Notturno (2020)

Though I found this to be a bit too rudderless for me, there are two quite differently compelling scenes in this documentary from Gianfranco Rosi that stood out for me. The first sees a young lad describing a wall of seemingly innocuous children’s sketches in his classroom that have altogether more sinister meaning, the second sees a group of men, clad in red, imprisoned in a fashion that reminded me of the conditions we might have provided for battery hens. The rest of the imagery here, accrued over some three years of filming, shows just what life in the “Caliphate” was like for communities, especially the Yazidi, across Syria, Kurdistan, Lebanon and parts of Iraq as the zealous and militaristic ISIS enforced it’s interpretation of Islamic law across a fairly expansive region of the Middle East. There’s no narration, just a series of observations that occasionally feature dialogue from amongst a population coming to terms with the ruination of their towns and villages. Though it does reference the excesses of their new authoritarianism, it’s the perilous emptiness of so many existences that are showcased here. People clearly have hope, faith, optimism and that’s quite impressive given the disintegration surrounding their society which is well captured by a photography that is both intimate at times and offers us scale at others. It does meander, though, and perhaps the thousand day timeline lacks for a potent focus. At it’s best, this is a poignant reflection of a life where religiosity and authority subsumed humanity and freedom, and where, despite that, life for many went on in as normal a fashion as possible, but I think it just needed more of a real-life, characterising, spine. It is worth a watch, though.