“A near picture-perfect capture of feelings of belonging and not belonging, of traditions integrated into your new home and traditions left behind, and of the way memories offer hope and a way to forget a dark past.”

In a world where millions of immigrants are on the move in hope of starting life over in another place far away from war, poverty, or famine, Marcelo Gomes’ 8th feature film reminds us that this is a dilemma of all ages. Visually strongly reminiscent of 2012’s Tabu by that other Gomes, Portrait of a Certain Orient‘s sensual and gorgeously shot love triangle embeds something more poignant than romance and jealousy as it tackles themes such as memory, ‘otherness’, religious differences, cultural barriers, and the encroachment of indigenous life. While the focus of the film is a sister, her lover, and her jealous brother, the undercurrent shows that building a life away from your own culture and traditions is not something that is given to everyone.

Lebanon, 1949. With the threat of war looming, Catholic Lebanese nun Emilie (Wafa’a Celine Halawi, a luminous screen presence) is ripped from a convent by her brother Emir (Zakaria Kaakour) to embark on a journey across the Atlantic heading for Brazil. Emir tries to convince his sister that with their parents murdered there is nothing left for them in their country of birth. Initially reluctant to go, the young woman changes her tune when she falls under the spell of a charismatic Muslim merchant, Omar (Charbel Kamel). This charming Tripoli-born dealer in fabrics takes an interest in Emilie, which enrages her jealous brother, a stowaway on the ship for financial reasons, so much that he leaves his hiding place to angrily confront Omar.

Once they reach Brazil it is Emilie who convinces Emir to take a boat trip, following Omar to Manaus, deep in the heart of the Amazon jungle. Another tussle between Emir and Omar ends in a gunshot. Helped by an indigenous passenger (Rosa Peixoto), the three corners of the tumultuous triangle make the arduous trek to the woman’s village, where a local healer may be able to save Emir. Though he eventually recovers, the bond between him and his sister is permanently fractured, which leads to an ending in which joy and tragedy are uncomfortable bedfellows.

A film about passion and prejudice, Portrait of a Certain Orient shows how weaponizing religious and cultural differences often hides deeper emotions like jealousy. At its heart the film is a classic love triangle, and cinematographer Pierre de Kerchove (a frequent collaborator of Gomes) shoots it as such, the black and white of his photography adding an aura of mystery and sensuality to the film; a passionate love scene between Emilie and Omar late in the film is downright erotic while modestly shot. But the jealousy Emir displays towards the budding relationship is an expression of him losing control over his sister’s life, and Gomes subtly shows that people can easily abuse ‘otherness’ to cause artificial rifts.

Emir finds it hard to adapt to his new surroundings, evoking Godland‘s Lucas, a young priest dead set on becoming one with the Icelandic settlement he is sent to, only to find that he cannot ground himself in the unforgiving land. Emir too cannot find footing in Manaus, despite the presence of a good friend and possible lover in a French photographer (Eros Galbiati) he has started working for. A gay relationship is hinted at but never really delved into, a missed opportunity on the screenplay’s part. Similarly a spat between a village elder of the indigenous tribe hosting the Lebanese trio and a group of white landowners who claim his land sets up a possibly potent plot strand, but is brushed over quickly.

There is enough meat on Portrait of a Certain Orient‘s bones though to elevate the already beautifully rendered, passionate love story it focuses on. The blocking and framing of most of the film’s shots borders on perfection, perfectly encapsulating its characters in natural or man-made frames within the shot, visual signifiers of their relationships. Music and sound too add an atmospheric layer to the film, adding mystery, discomfort, or pure joy to its scenes. Gomes’ adaptation of Milton Hatoum’s epic novel Tale of a Certain Orient is a near picture-perfect capture of feelings of belonging and not belonging, of traditions integrated in your new home and traditions left behind, and of the way memories offer hope and a way to forget a dark past.