The vulnerability and disorientation of children due to displacement, family turmoil, and the tragedies of war have been portrayed in various forms by filmmakers around the world. One notable example is Bashu, the Little Stranger by the acclaimed Iranian director Bahram Beyzai—a story of a child who loses his home and family in a bombing and flees, distraught and fearful, from the south of Iran to a remote, peaceful region in the north. But even in this lush, green environment, everything feels foreign and unfamiliar to him. Na’i, a woman whose husband is away fighting at the front, offers Bashu shelter on her farm. She tries to help him adapt to the new surroundings, and gradually, the two find a shared language to communicate. Despite challenges and the biting remarks of neighbors, Na’i insists on keeping Bashu with her until her husband returns. One of the film’s most powerful moments occurs when Bashu, mistaking the returning man for a stranger, tries to protect Na’i—but when he realizes this is the man of the house, he extends a hand of friendship. The man, however, has left his right hand behind at the front.
Elsewhere in the world, in Poland, we can recall the gentle and poetic film Tricks (Sztuczki) by Andrzej Jakimowski—a work full of compassion for children. The film, which earned several international awards, including Best Actress for the young and talented Ewelina Walendziak, tells the poignant story of a six-year-old boy who tries to bring his estranged father back to the family. Every day, the boy watches the man at the train station as he leaves for work. The father doesn’t recognize his son, having left his wife for another woman when the boy was just a baby. Now in first grade, the child considers himself the “man of the house” in his father’s absence. He cares for his mother and younger sister and, through small tricks, attempts to reconnect with the man and reunite the family. Beyond strong performances, the film shines with dreamy visuals and a poetic atmosphere.
From Czech cinema, Dolls, the debut feature by Karin Babinska—whose short films have won numerous awards at festivals—offers a harsh and dark protest against the breakdown of family and the moral decline of youth in her country. The film tells the story of a group of eighteen-year-old girls who, having just finished high school, decide to drive from Prague to the Netherlands “automarse” style. One of the girls, who’s responsible for her younger brother after their family has fallen apart, brings him along. What begins as a joyful escape quickly turns into a terrifying nightmare, as the girls encounter one catastrophe after another, eventually discarded like used tissues into the trash heap of society.
Let us leave Europe and travel to China with The Red Awn, directed by Cai Shangjun—a striking look at another broken family. A man in his fifties, who abandoned his family years ago, returns to his rural hometown, only to find his wife has taken her life by poison, and no one is willing to acknowledge him. His name has been officially recorded as deceased in village records, and before anything else, he must prove he is alive. His teenage son views him as a stranger, blaming him for abandoning the family and for being absent during his mother’s death. The film portrays the painful struggle between father and son—both farmers—through silent tension and attempts at reconciliation. The father is often cocooned in silence, while the son seeks justice for his mother through confrontation.
The Red Awn is a surprising, cold, and seemingly fragmented film—but deeply dignified and full of empathy. A fitting companion to this story would be The Father (Pedar) by Majid Majidi.
