MONSIEUR IBRAHIM - DVD review

"Monsieur Ibrahim" is the kind of film that gives hope—and not just to audiences. Writers and filmmakers will find it heartening that the basic premise is so clichéd that there's no way you'd expect the film to succeed. Yet it does, and with quiet flair, as awards attest. "Monsieur Ibrahim" was a Golden Globe nominee for Best Foreign Language Film, the consensus audience favorite at the 2003 Venice Film Festival, and one of the top five foreign films honored by the National Board of Review. What elevates this contrived but uplifting film is Omar Sharif in the title role as an Islamic grocer, and newcomer Pierre Boulanger as the 16-year-old Jewish boy he befriends. Both actors make this coming-of-age, opposites attract, and grandfather-protégé script work—despite an Act III road trip that comes out of nowhere and drives off a cliff.

This is a period film which really evokes the Sixties in Paris, complete with a soundtrack featuring French and American pop songs. From the moment a hand-held camera pans the prostitutes that line the red-light district where Moses (Boulanger) lives with his uncommunicative father, zooming in on the boy as he watches one courtesan and practices his "pick-up lines," we're entranced by the young actor and his situation. Mom left and he's told an older brother also left, leaving young Moses to clean the apartment and cook for a father who says little and does nothing to interact with the boy beyond small talk and saying things like "You forgot to clean the shower yesterday." Shades of "Sixteen Candles," his father even forgets his birthday. Absorbed in work and his home library, Dad sends him to "the Arab's" grocery to get dinner every day, and the virtually unsupervised boy decides to shoplift a little something each time. But one day, the grocer (Sharif) not only tells him he knows about the thievery, he says, smiling like a Dutch uncle, "If you have to steal, I prefer you do it in my shop." And so the bond begins. It increases when the shopkeeper suggests the boy feed his father cat foot and claim it's paté, and helps him cut corners other ways so "Momo," as the Turk calls him, can spend his money on prostitutes instead (the boy's appetite for sex isn't quite as insatiable as the Mormon lad's in "Paint Your Wagon"). The film has nothing in the way of sideplots, except for one brief episode that befall the boy's father, and a curtain call by the boy's mother. All we have is the grocer's and young boy's unfolding relationship—but it's enough. The boy gives him companionship and a reason to leave his grocer's stool and get out into the world, while the old man gives Momo lessons in life. At a time when the newspapers are full of Holy War talk, it's of course hopeful to feature a Muslim and Jew coming together as father and adopted son (or vice versa)—though Jews may find it less than ideal that the religious exchange is one-way. Monsieur Ibrahim shares his Koran with the boy, but the Torah is nowhere to be found.

The full title of the film is "Monsieur Ibrahim et les fleurs du Coran" (and the flowers of the Koran), and every time the boy questions the happiness of the simple grocer, his father-figure replies, "I know what's in my Koran." Later, as their relationship expands, his expression to explain his happiness expands as well: "You're here, and I know what's in my Koran." The pair clicks so well that it's easy to ignore the unlikely religious coming-together theme and the clichés in the script, and, like the sagely grocer himself, just sit back and watch things unfold. It's hard to believe that this is Boulanger's first film, he's so polished and, like Sharif, charismatic. Quite simply, the two actors carry the film. And yet, without Francois Dupeyron's directorial vision—the hand-held cameras throughout, which add an air of intimacy; the non-intrusive close-ups that keep it personal, but not "in your face"; and the image selection itself—even wonderful performances might not have been enough to transcend the genres that this film embraces. Only the Act III road trip, when suddenly the old man buys a car and the two take off for his native Turkey, do things stretch as thin as the middle line on a highway streaking off into the horizon. But the rest of the film is so strong that not even an implied religious marriage or a hokey and hurried ending can diminish it much.

Video:
Presentation is anamorphic widescreen (1.66:1 aspect ratio), color, and while high-light scenes have a slight graininess (especially scenes shot in the Mideast), the transfer and picture is otherwise excellent.

Audio:
The soundtrack is French Dolby Digital 5.1, with English, Spanish and Portuguese subtitles. There isn't much in the way of dramatic rear-speaker action, but the songs resonate just fine on the front center and front main speakers.

Extras:
There's only one extra, but it's a great one: a full-length commentary by Sharif. Make that a three-quarter length commentary. There are more than a few moments of silence, but the 72-year-old Egyptian-American actor has reached an age when he can speak his mind, and his remarks are as candid as remarks get. He more than makes up for any silences. Example? As he talks about Momo's fascination with prostitutes, Sharif says, "My first time was in Paris, at fifteen, with one of those type."

Sharif refers to the commentary as "a making-of commentary," and clearly he was asked to stand in for director Dupeyron, who isn't comfortable enough speaking English for an extended length of time. But Sharif is a good pick for the commentary. Never mind that he's a minor American film icon, famous for his roles in "Funny Girl," "Dr. Zhivago," and "Lawrence of Arabia," and because of that what he has to say is interesting of its own right. The bonus is that he speaks knowledgably about the process, offering anecdotes about casting and shooting the film. Sharif talks about how he took young Boulanger under his wing and invited him to his hotel to practice improvisations under the watchful eye of a coach. "I told the coach to yell at me too, so the boy wouldn't feel bad." Another example? He explains that he got around the stereotypical grandfather/orphan boy relationship by approaching the role in a different way: "I tried to play it like a child, waiting for another child to play." Unlike many actors who, in their commentaries, say only things that make them look good, Sharif has reached a point where he is able to laugh at his own failings. "At some point," he confides, "I thought of (the grocer) as an angel set down on earth to look after the boy. But the author (Eric-Emmanuel Schmitt) and director discouraged me from that thought." There are many such moments in the commentary, so that the Sharif's take on the film becomes as quietly seductive as the film itself.

Bottom Line:
Sharif won a Cesar Award for Best Actor, and also won Best Actor at the 2003 Venice Film Festival. He turns in his strongest and most charismatic performance since "Lawrence of Arabia," and proves that it was worth the five years he waited for a role to come his way that actually interested him. This is a film driven by character, not action, and Sharif and his young acting protégé take us on an enjoyable ride from the Jewish section of Paris to a tiny village in Turkey.