Io capitano (Italy-Belgium 2023)

I approached this film with some trepidation, partly because of its subject matter – migration from Africa to Europe across the Mediterranean – but also because this is a European film about Africans and African issues. There are three kinds of African films. There are those made in African countries by Africans who can control all aspects of production. These are difficult films to fund and to distribute and exhibit, both within Africa and in the international market. ‘African’ of course refers to a wide range of countries, some of which have a well-established ‘filmed entertainment’ industry such as in Nigeria, Egypt or South Africa but others are much more limited. In either case, we don’t often see such films in Europe outside of film festivals. The second group of films come from diasporic directors, either Africans who now live mainly in Europe or North America or second generation migrants who return to their parents’ country to make films. These films do tend to be more widely seen because the directors /producers/writers have more contacts with international sales teams/festivals/distributors. Finally there are African films made by (mostly) Europeans who may recruit writers and casts locally in the countries where they work, often through some kind of aid or development structure.

Io capitano is an Italian picture with a percentage of funding and support from Belgium. Both Italy and Belgium have colonial histories in Africa, but this film selects francophone Senegal as the starting point for its narrative and therefore the identity of its two central characters. The film was actually made in both Senegal and Morocco, though the actual setting for the journey taken by two teenagers includes Mali, Niger and Libya. I only know one other Italian film made in Africa, but that was a major film in the form The Battle of Algiers (Italy-Algeria 1966). This new film from Matteo Garrone has received lavish praise from many critics after winning prizes at Venice last year, recalling the director’s first big international success, Gomorra (Italy 2008) – which, incidentally presents African migrants working in Naples. The creative team on Io capitano is mainly Italian apart from a small group of Africans (I’m going on names in the credits) as ‘writer-collaborators’ plus others involved as musicians and as part of local creative teams in Senegal and Morocco. There are no significant European characters in the film but it is an Italian film. Does this matter – and if so, in what way? I’ll try to explore some of the possible issues.

Outline (limited spoilers)

Seydou (Seydou Sarr) and Moussa (Mustapha Fall) are 16 year-olds in Dakar, the capital of Senegal on the Atlantic coast. They may be cousins, but sometimes that word might be used of anyone who is a close friend in a small community. They are inseparable as two young men who are less interested in school than in creating music – Seydou Sarr features on several music tracks in the film. We learn most about Seydou. He lives with his widowed mother and little sister. Mother runs a food street stall. Seydou is close to his mother but his head is turned by Moussa with tales about the good life in Europe. The boys are intelligent and talented and they work part-time to collect funds for a trip. When Seydou finally agrees to go with Moussa, he feels guilty for leaving secretly against his mother’s wishes.

The route they choose takes them by bus through Mali and into Niger where they pay smugglers to take them illegally into Libya, heading for Tripoli. Along the way they meet various unscrupulous characters who con them out of money and set them up to fail. After many tribulations, including violence and incarceration they do eventually get to Tripoli, some 600 kms across the Mediterranean from Sicily. The film’s title, which translates as ‘I captain’ refers to the final leg of the journey which sees Seydou made ‘captain’ of the dilapidated motor launch, carrying a large group of migrants. As a minor he is unlikely to be arrested by the Italian authorities and the two young men travel for the same price as one. The film has an ‘open ending’ – we don’t know what happens to the young men because the narrative ends while the boat is still at sea.

Commentary

The first point to note is that there are many well-known migration routes across the globe and many of them have been the basis for feature films. Such films employ various genre conventions drawn from different repertoires. One is the ‘road movie’ in which the central characters meet several different characters along the route. Another is the suspense thriller on a crowded boat at sea. A third is specific to the desert and the conflicts between travellers and bandits/jihadists/criminal gangs. Each of these three is relevant in this case. The big question in this case is ‘Why Senegal?’ I was reminded of La pirogue (Senegal-France-Germany 2012), a mainstream film by a Senegalese director about the migration of people who mainly depend on the beleaguered local fishing industry being destroyed by European and Russian industrial fishing. The migration route in the early 2000s was from Dakar (and from Mauritania – a much shorter journey) across to the Canary Islands as the nearest European territory. It was a dangerous crossing in open boats and many people died. This route has seen a resurgence after the Moroccan authorities clamped down on illegal crossings from their coastline. Why didn’t Garrone choose this route? Was it because the narrative must end in Italy? Or was it that the longer route across the desert had more dramatic potential? Both were probably important. Two points her are that Seydou and Moussa are definitely ‘economic migrants’. They are not escaping abuse or suppression. Instead, they have simply been duped by tv and social media that have convinced them that Europe is an ‘El Dorado’. This concept goes back to the years immediately following Senegal’s independence from France in the early 1960s and is caught in the tragic tale of Sembène Ousmane’s La noire de . . .  (Black Girl (Senegal 1966). I could list many other titles that include at least one part of the migration narrative from Africa and Asia into Europe. One film that isn’t mentioned much offers an approach that is realist and almost semi-documentary. In This World (UK 2002), written by Tony Grisoni and directed by Michael Winterbottom, literally follows a pair of Afghani asylum seekers from a refugee camp in Pakistan across Iran and Turkey and then to Italy, France and finally across the Channel to the UK. The lead characters are played by real asylum seekers and their harrowing journey is covered by Winterbottom’s small ‘guerilla filmmaking’ crew.

Io capitano is definitely not like Winterbottom’s film. The cinematography (presented in 1.85:1 ratio) by Paolo Carnera is often very beautiful as well as dramatic and perhaps uplifting, supported by the music score by Andrea Farri and editing by Marco Spoletini. It is an emotional mix which audiences have responded to enthusiastically. It is certainly impressive filmmaking but I’m not sure it is appropriate for the subject matter. I did find some sequences very difficult to watch, especially on the sea journey. The narrative sees various characters warning the boys of the dangers in making such a trip and there is certainly violence and danger that they experience, though much of it is off-screen. The boys seem lucky in the characters they meet, especially the surrogate father figure that Seydou meets. It’s not so much that they meet such characters but that they turn up just at the right moment. It’s a strange mixture of almost feelgood emotions and dramatic conflicts. The lack of a clear resolution to the narrative might be seen by some as a cop-out.

Research published in 2019 by a Professor at Barcelona University into Senegalese migration to Europe confirms that Senegalese migrants to France, Spain and Italy are generally from middle income families and have relatively high levels of education. The reason for migration is to ‘diversify sources of income’ and to increase social standing. In fact they often find that only low status jobs are available in Europe (see A Season in France (France 2017). Still, they tend to send money back to families in Senegal and around 30% of migrants eventually return to Senegal within 10 years. A small percentage are deported back but the majority return voluntarily. The research concludes that official programmes for controlled legal emigration from countries like Senegal would benefit both Senegal and host countries receiving migrants – a sensible comment that tends to be ignored in the UK and other European countries. However, Senegal is in a much stronger position both economically and in terms of internal cohesion than many of its neighbouring Sahel states. Focusing on migrants from Niger, Mali, Guinea or Chad for instance suffer from a wide range of problems from unemployment through to the effects of climate change on agriculture and food poverty as well as civil war, corruption in public services and religious conflicts. Here is another report outlining the issues. Garrone and his writers have done their research sending their characters to Agadez in Niger, seen as a longstanding base for smugglers who offer a dubious passage across the Sahara.

The film does not really explore any of these issues and is largely concerned with the experiences of the two young Senegalese men. But their journey does involve fantasy or dream sequences as experienced by Seydou. One of these, of an older woman seemingly flying across the desert has possibly confused audiences when used on posters or the trailer (see below). Some critics do refer to aspects of ‘magic realism’. I’m not sure that fits here but the fantasy elements alongside traditional practices that the young men are encouraged to undertake before the trip (including a visit to the cemetery where their ancestors are buried) does point to the movement in various African films from the late 1980s onwards which was termed ‘the return to source’. A key film which had international success was Yeelen (Mali 1987) by Souleyman Cissé. Cissé argued that his film was a deliberate attempt to oppose those images of Africa created by ‘European’ aesthetics and European technicians. Yeelen is set in the distant past, possibly the Malian Empire of the 13th century with a conflict between father and son, both of whom have forms of magical power. It isn’t the same kind of film as Io capitano, but the point about who is in control of the visualisation of an African story remains. There are African filmmakers or diasporic filmmakers who could have made something similar to Io capitano, especially with the resources available to Garrone and his team. I’d like to see such a film. But I recognise that Io capitano tells a story very well and that it will engage large audiences. It is currently screening on MUBI in the UK and it may still be around in some UK cinemas. Otherwise the film is available to rent from Apple, Amazon, Curzon, BFI Player etc. Despite my concerns I would still recommend the film. Seydou Starr appears to have developed his career as both musician and actor after his outstanding performance in the film and that provides a good reason to watch it.