“A fully formed, compelling romance in every sense of the word.”
Love is a concept that has fascinated us as a species, the source of discussion in every conceivable field, from sociology and psychology to science and the arts – and despite it being one of the core subjects that we can consider somewhat universal, we are no closer to understanding what it is precisely that attracts us to others. This is the impetus for A Sad and Beautiful World, Cyril Aris’ lovely, heartwarming romance in which the director combines exuberant comedy with soft-hearted drama to tell the story of Nino and Yasmina, two people living in modern Lebanon who are drawn together by some unseen magnetic force, pushed into each other’s orbit and unable to escape. Their love helps them navigate the challenges that impact them directly on a personal level, while also providing the strength to be optimistic as their country faces countless problems, all of which prove to be inconsequential in comparison to the bond they form over the years. A testament to the unimpeachable power of love, as well as the resilience of the human spirit and our innate ability to find joy in even the most difficult of circumstances, A Sad and Beautiful World is a charming film that touches on some very resonant themes in a way that is subtle but unquestionably moving.
The ideas embedded at the heart of this film are clear from the first moments, when we are introduced to the protagonists earlier in their lives. This frames their eventual meeting later on, where they discover that they not only share many common interests, but also complement one another. The lovable flaws of one are easily compensated by the other’s strongest qualities, the closest approximation we can find to the adage that opposites attract without it bordering on trite cliché. A Sad and Beautiful World is a fully formed, compelling romance in every sense of the word, with the director looking at the subject from every possible angle and being willing to experiment with certain ideas in order to understand different aspects of a relatively simple story. He interrogates the connections that bind people together, looks at the process of falling in love as both a biological and psychological process, and offers his own interpretation of the qualities that lead to the formation of such lifelong connections. Setting the film across a few decades was a fantastic narrative decision, since it facilitates a story in which we are given valuable insights into the inner lives of the characters, as compared with their outward actions, whether supporting them or offering some kind of contrast. It’s in this dynamic that Aris finds some of the most intriguing ideas, crafting a narrative that is bold and moving in equal measure, while remaining consistent in its curiosity to unearth new features of the human condition and its many impenetrable mysteries.
While the depth of ideas that inform A Sad and Beautiful World is certainly fertile ground for a more complex, layered affair, we find that Aris chooses to take a different path altogether. This film doesn’t purport to be definitive in any way and actually seems more willing to embrace the straightforwardness of its narrative, a welcome change of pace from a rise in “elevated” romances, in which artistic innovation is prioritised over consistency. This is a deeply reliable film that knows exactly what it intends to be, as well as the direction in which it intends to move – and in this measured approach we find the director actually managing to make quite an impression, cobbling together a film that doesn’t avoid difficult themes but rather embraces them by integrating these ideas into the narrative. Aris is walking a very narrow tightrope, both narratively and tonally – A Sad and Beautiful World could have been an overly conventional romantic comedy that uses more dramatic ideas to feign importance, but with someone who understands the ebb and flow of life’s mysteries at the helm it proves to be a far more subtle endeavour. A large part of this has to be credited to the actors, with Mounia Akl and Hasan Akil holding court as the leads, portraying two individuals who find each other by chance and realise that they cannot resist the building affection between them. It’s a wonderfully charming examination of these ideas, and Aris deserves acknowledgement for being able to pull together a film that is immersed in such complex ideas, but where it comes across as nothing short of effortless in how it tackles these conversations.
Aris proves with this film that a straightforward, elegant narrative can be just as impactful as the more prosaic affairs that usually surround these particular themes. Some of the film does entail two characters sitting at a table and talking, with sporadic flashbacks to their past, but rarely has this felt more appropriate and engaging, the dynamic between the two leads being supported by a strong script and steady direction that is not overly complex, but competent in a way increasingly rare for the genre. Despite its relatively simple exterior, A Sad and Beautiful World does effectively blur genres together in a small but meaningful way, looking at the lives of ordinary people as they go about their daily routine, which comes to a halt when they encounter someone who not only sweeps them off their feet, but suddenly instils in them a sense of optimism for the future. In a world where this has become such a rare commodity, it’s truly inspiring to see a film that builds its entire thesis on the idea that there is still reason for hope, proving that there’s always space for it, even if only as an idealistic balm to a harsh reality that we find ourselves confronted with on a daily basis. Nothing encapsulates the essence of A Sad and Beautiful World more than its title – simple but evocative, and one that implies that life is about balancing the joy with melancholy, both of which are absolutely essential to understanding the world that surrounds us.