QUICK AND DIRTY: LIVE FROM CANNES

Souleymane (Abou Sangare) is an African refugee preparing for an upcoming interview with immigration authorities in Paris. The discussion will determine whether or not he can obtain a carte de séjour: giving him permission to live in France as a permanent citizen. Between his stint as a food deliverer, to his lodgings at a homeless shelter, Souleymane struggles to locate a sanctuary to rehearse for his exam, and in his sleepless state, strives for excellence whenever a free moment arises.Director Boris Lojkine follows his character over the course of three days. Souleymane narrowly makes the bus back to his shelter on the first night; is forced to locate another quarters the second night; while Lojkine’s attention is dedicated entirely to the test during the final third. We witness Souleymane engage with a clique of African immigrants: few of them affluent enough to rent a room, let alone purchase a house.

His patience is tested early on in the flick when a client refuses his delivery, costing Souleymane a commission in the process. Then there’s the angry restaurant manager, a boss of quick temper, who informs the exile “not to come back.” Finally, the protagonist’s friend – a comrade in work – proves hard to reach, despite owing Souleymane sufficient cash to procure the necessary papers for the meeting

As if that isn’t difficult enough to endure, Souleymane discovers that a woman he intended to marry has found another suitor. In an effort to reconcile a quantum of grief, the eponymous hero sits in prayer, absolving his past wrongdoings as a means of carrying on with his new life. This African immigré has few ambitions beyond the ones most Europeans take for granted: guaranteed warmth and security

Sangare brings a tender grittiness to the lead character, his eyes bursting with wistfulness. Souleymane is thrown down a flight of stairs, placing a visible wound on his face. Ever the courageous one, he stands up and marches, ironically embodying the indefatigable French spirit while doing so. The man’s tactics stem from survival, cycling across vast terrains of land to catch a train where his advisor (Alpha Oumar Sow) whips up this ludicrous backstory to bamboozle the nation’s authorities. Considering the severity of his situation, Souleymane has no option but to fork over the cash.

There are gestures of kindness: Souleymane receives free sweets and coffee from grateful co-workers, while his bunkmate provides words of wisdom that will make his transition into a lighter being. “The best thing you can do is turn off your phone,” Souleymane is told. Lojkine’s brilliance is that The Story of Souleymane shows the good and bad in French society: there are neither winners nor losers, just survivors. Souleymane brings a delivery to a police car, where he is mocked by one officer, and thanked by another. Everyone wears a smile and a frown for different purposes.

This attention to reality occasionally accounts for bad lighting: shadows dominate the frame, making it harder to discern which face belongs to which character. The Story of Souleymane suffers from audio problems; the background clatter at the homeless house is distractingly high in the mix. Technical problems aside, what audiences experience here is rawness, empathising with the real life struggle in a way that never patronises the subject. Sangare delivers a soulful, stirring portrait of a man in distress, a human in need of affection, instead of loneliness. Whatever the outcome of the meeting – Souleymane’s citizenship hinges on flourish and fabrication, an affectation that frightens him – there’s no doubt that the central character is a man of tremendous courage and restraint.

The Story of Souleymane is showing in the Un Certain Regard section of the 77th Cannes International Film Festival.