johnnyboyz Dry Season is an interesting little pot-boiler of human emotion. It begins with a fair degree of hatred, before moulding into a film in which its lead must attain a certain respect. It then moulds further still into a tale of specific fondness two people have for one another, before concluding with a moral set piece complete with questions raising issues to do with honour, both to those you've known your whole life and to those you've come to know and respect in the short term. The development of the agents involved in Dry Season is fascinating and the power play going on between them carries a distinct sense of menace as we await the explosion of raw, human emotion as the act of revenge is carried out.But Dry Season is all about getting to that obligatory scene, the scene that completes the lead's goal; it's all about what happens prior to that event and the chance to engage in that event. As it happens, the film has its own clever little spin on that notion with a finale that is quite magnificent. The film begins in a small town in Chad, in which Atim (Barkai) and his grandfather overhear an announcement on the radio declaring the lack of action that will be taken against Civil War-time war criminals. From here, the film creates an interesting juxtaposition between backdrop and emotional drive for its lead; a state of war that caused the whole country to clash has already ended; but a state of war, or distinct act of aggression, within the nation between two persons, or families, is about to begin again.During the Civil War, Atim's father was killed by a man named Nassara (Djaoro); an individual living close by in a larger town than the one Atim currently inhabits. Armed, rather ritualistically, with his father's old gun; Atim travels to this place to kill Nassarsa. Initially, Dry Season is a genre piece. It's use, and slight spin, on the revenge arc as a drive for it's narrative is interesting as this young and lonely lead travels to a new and busier place to commit amoral acts on someone we have to presume is equally amoral. It represents a pushing of the film into a realm that makes it a lot more accessible than one might initially think. But, the film realises this, and rather than become a hard-boiled and cause and effect driven piece that sees the lead rampage his way through the new town in search for his ultimate goal, it places him with the antagonistic force of the piece early on, seeing them spend time together for the rest of the film's duration.When Atim first meets Nassara, one knows whom the other is but the other does not fit into the same scenario. It turns out Nassara is a holy man and a frequenter of a mosque. He is a man who runs a bakery and hands out bread to the children each morning in many-a notion of goodwill. He will, as will his pregnant wife, soon be a parent and whilst Atim is there purely to offer death by way of pistol, Nassara can only offer life in return by way of pieces of bread. For Atim, Nassara develops into a fatherly figure; a figure Atim never had because of said man. For Nassara, Atim becomes somewhat of a son-like figure; someone he can pass on his learnings to, employ in the bakery and generally keep in contact with by way of close proximity.As the two spend more and more time with each other, we begin to question Atim's drive. He is this close to his goal, but he holds back. Then we realise his father was killed before he was born, and that maybe the fact that specific personal connection between father and son was never there in the first place, it will blind Atim somewhat when it comes to carrying out an act of revenge on behalf of someone Atim, essentially, never even met. We begin to wonder if Atim subscribes to the belief retribution should be carried out on general principal and we doubt if he is still willing to follow through in his mission, rendering the film far more unpredictable than we first thought after twenty or so minutes, when familiar narrative arcs and genre seemed to be the order of the day. Atim's varying emotions act as one of the more interesting elements to the film. I was genuinely unconvinced if Atim would sway either way in terms of actually killing Nassara, and additionally spent some of the time wondering what payoff, indeed what new order, would unravel if Nassara was to remain alive.As the film enters its final third, there is a distinct shift in temperaments as these two characters shift away from their respective fatherly and son-like figures. The two seem to suddenly share a fair amount of homo-erotic scenes together, as they engage in long pauses with one another while, at other points, Nassara gazes back at Atim's sweaty body as he does his work. There is one instance in which Atim tries to apply something to the back of Nassara's head and they roll about a bit with one another on the ground before sharing a moment. The content aids in pushing the characters away from the relationship they already shared; and in one final act of might-be homo-eroticism, Atim invites Nassara back to where he initially lived so that he can be introduced to the rest of his family. But queer theory aside, Dry Season is a genuinely intriguing study of raw human emotion as opposing sides bond.

Doug Galecawitz perhaps the stereotypes of Americans being impatient with storytelling and in need of action is true. i found myself perpetually bored by this film. this in and of itself would not be such a bad thing, lots of film bore me. but this one actually has some decent storytelling to it. the problem comes from a lack of willingness to edit down the film, to move things along. too many shots of characters sitting around looking as if they are waiting to be filmed or photographed, glances caught at some distant nothing. mock modeling sessions for calvin klein ads. shots that consist of little more than a character walking across the frame. some tighter editing would have brought this same story in at around 45 to 50 minutes and would have lost nothing but fillers and time killers.

Chris Knipp Like Koreeda's 'Hana', Haroun's 'Daratt' is another new filmed tale about delayed revenge, but a very different one. Atim (Ali Barkkai), whose father was murdered in the aftermath of Chad's civil war, goes out to avenge his father's killer after a general amnesty is declared. His plans change when in order to carry out his task he goes to work at the killer's bakery. While Koreeda's Soza is timid and doubtful and lives with a lot of other people, Atim is virtually alone and perpetually angry and seems ready to kill at any moment.'Revenge is a dish best enjoyed cold' means it's not a crime of passion but of premeditation. Into that premeditation play not only a personal sense of wrong but often hereditary cultural rules governing loyalty to tribe, clan, family, or parent. It seems unlikely anyone would feel obligated to carry out an act of revenge (as both Soza and Atim do) without cultural input requiring it; and since traditional values are in a state of flux or devolution, the motivation may wane. This must explain the arcs of both 'Hana' and 'Daratt'. Soza of 'Hana' feels an obligation to his clan, which however his own nature rejects; he's a gentle soul who would rather teach calligraphy than practice his dubious swordsmanship skills -- which don't seem to translate well from the dojo to the street. Atim is directed by his ancient, blind grandfather to avenge his father's death. It seems almost a religious duty, and in some folk interpretations of Islam such obligations are given a religions sanction. In fact, though, when Atim arrives at the unidentified town where his "victim" lives and begins working for his father's killer, he refuses to go to the mosque with him, perhaps sensing that subjugation to the will of God might dampen his sense of purpose, or because he realizes his bloody mindedness ill fits a religion whose greeting is "peace be upon you." 'Daratt's' fable-like quality arises from its forceful simplicity. Each character has some iconic function. Atim's grandfather Gumar Abatcha (Khayar Oumar Defallah) acts as a relentless force of judgment. The soldier who is nasty to Atim on his trip (Abderamane Abakar) is a minor wrong-doer, who disrespects Atim, which also must be avenged. Upon arrival Atim's befriended by an amiable petty thief, Moussa (Djibril Ibrahim), who helps him get established in town, but whom he summarily abandons once he narrows in on his task. When we first see Nassara (Youssouf Djaoro), the man who killed Atim's father, it's obvious he is more important. He looks like a priest. He is a tall, thin man in a robe with a scarf around his neck and a distant, ascetic air -- off-putting, but not easy to despise on sight -- and he appears at a gate with a bag full of bread scraps that he distributes to poor boys who come to him with tin plates. This happens several times, and then Atim goes up to Nassara. Everything about Atim from first to last suggests inarticulate rage. One would say his performance was one-note were it not so strong and convincing. He takes the proffered hunk of bread, bites out of it, then spits it out. The man says if he wants work, to come back tomorrow. Nobody talks much in the film. In fact Nassara has had his throat slit during the war and has to hold a gadget up to his neck to be able to say anything.The strength of the film comes from its tension and suspense, from the accumulating power of things left unexplained. It is never obvious, right up to the last scene, what Atim is going to do. When he stays with Nassara and is befriended uneasily by his young wife Aicha (Aziza Hiseine) and begins to work for him, it's not clear why. Is he biding his time to achieve maximum surprise? Or is he simply hesitating? Moreover while evidently Nassara is becoming fond of the young man, it's hard to say whether Atim is liking him more or feeding his hate. Certainly the situation is complicated by the fact that in some strange way Nassara has become a surrogate father figure for Atim (an outcome recalling events in the Dardennes brothers' 'The Son'), but also because, when Nassara's back is killing him and he lets Atim do all the baking, it delights Atim to accomplish this task with success. Nassara like Atim is silent and seems full of anger, further linking the two men, young and old, in an uneasy embrace. One of the most vivid ever portraits on film of prolonged, inarticulate rage, 'Daratt' is also a more emotionally intense and convincing depiction than Koreeda's 'Hana' of how someone bent on revenge might waver painfully over the task.'Daratt' is a fascinating, powerful tale. Its intensity, its vividness, its simplicity, even the dry heat of the setting, all conspire to make for a riveting film.Shown as part of the San Francisco International Film Festival 2007.

guy-bellinger The premise of this fable is as simple as it is powerful: in an African country torn by civil war, a sixteen-year-old orphan is asked by his blind grandfather to execute the man who killed his father. Of course, Atim, the young one, having been brought up along "An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth" lines, does not object in the least and, armed with the gun of his own father, hits the road to accomplish his mission. It does not take him long to trace Nassara, the war criminal in question. However the man is in no way the monster Atim expected to meet. On the contrary, Nassara has become a respectable married baker, whose young wife is pregnant. The ex-killer even goes to the mosque and gives alms to the poor children of his village. But Atim knows all too well that this good man once made HIM an orphan so the best thing to do is to offer his services to the baker who accepts to hire him as his apprentice. This way Atim will be able to gun him down easily when the appropriate time comes. But things do not go according to plan. Do they ever…?For, little by little, and very paradoxically indeed, a son-father relationship is born, and it becomes more and more impossible for Atim to kill Nassara .On the other hand, the young man does not want to betray his grandfather. You could think this is a no way out situation but Mahamat Saleh Haroun has imagined an amazing finale in which he enables his hero to square the circle: by pretending to execute Nassara in front of his grandfather who –remember – is blind. Satisfied with the two bangs he hears, the grandfather feels revenged while Atim has spared the life of the man he has learned to know.The moral of the fable is clear: forgive your enemies, try to live together in peace, this is the only way to unify your country, to make it become a democracy. Of course all this sounds a bit saintly, not to say goody-goody, but Haroun is neither wet nor soft-headed. If Nassara can be forgiven it is because he has become another man, and pardon constitutes a long and difficult process. Moreover, it is not always possible, for instance for the vile, arrogant, gun crazy soldier Atim meets in the "taxi brousse". When after being threatened and humiliated by him, the orphan meets him again, he beats him up (and maybe kills him) without being explicitly condemned by the writer/director.Mahamat Saleh Haroun is a courageous artist. Indeed it takes tremendous energy to manage to make a film in a poor country , ravaged by civil war for four decades, like Chad. Moreover he doesn't shy away from burning issues, for he doesn't rub everybody up the right way.As a filmmaker, he proves able, particularly good when it comes to directing the actors. I suppose the persons who act in this film are amateurs but you would never say so, convincing as they are.Haroun has indeed managed to make Ali Bacha Barkaï really impressive as the troubled gun-toting teenager, although he lets him be too invariably sulky to be perfect. Youssouf Djaoro, for his part, captures to perfection all the strengths and weaknesses of his character and deserves a best actor award, although I am pretty certain he will never get any.The only real flaw (but a serious one I am afraid) is the film's lazy rhythm. Too bad because, except during the last ten minutes, this viewer was more interested than captivated, more respectful than overcome by emotion. All the same "Daratt" is well worth seeing and is a good insight into a country most of the time ignored by the media. So feel free to see it.