even personal problems turn out to have broader implications. While for the most part people stay cordial, there is still an edge to the conversation.
Heaven Without People.
From there, the story branches off, both to other spaces in the apartment and to other developing plotlines. The dining room is the hub – even as drama occurs a few feet away, the characters are anchored there under a polite veneer. Such heavy material, delivered in a range from casual to heated, would have to be difficult for the cast to pull off – with its confined spaces and focused dialogue, it is basically a play. All of them carry off this balance quite well, which is doubly impressive when you consider that many of them are non-actors.
Though I can tell they’re going for a naturalistic feel, the handheld camera and claustrophobic space of the apartment can start to get a bit disorienting. Occasionally, I also found the characters’ actions to be somewhat past credibility (some things can be put off until after lunch with the in-laws). The weakest part of the movie, though, is its last twenty minutes or so – it’s as if the director left the volume control on high. It would work better with more nuance to the conversation, rather than non-stop, full-on yelling. The final frames, however, are satisfying in their own right.
There is a lot to recommend in this movie. Its ring of authenticity, and window into the various perspectives of Lebanon, are both strong points in its favour. Despite its decline in the last few minutes, Heaven Without People has plenty to offer. I’d chiefly recommend it to those curious about Lebanese film – and of course, those who cannot resist the “family dinner” plot.
Rachael Crawley holds a Master's Degree in Film and Photography Preservation and Collections Management from Ryerson University, and has worked with film in Canada and in Europe. She adores language and cinema, and how these subjects interact with each other.