Here
A meditation on being in the present moment shows a young man on a weekend before going home from Brussels to Romania, poised between past and future. Here, a film by Bas Devos, sort of crept up on me unawares. The title is spelled H-e-r-e, and right away that’s a bit confusing because there’s a different film with the same name this year starring Tom Hanks. Anyway, I don’t think we’re ever explicitly told where “here” is geographically, in this movie that is called Here. Not much of “who” either. The film opens on a construction site in a city, and later some of the men are hanging out after work, and the language is French. The next day, some co-workers are eating lunch on the grass, and we hear some Slavic sounding language mixed in with the French. Later in the movie, people talk in what sounds like German or Dutch. All of this is subtitled in English, but the multilingual and multicultural elements in the picture are a subtle background element, not a central theme. Looking it all up after watching, I got the details. We’re in Brussels, where French and Flemish are spoken. Romanian immigrants work at the construction site, among whom is Stefan, played by Stefan Gota, who is about to go back home on vacation and spend a month with his aging mother. His car is in the shop, so he has to wait through the weekend until Monday before he leaves. He needs to empty his refrigerator, since he’ll be gone a month, and he makes a bunch of soup out of the vegetables, planning to give it away to various people. When the owner of the garage says the car can’t be ready in time, he gives him some of the soup and the guy relents and says he can do it by Monday after all. At a Chinese restaurant, he meets and talks to a young woman, played by Liyo Gong, who appears to work there. He has an older sister in the city, working as a nurse, and he goes to see her and they talk about family. The point is that where they are, and the other background information the writer/director doesn’t bother to tell us, isn’t really that important. The casual rhythm of Stefan’s life, and the director’s gently observant style, are what we are actually involved in watching, not a plot or a drama. Before the restaurant scene, we are introduced to Shuxiu, Liyo Gong’s character, in voice-over. She talks about a time once when she woke up in bed and suddenly didn’t know the names of the things around her in her room. This takes on meaning when we discover that she’s a plant scientist, engaged in naming different species of moss. This is what’s known as slow cinema, yet it’s only 83 minutes long. Devos goes slowly not to expand our sense of time, but to focus our minds on here and now. Every shot in the picture emphasizes the experience of being present. Stefan realizes he’s not sure about leaving, that he’s a little afraid of going back home, and wishes he could put it off. Then by chance he just happens to see Shuxiu again, as he walks through a dense forest to get to the garage where his car is ready. She’s sitting on the ground near the path, studying some moss. The patient style has already established Stefan’s openness and curiosity about the people and things he encounters. So when he asks Shuxiu about her work, and then decides to follow her around and learn a few things, it seems natural. There are hidden gifts in our daily lives that often go unnoticed because we’re thinking, planning, remembering, or worrying. The film is designed to make us notice these gifts, and a forest is the best place for it because it’s alive. Here is delicately beautiful, quiet, tender, funny, and generous. It invites us in.
An episode of the Flicks with The Film Snob podcast, hosted by Chris Dashiell, titled "Here" was published on January 13, 2025 and runs 3 minutes.
January 13, 2025 ·3m · Flicks with The Film Snob
Summary
A meditation on being in the present moment shows a young man on a weekend before going home from Brussels to Romania, poised between past and future. Here, a film by Bas Devos, sort of crept up on me unawares. The title is spelled H-e-r-e, and right away that’s a bit confusing because there’s a different film with the same name this year starring Tom Hanks. Anyway, I don’t think we’re ever explicitly told where “here” is geographically, in this movie that is called Here. Not much of “who” either. The film opens on a construction site in a city, and later some of the men are hanging out after work, and the language is French. The next day, some co-workers are eating lunch on the grass, and we hear some Slavic sounding language mixed in with the French. Later in the movie, people talk in what sounds like German or Dutch. All of this is subtitled in English, but the multilingual and multicultural elements in the picture are a subtle background element, not a central theme. Looking it all up after watching, I got the details. We’re in Brussels, where French and Flemish are spoken. Romanian immigrants work at the construction site, among whom is Stefan, played by Stefan Gota, who is about to go back home on vacation and spend a month with his aging mother. His car is in the shop, so he has to wait through the weekend until Monday before he leaves. He needs to empty his refrigerator, since he’ll be gone a month, and he makes a bunch of soup out of the vegetables, planning to give it away to various people. When the owner of the garage says the car can’t be ready in time, he gives him some of the soup and the guy relents and says he can do it by Monday after all. At a Chinese restaurant, he meets and talks to a young woman, played by Liyo Gong, who appears to work there. He has an older sister in the city, working as a nurse, and he goes to see her and they talk about family. The point is that where they are, and the other background information the writer/director doesn’t bother to tell us, isn’t really that important. The casual rhythm of Stefan’s life, and the director’s gently observant style, are what we are actually involved in watching, not a plot or a drama. Before the restaurant scene, we are introduced to Shuxiu, Liyo Gong’s character, in voice-over. She talks about a time once when she woke up in bed and suddenly didn’t know the names of the things around her in her room. This takes on meaning when we discover that she’s a plant scientist, engaged in naming different species of moss. This is what’s known as slow cinema, yet it’s only 83 minutes long. Devos goes slowly not to expand our sense of time, but to focus our minds on here and now. Every shot in the picture emphasizes the experience of being present. Stefan realizes he’s not sure about leaving, that he’s a little afraid of going back home, and wishes he could put it off. Then by chance he just happens to see Shuxiu again, as he walks through a dense forest to get to the garage where his car is ready. She’s sitting on the ground near the path, studying some moss. The patient style has already established Stefan’s openness and curiosity about the people and things he encounters. So when he asks Shuxiu about her work, and then decides to follow her around and learn a few things, it seems natural. There are hidden gifts in our daily lives that often go unnoticed because we’re thinking, planning, remembering, or worrying. The film is designed to make us notice these gifts, and a forest is the best place for it because it’s alive. Here is delicately beautiful, quiet, tender, funny, and generous. It invites us in.
Episode Description
A meditation on being in the present moment shows a young man on a weekend before going home from Brussels to Romania, poised between past and future.
Here, a film by Bas Devos, sort of crept up on me unawares. The title is spelled H-e-r-e, and right away that’s a bit confusing because there’s a different film with the same name this year starring Tom Hanks. Anyway, I don’t think we’re ever explicitly told where “here” is geographically, in this movie that is called Here. Not much of “who” either. The film opens on a construction site in a city, and later some of the men are hanging out after work, and the language is French. The next day, some co-workers are eating lunch on the grass, and we hear some Slavic sounding language mixed in with the French. Later in the movie, people talk in what sounds like German or Dutch. All of this is subtitled in English, but the multilingual and multicultural elements in the picture are a subtle background element, not a central theme.
Looking it all up after watching, I got the details. We’re in Brussels, where French and Flemish are spoken. Romanian immigrants work at the construction site, among whom is Stefan, played by Stefan Gota, who is about to go back home on vacation and spend a month with his aging mother. His car is in the shop, so he has to wait through the weekend until Monday before he leaves. He needs to empty his refrigerator, since he’ll be gone a month, and he makes a bunch of soup out of the vegetables, planning to give it away to various people. When the owner of the garage says the car can’t be ready in time, he gives him some of the soup and the guy relents and says he can do it by Monday after all. At a Chinese restaurant, he meets and talks to a young woman, played by Liyo Gong, who appears to work there. He has an older sister in the city, working as a nurse, and he goes to see her and they talk about family.
The point is that where they are, and the other background information the writer/director doesn’t bother to tell us, isn’t really that important. The casual rhythm of Stefan’s life, and the director’s gently observant style, are what we are actually involved in watching, not a plot or a drama.
Before the restaurant scene, we are introduced to Shuxiu, Liyo Gong’s character, in voice-over. She talks about a time once when she woke up in bed and suddenly didn’t know the names of the things around her in her room. This takes on meaning when we discover that she’s a plant scientist, engaged in naming different species of moss.
This is what’s known as slow cinema, yet it’s only 83 minutes long. Devos goes slowly not to expand our sense of time, but to focus our minds on here and now. Every shot in the picture emphasizes the experience of being present. Stefan realizes he’s not sure about leaving, that he’s a little afraid of going back home, and wishes he could put it off. Then by chance he just happens to see Shuxiu again, as he walks through a dense forest to get to the garage where his car is ready. She’s sitting on the ground near the path, studying some moss. The patient style has already established Stefan’s openness and curiosity about the people and things he encounters. So when he asks Shuxiu about her work, and then decides to follow her around and learn a few things, it seems natural.
There are hidden gifts in our daily lives that often go unnoticed because we’re thinking, planning, remembering, or worrying. The film is designed to make us notice these gifts, and a forest is the best place for it because it’s alive. Here is delicately beautiful, quiet, tender, funny, and generous. It invites us in.