“The Damned Don’t Cry is a harrowing work of social realism and a relevant film that resounds with the intensity of a system that is woefully divided on how to handle those who fail to fit into the preconceived model of success.”

When it comes to a film like The Damned Don’t Cry (Les damnés ne pleurent pas), it is important to remember that we are watching a work that is aiming to reflect the reality many people face in their everyday lives, especially in countries with an unfortunate amount of social inequality. In this regard, the most effective parts of this film are also slightly unpleasant, since director Fyzal Boulifa sets out to tell a story that is deeply haunting, looking at the lives of a middle-aged woman and her adult son as they traverse the hostile streets of contemporary Morocco, trying to find a place and jobs that will allow them to escape poverty. This proves increasingly difficult since they both lack direction and soon learn that ambition is finite when you don’t possess the skills to utilize it correctly. The film is an engrossing social realist drama that provokes many difficult questions in between haunting scenes of two people hopelessly lost in a hostile world. The Damned Don’t Cry is radical and compelling, immersing us in the lives of these characters and taking us on a journey with them on the long road to finding a home in a place that does not provide nearly as much support for those in dire situations as we might expect.

Throughout the film, the viewer takes on the role of voyeur, peering into the lives of the characters as they go about their daily activities. We soon learn these activities are not nearly as routine as they would seem, each new dawn bringing with it a sense of unpredictability. This is a story about ordinary people who find their lives in perpetual motion – over the two hours we spend with these characters they never stay in one place for long, and just as it seems like they have found a potential home with some degree of permanence, the director introduces something into the story that derails their plan and forces them to once again seek sanctuary elsewhere. The story of these hopeless wanderers forms the foundation for a picaresque voyage through modern Morocco, where Boulifa reflects on the country of his descent and how challenging it can be to navigate such hostile surroundings when your only purpose is to survive by any means necessary. The two main characters in The Damned Don’t Cry drift between urban spaces in which they are not always welcome, perpetual guests that occupy space more than they earn it. This leads to a distressing depiction of the sun-soaked search for a sense of security and comfort, and the unquenchable desire to belong, something that many take for granted, as evidenced by the vibrant but unsettling image being painted in this narrative.

The idea of being a traveller on the road toward an uncertain future is not only used as a literal plot device in this neorealist drama, but also as an allegory for a sadly enormous group of people who find themselves lost in a world without any direction. The Damned Don’t Cry is a complex character study about fragmented people, the invisible majority that lives on the bare minimum, and whose only purpose day after day is simply to find new means to survive. However, as compassionate as he may be towards these people, Boulifa is not approaching them with any sense of unearned sympathy – the film can be quite brutal in how it depicts the challenges they encounter, as well as portraying both central characters as deeply flawed. This is not the story of a pair of martyrs struggling solely based on their circumstances – it is a raw and unforgiving depiction of how we are the product of our surroundings, and how actions can sometimes impede potential success. The main characters are played by Aïcha Tebbae and Abdellah El Hajjouji, both turning in shattering, heartbreaking performances that are deeply complex. There is an abundance of detail in their performances, and both are extraordinary, finding nuance in a pair of characters that otherwise would have been fatally innocuous if they were not the product of a collaboration with a director determined to explore the psychological impact poverty can have, which can often cause the erratic behaviour demonstrated here.

The Damned Don’t Cry is a vitally important film, since the subject matter (as disconcerting as it may be) demonstrates the plight of a large portion of the global population, the many who exist hand-to-mouth for most of their lives. They sustain themselves on the paltry resources gleaned from their surroundings, whether as a result of economic circumstances or social inequality. The film may be focused on a specific social and cultural milieu, looking at the current state of the working class in Morocco, but it touches on universal themes. Boulifa continues to be an essential voice in contemporary cinema, and this film carries with it a weight that may be uncomfortable but provides a very poignant glimpse into an unsettling reality. Formed as a harsh social critique that spends most of its time following two people as they search for meaning in a world in which they are always seen as guests, which means they are in constant motion (both physically and psychologically), the film is extraordinarily challenging and deeply meaningful. Emotionally resonant but never manipulative, and frequently looking beyond conventions by focusing on those who exist on the outskirts of society, The Damned Don’t Cry is a harrowing work of social realism and a relevant film that resounds with the intensity of a system that is woefully divided on how to handle those who fail to fit into the preconceived model of success.