Je t’aime Monsieur Lazhar

Je t’aime Monsieur Lazhar. In fact, I like him so much I’d give his eponymous film an Oscar.

The City of Toronto honoured it, Best Canadian Feature Film. And if you can spare 94 minutes of your time and attention, you’ll love it too.

Monsieur Lazhar’s story is that of an immigrant fleeing political and personal challenges in his homeland, Algeria, and who hopes to be allowed to start over in metropolitan Montreal, Quebec, Canada.

Fellag, who plays Lazhar, shows us a sincere man willing to earn his place, and who takes the initiative to do so; but we don’t make it easy.  In fact, his situation showcases political/societal issues Canadians are struggling with now, such as:

• Who deserves political asylum?
• How do we better integrate and respect immigrants as contributors and new citizens?

I came away with a new respect for the immigration/refugee process and the mandarins who interface with immigrant hopefuls.

And while some of Lazhar’s challenges make him seem secretive and old-fashioned, none can tame his spirit as he and his adopted classroom of children reconcile with death, its contributing causes, and aftermath.

Like sex, death is one of those subjects that adults struggle to explain to children. But if you’re honest with yourself and others, and keep trying to find a way to understand and explain it all, success, Lazhar shows us, is possible.

Fables, for example, might be an effective means of explaining and understanding change. You listen, reflect, and then own the story — this is what Lahzar teaches his children to do. And in the process, the teacher becomes a wiser student of life himself.

Director Philippe Falardeau presents the story as if to a hometown audience, it feels intimate, not glossy and refined or depressing. The details of a poor immigrant’s life are apparent down to Monsieur Lazhar’s well-worn (likely inexpensive) suit coat, which pills at the shoulder, as if for a long time he’s been slinging bags over his shoulder and walking a long way.

At the same time, Monsieur Lazhar could replicate his experience in any modern city, including here in Toronto. The issues of politics, language, culture, and pedagogy would run the same course.

Falardeau’s film moves steadily, carefully reflecting the tentativeness, and sometimes overt push-pull of life, but it refrains from being overly didactic or sappy. Morally, it doesn’t provide simple answers to the questions it asks.  It simply provides a glimpse into a very interconnected world, showing that the decisions one makes goes on having consequences, even when one finally escapes the strain it wrought.

In the end, not only do we gain insight into the immigrant experience, and especially of immigrants seeking political asylum, but also into the experiences of some savvy children who have personal and community challenges of their own to work through.

Dance with me, Monsieur Lazhar. You are so charming.