‘To a Land Unknown’ Review: Mahdi Fleifel’s Unforgettable Feature Debut is a Rousing Reflection on Displacement | TIFF

In Mahdi Fleifel’s much-anticipated feature debut, following a number of widely acclaimed shorts, the refugee experience is depicted in ways very few films have succeeded in bringing to the screen: raw, grounded, unpretentious and credible. While most films on the subject matter have resorted to pity-inducing tropes, opting to look at their experience from a distance, Fleifel goes right at the heart of such experience, placing us in the shoes of the film’s heartbreaking central protagonists as we question and fully understand what it’s like to be uprooted, desperate for a better tomorrow even if hope continues to fade away.

In Athens, cousins Chatila (Mahmood Bakri) and Reda (Aram Sabbah) are trying to find a way to leave for Germany where they can start a new life, opening a restaurant and finally living the life they had fled their homeland for. But to accomplish that, they need to collect a large sum to secure fake passports. They resort to pickpocketing at first, but any money they have saved is wanted by Reda, a junkie who just can’t seem to stop consuming drugs to forget the pain of his existence. With the money gone, they have to find a better way to secure the funds they need. 

Enter Tatiana, a Greek loner who crosses paths with Chatila and sees an opportunity to help him earn the money he so desperately needs. He hatches a plan to have Tatiana act like a mother to a Palestinian refugee boy who is hoping to cross from Athens to Italy where his mother resides. The aunt is ready to pay and the plan seems like it’s low risk despite the doubts Tatiana has. She travels with the boy and the pair cross Italian borders but vanish into thin air. Realizing that their plan has gone nowhere, Chatila has to come up with a backup solution as there’s no turning back. From there, the film’s last third focuses on Chatila’s desperate – and final – attempt, going full thriller but never losing sight of what gives it its true pulse: the relationship between the cousins. 

As Reda, Aram Sabbah gives one of the year’s most heartbreaking performances. His dynamic with Reda, meticulously developed throughout the film, is what makes the entire viewing experience really work. Unlike Chatila, Reda’s wounds and traumas of displacement have taken quite the toll, turning him into a ghost of a man. Mostly stoned throughout the day, his eyes reek of pain, despair, and a repressed cry for help. Sabbah makes the character truly believable and his scenes with Chatila, particularly in the film’s second half, are absolutely shattering. In creating two wildly different characters, Fleifel conveys how displacement can impact us in strikingly different ways: it either makes us more determined to carve a better future no matter the price we have to pay, or it can absolutely break us, haunting us with fading memories of everything we left behind and could never reclaim. 

Fleifel’s artistic choices in the film, everything from cinematography, locations, sparse score, and casting, rings so true that you forget at times that you’re watching a film. The actors bring such authenticity to their roles, the screenplay is refreshingly free of any grandstanding speeches and tired statements, and the actual locations (refugee dorms and hideouts) are so immersive that it feels as though they were not even altered for the making.  This is a visceral viewing experience that breaks your heart and crushes your soul. It is a testament to an important new voice in Middle Eastern cinema and a remarkable step-up in refugee-themed filmmaking that has come from the region. It’s also an important entry in this decade’s Palestinian filmmaking scene: whereas most films from Palestine have highlighted the everyday ordeal of living under occupation, Fleifel’s film jumps a few steps forward, showing us the aftermath of being forced to leave and never even considering the option of returning to the homeland. In several ways, unknown lands will be much more tolerable, welcoming and habitable than origin lands, and as tragic as this sounds and feels, to die trying is far better than to die living in a place that you can no longer belong to.

With all the artistry, To a Land Unknown remains quite accessible and emotionally resonant. It’s a shame that Palestine has not selected it for the 2025 Best International Feature Oscar race, in which it would have been a shoo-in for a shortlist mention at the very least. Regardless of awards prospects, this film will find its audience and be deservedly celebrated. 

Grade: A-

This review is from the 2024 Toronto International Film Festival. There is no U.S. distributor for To a Land Unknown at this time.