Io Capitano: Dream Trip
by Angela Maria
Matteo Garrone’s “Io Capitano” is a powerful drama that follows the journey of two young African men as they leave Dakar in search of a better life in Europe. This epic tale serves as a mirror to the harsh social and political realities that compel millions of people worldwide to abandon their homelands, often leading to their tragic and anonymous deaths. The film’s portrayal of these harsh realities is a stark reminder of the urgent need for global action and empathy towards the plight of migrants. However, amidst these challenges, the film emphasises hope and resilience, offering a glimmer of optimism in the face of adversity.
Matteo Garrone, the director of Gomorrah, Dogman and Pinocchio, turns his camera to today’s most critical global problem, the “migration phenomenon”, with his award-winning latest film. Garrone, who usually shoots his movies in Italy and follows social realism, goes beyond the Italian geography in this film but still focuses on Italian society. Focuses on a topic of interest. Lo Capitano tells, in a daring and heart-touching language, the efforts of two young men who dream of seeing the world and becoming rap stars from Senegal to Europe. What they embark on is such an arduous journey that, just like a modern Odyssey, it extends from the relentless desert to torture-filled penal camps in Libya and from there to the vast open sea. Despite all its emotional outbursts, the film does not fall into a nihilistic fallacy; on the contrary, it showcases the resilience of the young heroes, instilling in them the strength and hope to continue on the road. This emphasis on their resilience inspires the audience, fostering optimism about the future of migrants.
The film begins with the daily life of a family in Senegal. We watch a family in a hut wearing wigs, dressing up, dancing and singing songs. They are far from the comforts of modern life, but they all seem happy. Even the feeling of hopelessness conveyed by the frame cannot overshadow this perception of happiness. Thus, the film departs from the “settled and migration” family” image, and we turn to the cousins Seydou (Seydou Sarr) and Moussa (Moustapha Fall). Two cousins, whose colours and races differ from whites, dream of going to Europe and making music. The street music they make in their country will bring them to large audiences, their blackness that remains in the dark will be visible, and they will make their voices heard in the world where they are second class. When their dreams come true, they can achieve the identity and status they want, a testament to the power of hope and dreams in the face of adversity.
Seydou and Moussa declare their travel to make money in Europe and help their family. Seydou’s mother worries about her son and tells him to stay in Senegal, “I don’t want money; I want my son.” But our main character doesn’t listen to his mother. Because the most important reason for travel is neither poverty nor famine nor war. The real emotions that call them to the journey are their dreams, hopes and the desire to live like others. For example, Seydou explains one of his goals by “saying, “I want to be someone else.” Moussa describes the person they want to be: “Imagine white people asking for your autograph and going on stage like a real star.” For them, music is not a tool to convey universal emotions but a form of expression about their place in the world. They ignore the advice of elders that Europe is not what it seems on television. They follow the childish delusion that “Europe is waiting for us and our songs.”
And they set out to reach the Europe of their dreams. Their journey, which begins secretly with their families, begins with hope. We see fake passports from Senegal, which are easily recognised as fake from the photographs taken on the same day. In this brutal journey, we once again face the reality of two naive children trying to cross the border with fake passports. Their faces are still smiling, and they maintain their excitement. Then, we watch Seydou and Moussa’s efforts to cross the hot African deserts in pursuit of smugglers who measure the value of human life in money. Over time, their joy and excitement give way to fatigue. Their journey in this new world, quite different from their old lives, becomes an endless adventure. The geography they are in is different from what they expected. This cruelty that Seydou and Moussa encounter after they do not listen to the words of the old man they consult for advice, “Europe is not what you think, do not leave the country, otherwise bad things will happen to you,” turns them into fairy tale heroes from whom those who do not listen to their elders must learn a lesson. Seydou’s tests help a traveller who can’t stand them anymore. The director includes unreal dream scenes here. Seydou tries to help the old woman, who can no longer walk, at the risk of losing the man who guides them, but he gets confused by Cousin’s begging and runs to catch up with them.
Seydou dreams of the woman who died in the desert and whose body they had to leave behind, rising into the sky. He dreams of helping the woman. Obstacles and difficulties continue to multiply. Seydou, who was put up for sale in the slave market, has to find a solution to save himself from that situation and reach Moussa. One of the men sold in the slave market says that they can do construction work together to save Seydou. They are assigned to build a wall around the house they are bought and taken to. After completing this task successfully, they will be released to go to Tripoli if they make the desired fountain.
Oscillating between two extremes, the story fulfils all the requirements of epic narratives, with transitions from the moments where the hero’s life is in danger. The audience waits with bated breath to see if he will be saved, to the moment when he manages to continue on his way due to an unexpected acquaintance or coincidence, so we feel relieved. We watch the scenes in which Seydou is subjected to unimaginable torture in Libyan prisons as if we were seeing it through the eyes of a prisoner inside the cell. Seydou, who managed to escape from jail with the help of a master, starts working as a construction worker for a wealthy Libyan family.
At the film’s dramatic climax, we watch Seydou captain a ship full of refugees to save Moussa. It is impossible not to feel the darkness hidden behind the shouts of victory. Seydou follows an unknown route on the thin rope separating death and life when he sees the shores of Europe. We see traces of the unknown, fear, and Seydou’s determined expression.
Seydou Sarr and Moustapha Fall are not professional actors, but they take on their roles with very mature performances and drag us along with them. This is especially true when Seydou and Moussa cross the vast Sahara Desert. An emotional and tense moment occurs in the desert that can only be explained by magical reality!
As a result, this dream drags Seydou and his cousin Moussa into a great tragedy during their journey. Their dreams of becoming singers are covered in desert dust and construction mud, and they fight a terrifying war of survival from Nigeria to Libya to Italy, from human traffickers to mafia torture houses. In the desert scene depicted in a surreal style, their childhood and innocence fade away. They age not with time but with distance. But they do not let go of the rope of hope that they follow. And we hear the beating of a young heart with every step. One of the features that “makes “Io Capitano” best is the beating of that tiny heart in the finale. We both hear, and It’s… It’s like our heart… And we remember the message Ousmane Sembene, the Senegalese director of Mandabi (1968), gave with this film. “People come from France, and money cannot come, but money goes from Senegal. People cannot leave that” easily.”
The film questions the heart strength and resilience of a 16-year-old boy on his journey towards hope. It shows Italy as a hope, but we are still determining whether they will accept refugees into the country. Is Europe a hope for the refugees who are burning in the heat of Africa?
