To a Land Unknown’s Destination Is Heartbreak

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In a secluded area of Athens, two cousins loiter in a city square, targeting tourists to rob. They are refugees and scavengers, belonging to a group of Palestinian men whose backgrounds bear striking similarities: they spent their childhoods in Syrian and Lebanese refugee camps; they were separated from their families while pursuing a supposedly better life in Europe; they experienced poverty, starvation, and homelessness. However, the profound despair that Mahmood Bakri’s character, Chatila, and Aram Sabbah’s character, Reda, endure in director Mahdi Fleifel’s film “To a Land Unknown” has strained their ethnic ties.

As a cinema enthusiast who’s deeply connected to my roots, I can truly relate to the experiences of Palestinian-Danish director Fleifel, who spent his formative years in the Ain el-Helweh refugee camp in Lebanon – a temporary settlement established post-Nakba for Palestinians displaced from their homes. Regrettably, what was intended as a temporary solution turned into an enduring reality, where generations of families have since lived. The Ain el-Helweh camp is the largest Palestinian refugee settlement in Lebanon, providing shelter to over 60,000 individuals, according to United Nations data from December 2023.

Fleifel’s cinematic journey commenced with his 2012 documentary “A World Not Ours“, drawing upon his collection of videos from visits back home to the camp and chronicling a childhood friend’s eventual departure from Ain el-Helweh for Greece. Over the ensuing years, Fleifel directed several short films delving into Palestinian culture and history, such as 2015’s “20 Handshakes for Peace” and “I Signed the Petition“, which offer a mix of anger and introspection concerning how exile reshapes political views and reorders personal priorities. Similar to “To a Land Unknown“, these films are rich with allusions to influential Palestinian intellectuals and artists, such as Edward Said and Mahmoud Darwish, paying homage to the diaspora’s expansive cultural influence.

In his debut full-length narrative film “To a Land Unknown“, Fleifel employs some techniques he used before. The movie is currently in limited release and will be widely available across the country soon. An early scene displays a quote by Said about Palestinians ending up “somewhere unexpected and far away”, following a sequence of images that concludes with Chatila and Reda looking directly into the camera. A character who appears unsavory initially gains depth through the recitation of excerpts from Darwish’s 1983 poem “In Praise of the High Shadow”, which was written while Darwish resided in besieged Beirut during Israel’s occupation. Alongside co-writers Fyzal Boulifa and Jason McColgan, Fleifel also delves into how being stateless affects people and whether opportunities for redemption exist under geographically divided circumstances. These questions serve as driving forces for the cousins in this film.

In this gripping film, I found myself captivated by the complex dynamics between two main characters, much like the unforgettable pairings in “Paradise Now,” “My Own Private Idaho,” and “Dog Day Afternoon.” Here we have Chatila, a streetwise, tactical, and relentless individual, and Reda, a compassionate, dreamy, and self-destructive soul.

Chatila and Reda, though seemingly polar opposites, share an undeniable connection that transcends their differences. They are men who complete each other’s sentences, yet stand in stark contrast to one another. Their bond is so profound that it surpasses any other relationship they have – a testament to the power of understanding and mutual need.

The film offers glimpses into the backstories of these cousins, primarily through phone conversations with their homeland, a Lebanese refugee camp where they were raised. Chatila left behind a wife and young son, while Reda’s mother expresses concerns about his relapsing into a destructive addiction.

Throughout the movie, subtle hints of Palestinian history are woven into the narrative, such as when the character Tatiana (Angeliki Papoulia) calls Chatila by a feminine name, unaware that it shares a name with a Palestinian refugee camp in Beirut – a place where a 1982 massacre took place, resulting in thousands of deaths over two days, with exit routes intentionally blocked. This moment serves as a poignant reminder of the characters’ roots and the struggles they carry within them.

Title “To a Land Unknown” may not immediately convey its relevance to viewers unfamiliar with the context. However, for those who are aware, it mirrors the film’s somber atmosphere with striking resonance to the current turmoil in Gaza and escalating violence in the West Bank. This correlation supports director Elia Suleiman’s view that displacement is a precursor to the annihilation of the human spirit. The characters Chatila and Reda, planning their escape from Athens to Germany, contemplate opening a café together. However, their ambitions lead them to employ false identities, hostage-taking, and a web of lies that ultimately harms themselves and others. The climax of their friendship reaches a breaking point, where Bakri portrays the disruption with raw intensity while Sabbah reacts with quiet despair. Both performances are impactful, particularly when it becomes clear that Chatila, whom Bakri considers his dearest ally, exploits him without remorse. This poignant scene sets the stage for the film’s transition into a gripping thriller genre, further emphasized by Nadah El Shazly’s ominous synth score.

To a Land Unknown doesn’t claim that Chatila and Reda’s actions are always justified, but it evokes the words of Darwish, suggesting that they live in a state akin to that described in “A State of Siege” (2002): “Under siege, time becomes a fixed location / eternally solidified / Under siege, place becomes a fleeting moment / abandoned by past and future.” Chatila and Reda are trapped in a temporal and spatial reality where they are invisible to the public eye.

To a Land Unknown portrays their predicament as an unjustifiable ordeal, something that defies logic and reality, reminiscent of Kafka’s works. However, it also subtly conveys a deep sense of desolation in the way it makes us empathize with their suffering and the opportunities and chances lost due to their statelessness. It would be absurd to turn a blind eye to this situation.

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2025-07-10 21:54