Selected to open the Un Certain Regard section of the Cannes Film Festival, French Tunisian director Erige Sehiri’s intimately conceived drama “Promised Sky” follows four generations of Ivorian immigrant women as they find solidarity, conflict and sometimes a sense of displacement in one another’s company. Female relationships are complicated enough as is, even between those on a level playing field. But in “Promised Sky,” they are thornier since none of the women are equals from a socio-economic standpoint in their adopted home in Tunisia.
“Promised Sky” starts on a note of matriarchal unity, not separation. Utilizing the same perceptive documentarian aesthetic at the heart of her previous feature, “Under the Fig Trees,” Sehiri drops the audience into the lives of Marie (Aïssa Maïga), Naney (Debora Lobe Naney) and Jolie (Laetitia Ky), as the three roommates care for a little girl in a bubble bath, gently washing her as they try to get to know her situation.
The girl is Kenza (Estelle Kenza Dogbo), a displaced child who appears to have miraculously survived a migrant shipwreck before the three women found her. A former journalist now serving her community as a pastor after 10 years in Tunisia, Marie decides to open her home to Kenza like she did for Naney — a spirited undocumented mother who left her child at home three years ago with the hopes of finding a better future for her family in Tunisia — and Jolie, a passionate student and the only documented member of the group.
“Promised Sky” loosely reflects real events, and feels visually and texturally truthful thanks to Sehiri’s authentic point of view and cinematographer Frida Marzouk’s poetic lens. The film often feels like a mazy tapestry of moods and situations, rather than a traditional narrative.
Sehiri doesn’t necessarily attempt to tell a neatly organized story revolving around the three women’s actions after Kenza abruptly joins their ranks. Instead, she lets the chaotic messiness of their lives unfold organically, through a casually observant disposition that feels untidy and random at times. Sehiri’s film adds up to something greater than the sum of its parts, becoming a unique drama about marginalized African immigrant women fighting for their dignity and place not in Europe (the usual setting for many similarly themed films), but on their own continent, Africa.
For Marie, that fight involves providing spiritual leadership to her community, praying for strength and perseverance, and preaching compassion and forgiveness, while distributing food and supplies to those in need. For Naney, the struggle is making ends meet by any means necessary — even if that might invite trouble — while hoping to bring her child to Tunisia one day. Elsewhere, Jolie is driven by different motivations, trusting her privileges as a documented resident in Tunisia. Soon enough, she learns that racism and prejudices in the country don’t spare her, regardless of what papers she possesses.
There are some male side players too, including Marie’s unsympathetic landlord Ismael (Mohamed Grayaâ), who takes advantage of Marie’s lack of options by refusing to make simple improvements in her modest housing. And then there is Naney’s Tunisian friend Foued (Foued Zaazaa), providing her with some much-needed (if deficient) camaraderie in both life’s random moments and special days like birthdays. Marie’s blind friend Noa (Touré Blamassi), who judges every situation with intelligent clarity and advises Marie accordingly, brings some gentle serenity to the story. (Sehiri leans too heavily into unsophisticated symbolism with Noa, coming dangerously close to characterizing a disability as if it’s a mystical feature.) Someone else who gets the short end of the stick is Kenza. After abruptly introducing the character, writers Sehiri, Anna Ciennik and Malika Cécile Louati sadly treat her like an afterthought; it almost feels as if they have struggled to find a real purpose for Kenza in the tale, missing an opportunity with a gifted child actor who will quietly break your heart with her final scene.
“Promised Sky” is at its strongest when Sehiri approaches a neorealistic style in filming the happenstances of street life, dialing up her documentarian instincts. It also packs a punch when Sehiri underscores just how deeply rooted (and similar-sounding) anti-migrant sentiments are around the world. In one scene, for instance, we learn that some Tunisians spread false rumors that migrants eat domestic cats — it’s an accusation that might bring to mind alarmingly comparable lies that were spreading in the U.S. less than a year ago.
The film also shines through Naney’s aching performance, and she delivers a soul-shattering and scene-stealing monologue near the end about how a better life hasn’t found her despite all her hard work, belief and perseverance. Even in its shakiest moments, “Promised Sky” pledges to honor that grit and against-the-odds struggle with dignity and humanism.
