Here – A gorgeous study of fragile human bonds

A delicate study of human interaction in a space where the urban and the natural collide from director Bas Devos.

There’s a sense of harmony between natural and urban landscapes in Here, Flemish director Bas Devos’ fourth feature which won the Encounters Award and the FIPRESCI prize at the Berlinale in 2023. The opening takes its time: the first lingering image is of a tower block under construction, framed by a gap in some trees. We move closer to find a group of builders in the skeleton of the building. Their faces are hidden, their voices are distant, and a lone figure in hi-vis and hard hat contemplates the view; a moment of peace amidst the industrial clanging.

Here is, unsurprisingly, very much about a specific place (Brussels). But it’s also rooted in a sense of what it truly means to be present, and of finding connection when you yourself feel rootless, especially as an immigrant. Shot on 16mm, the film is rich with the verdant green of hedgerows that grow out of disused railway tracks and the golden glow of sunrise and sunset, making the mundane luminous and even the smallest weed a miracle of nature. The camera rarely moves and there is virtually no score, inviting the viewer to see the world through the eyes of the film’s contemplative protagonists.

Solitary Romanian construction worker Stefan (Stefan Gota) has a kind of transitory existence — he lives alone in a tower block exactly like the ones he helps build and as an insomniac he wanders the deserted city at night. He’s considering moving back to Romania for good, and empties his fridge by making batches of vegetable soup he gives out to his friends and acquaintances. Played with an understated warmth by Gota, he seems attuned to the wonder of everyday life, watching trains pull into the station at dawn, or cradling some seeds he finds in his pocket.

We then meet another independent soul, Belgian-Chinese botanist Shuxiu (beautifully played by Liyo Gong, a non- professional actor), who is studying moss. She too has trouble sleeping: in Chinese she describes waking from a dream and being unable to recall the words for any of the objects in her room, an experience that is frightening but also makes her feel a sense of oneness with the world around her. The pair meet by chance and their shared sense of Otherness, both as immigrants but also as people with a sense of awe for what is often overlooked, binds them together.

At only 84 minutes and light on plot, at times this film feels so slight that it might just slip through your fingers. And yet its ethereality is what makes it enchanting. Devos blurs the boundaries between dreams and reality, juxtaposing moments of magic realism with merely the kind of awe you can experience in everyday life if you give yourself the time to look. And though the two leads actually have precious little screen time together, when they do meet it feels quietly momentous, both as if their time on earth has led up to this, but also that it’s just another day.

Published 7 Jun 2024