Drew Burnett Gregory is back at Sundance bringing daily updates on the best of LGBTQ+ cinema and beyond. Follow along for more coverage or read her review of Where the Wind Comes From below.
“We grew up together.” That’s how 19-year-old Alyssa and 23-year-old Mehdi describe their relationship in writer/director Amel Guellaty’s debut. Everyone wants to know if they’re dating, when they’ll be dating, if they want to be dating, but they think of themselves more as siblings. They’re friends. They’re family.
But when Alyssa discovers an art contest that will allow the winner and their spouse a six-month residency in Germany, she begins to warm to the idea of marriage. Mehdi is a talented artist and she believes he can win. For himself, sure, but also for her.
Alyssa and Mehdi live in Tunisia where the hope of revolution has settled into a new stasis of economic inequality and high unemployment. Mehdi holds out hope that his computer science degree will get him a job. Alyssa just wants out.
She also wants to escape her family situation. Since her dad died, her mother has been sick, and it’s become Alyssa’s responsibility to take care of her younger sister. She loves her family, but she believes her mother’s sickness is just grief. And Alyssa is grieving too in her own quiet way.
Alyssa fixates on this contest as the answer to all her problems. Once Mehdi is selected as a finalist, she’s determined to get the two of them to Djerba where the winner will be chosen — even if that means stealing a car.
The dynamic between Alyssa and Mehdi is a classic. Alyssa is the fiery spirit and Mehdi is the sensitive artist. But the more time we spend with the two of them, the more we see how much they have in common. Alyssa is also an artist, having been taught woodworking by her father, and we see this manifest in her fantastic daydreams. Mehdi also has a fire in him, one just waiting to come out.
The film works so well, because it takes the conventions of this dynamic and the conventions of the road movie and grounds them in the specifics of these characters and the contemporary youth experience of Tunisia. There’s a propulsive energy to the film that makes it a blast to watch even as the characters face hardships.
Guellaty also works as a photographer and that’s evident in the gorgeous look of the film. The characters are often kept in the lower half of the frame as if Guellaty and DP Frida Marzouk are leaving space for their dreams. Marzouk’s wonderful work can also be seen in Alam and Happy Holidays and she’s quickly becoming one of my favorite working cinematographers.
Eya Bellagha and Slim Baccar are exceptional as Alyssa and Mehdi. It really does feel like they’ve known each other for years and years. In moments of humor and in moments of hardship, they make Alyssa and Mehdi feel completely real. I hope both actors become regular faces in Tunisian cinema and beyond.
At one point during their road trip, Alyssa begins to explore her sexuality. But I appreciate that Where the Wind Comes From doesn’t use lesbianism as an explanation for why she and Mehdi aren’t dating. Maybe Alyssa is a lesbian or maybe she’s bi or maybe she’s just exploring. But the reason she and Mehdi aren’t dating is deeper. They’re friends. They’re siblings. They grew up together.
Where the Wind Comes From is now streaming on the Sundance online platform.
