Rent Our Father (2002)

Not Much Said, and Somehow That’s the Point - Our Father review by griggs

Two kids left behind by a father who vanishes with barely a word of explanation, and the film doesn’t chase him — it just watches what’s left. That’s Abouna, Haroun’s slow, patient look at two boys figuring out their dad isn’t coming back, set against the dust and heat of Chad rather than the monsoon-soaked Bengal. It’s got real Pather Panchali energy — same unhurried eye on childhood and loss, just swapping Ray’s rice paddies for Haroun’s sand dunes.

There’s no big speeches. Ali Farka Touré’s music stays out of the way rather than telling you how to feel, and long static shots just let the boys exist on screen. I kept waiting for a scene to tell me how sad I should be, and it never came — the silence does that job instead.

It’s touching without ever reaching for the tissues. The trouble is that “unhurried” occasionally tips into “a bit static,” and a couple of stretches test your patience without much payoff.

Still, it lingers. Not much happens, and somehow that’s the point.