Martina Melilli’s Love Letter to Libya

By Victoria D’Amico

My Home, In Libya, is Martina Melilli’s love letter to her culture– or specifically, her
grandparents’ culture, as refugees forced out of Italy’s Libyan colony in 1970. In collaboration
with Mahmoud, a young Libyan man communicating with Martina over texts, the two are able to piece together a picture of Libya that today, is completely unrecognizable. Martina’s
grandparents lived in Tripoli under and post Italy’s period of colonialism, where the country
yearned for independence but found relative stability. Decades later, Mahmoud lives in the same Tripoli, at least physically; however, finds himself in a country of disarray in the aftermath of the assassination of Muammar Gaddafi. The film not only navigates the audience through these two periods, but gives them an opportunity to evaluate Libya’s political climate through history. This documentary styled by a series of found photos, text messages, and footage, charts the course of Libya’s independent culture and where it finds itself today– an attempt to showcase both the negatives and positives of this progression.

But where does this style of filmmaking fall short? With its quiet ambience and collages,
the aestheticism of the piece often comes between what the film is trying to convey. Melilli’s
collection of photographs and handwritten notes tend to romanticize a dark time in Libya’s
history– this can be attributed to the fact that in these moments, she is looking at Libya through
the context of her gradparent’s relationship. Her grandparents, who identify more so as Italians
than Libyans. Furthermore, as Tripoli is explored through these montages, little to no context is
given in order to adhere to the soft style of this kind of documentary filmmaking. The voiceover
of the grandparents discuss how they met each other, their home, and moving to Italy– it is not
often they speak of the civil unrest that came with living in a colonized country. This starkly
contrasts the perspective and photos we get from Mahmoud– visuals of the deaths of children,
descriptions of the feelings of bombs, the reality of government censorship and dictatorship.
However, while the information is vastly different, it is presented the same; fitted into their text
messages to keep Melilli’s aesthetic. The style almost makes it hard to perceive this information
as serious as it is, especially when there is such emphasis on how difficult it was to get that
information in the first place. In addition to this, the back and forth between Melilli and Mahmoud depicts a flourishing relationship between the two, but at moments, there are messages included that add more to the dramatic flair than to the story of an ever-changing Libya.

Yes, it is necessary to show the softer sides of their relationship– in a way, it also sets up
a parallel to humanize Libya’s history in comparison to Mahmoud’s reality. Furthermore,
Mahmoud’s reality has a dichotomy to it; spliced between death and destruction, the audience
sees moments such as his graduation. When presented in the form of text messages (or photos
with no context) the significance of these moments, good or bad, blur. In a way, these moments
are not comparable, and in being compared, their severity lessens and meanings change.
Ultimately, the style of the documentary trumps the exploration of Tripoli as an ever changing
country– making it a beautiful documentary to watch, but one that feels hollow at times.

Exploring the Depths of Humanity: A Review of “Cairo Station” by Youssef Chahine

By Antoniah Etienne

The film “Cairo Station” (1958) is a powerful critique of the human condition, set in the
bustling streets of Cairo, the capital of Egypt. It explores themes such as love, obsession and
social marginalization, as well as the complexities of human relations and urban life. “Cairo
Station” is primarily concerned with the social hierarchy and economic inequalities that exist in
Egyptian society. The film follows the story of a disabled newspaper vendor, Qinawi, who falls
in love with the beautiful soda vendor, Hannuma. Qinawi’s obsession with Hannuma is a
metaphor for the despair and loneliness of those who are considered undesirable or insignificant
in society.
The cinematography of “Cairo Station” is one of the most impressive aspects of the film. It
captures the atmosphere of the station and the chaotic streets of Cairo, with Chahine’s skillful
direction that immerses the viewer in the chaos of urban life. The film’s use of long shots and
close-ups creates an intimacy and tension that draws the viewer into the characters’ inner
turmoil. The film also offers a nuanced look at gender and sexual politics in Egyptian society.
Actress Hind Rostom plays Hannuma, a woman who challenges traditional gender norms by
asserting her autonomy and self-determination in a patriarchal society. Hannuman’s interactions with the protagonist, Qinawi, as well as other male characters, serve as a reminder of the difficulties that women face in meeting societal expectations while also asserting their autonomy.
While “Cairo Station” is undeniably a compelling and thought provoking film, there are a
few things that could have been better conveyed. One of the most glaring issues is how the
character of Qinawi (the disabled newspaper vendor in love with Hannuma) is portrayed. His
obsessive behavior serves as the film’s central theme, but some critics argue that this
one-dimensional portrayal of him reinforces negative stereotypes of disability and mental illness, detracting from his character’s complexity and detracting from the movie’s exploration of social marginalization. The subplot of Hannuma’s relationship with Abu Siri (her fiancé) is also underdeveloped and lacks depth. Hannuma and Abu Siri’s relationship is overshadowed by their central romance, leaving viewers with questions about what their relationship really means and how it fits into the larger narrative. A more in-depth exploration of Hannuma and Abu’s relationship could have added to her character’s depth and provided valuable insight into the dynamics of gender and power struggles within Egyptian society. “Cairo station” is an engaging and visually stunning movie, but its shortcomings prevent it from achieving its full potential as a thoughtful exploration of human relationships.
In conclusion, “Cairo Station” remains one of the most important Egyptian films of all time.
It’s a captivating tale of urban life and social marginalization. The film’s characterization of
some characters and sub-plots may not be as insightful as it could be, but the film’s overall
themes of love, lust, and social injustice strike a deep chord with viewers. Despite its
shortcomings, ‘Cairo Station’ stands as an example of how cinema can inspire thought and ignite dialogue about the complexities of the human experience. As we navigate through the
ever-changing world of modern life, the lessons we learn from “Cairo Station” remain a reminder of the constant struggle for dignity and a sense of belonging in a world full of difficulties.