Jean Pierre and Luc Dardennes‘ Tori and Lokita is a watchable but moderately dull heart-and-compassion film about a typical Dardnennes subject — i.e., young underdog characters who are misunderstood by or at odds with mainstream Belgian society.

It’s a tragic immigration drama set near Liege, Belgium, about a pair of young, unrelated African kids (Pablo Schils as the younger Tori, Mbundu Joely as the teenaged Lokita) who get exploited and kicked around and treated cruelly by drug-dealing wolves.

It ends sadly and shockingly. I didn’t melt down but I felt it. The Cannes snobs did cartwheels in the lobby, but it’s just moderately okay.

The Dardennes have always had this plain, unaffected directing style — just point, shoot and watch. Believable characters, realistic dialogue, no musical score. Straight-up realism, take or leave. I’ve always emerged from their films saying “yup, that was a good, honest film” but I’ve never really been knocked flat. Because their plain-and-straight signature only penetrates so far. In my case at least.

If you know the Dardennes and how their films tend to play, Tori and Lokita feels very familiar You can’t help feeling sorry for these kids, but desperate immigrants have been getting kicked around and exploited for centuries, haven’t they? Life can be heartless for have-nots.

Tori and Lokita had its big debut in Cannes ten months ago. It opened in Europe last fall, and was available on Bluray & streaming late last October. Sideshow and Janus Film will give it a limited opening stateside on 3.24.23.

Aspects of Gone With The Wind are obviously antiquated and icky, and I don’t blame those who’ve washed their hands of it over the odious racial stuff. But it’s not, as an Ankler burb recently stated, “one of Hollywood most disgraced films.” That’s putting it way too harshly. The film’s distasteful attitudes aside, it’s more noteworthy for being one of Hollywood’s most misunderstood films. By wokesters, I mean.

I’ve posted this three or four times over the last seven years, but here goes again: “I don’t believe it’s right to throw Gone With The Wind under the bus just like that. Yes, it’s an icky and offensive film at times (Vivien Leigh‘s Scarlett O’Hara slapping Butterly McQueen‘s Prissy for being irresponsible in the handling of Melanie giving birth, the depiction of Everett Brown‘s Big Sam as a gentle, loyal and eternal defender of Scarlett when the chips are down) but every time I’ve watched GWTW I’ve always put that stuff in a box in order to focus on the real order of business.

“For Gone With The Wind is not a film about slavery or the antebellum South or even, really, the Civil War. It’s a movie about (a) a struggle to survive under ghastly conditions and (b) about how those with brass and gumption often get through the rough patches better than those who embrace goodness and generosity and playing by the rules. This is a fundamental human truth, and if you ask me the reason Gone With The Wind has resonated for so long is that generation after generation has recognized it as such. Anyone who’s ever faced serious adversity understands the eloquence of that classic Scarlett O’Hara line, “I’ll never be hungry again.”

“I think GWTW particularly connected with 1939 audiences because they saw it as a parable of the deprivations that people had gone through during the Great Depression.

“On top of which the second half of part one of Gone With The Wind (the shelling of Atlanta to Scarlett shaking her first at those red skies) is undeniably great cinema. Max Steiner‘s music, the struggle, the crowd scenes, the panic, the burning of Atlanta, Ernest Haller‘s cinematography, the anguish, the soldiers groaning and moaning, Scarlett’s drooling horse collapsing from exhaustion, the moonlight breaking through as she approaches Tara…you just can’t throw all that out. Yes, the film’s unfortunate racial attitudes, which were lamentably par for the course 75 years ago, are now socially obsolete. And I wouldn’t argue with anyone who feels that portions of it are too distasteful to celebrate, but it just doesn’t seem right to lock all of that richness inside some ignoble closet and say “no more, forget about it, put it out of your minds.” Legendary filmmaking is legendary filmmaking.”