'Twin Flower': A Story That’s As Nuanced As It Is Profound [TIFF Review]

Bolstered by revelatory performances from its leads, and a timely thematic foundation appropriate to its place and moment, “Twin Flower” (Italian: “Fiore Gemello”) tells a story that’s as nuanced as it is profound. The tale of two runaways on the road, the film is interested in relationships, community, the vulnerable, and the forgotten. And while the core elements of the story might be basic in their assemblage, the complexity afforded to the characters and the universe they inhabit speaks volumes about the steady, thoughtful hand behind all of this.

“Twin Flower” opens on one of its teenage leads, Anna (Anastasiya Bogach), running frantically through a field in Sardinia and away from a man with a stab wound. Whatever happened took place before the audience arrived, yet based on Anna’s pained and desperate expression, the situation seems dire. The film then cuts to the parking lot of a supermarket, where a young man is trying to earn a little money by helping folks with their groceries. It is unsolicited help, and he’s shooed away before long, but it seems like this teenager is both earnest and trustworthy.

When this young man happens upon Anna not long after this, she’s being harassed by a pair of aggressive men on a scooter. After he chases the pair off, the teenage boy introduces himself as Basim (Kalill Kone), and a friendship begins to form. Like Anna, Basim is on the road, though unlike Anna, he’s not a legal citizen of Italy. Both are on the run in their own way, Anna from the stabbed man, and Basim from immigration authorities, so this shared fate forms the basis for their growing bond.

As “Twin Flower” moves into its second act, Basim and Anna wander through the Italian island’s rustic countryside with the latter’s pursuer following just a few steps behind. This wounded man, Manfredi (Aniello Arena), has an aura of menace surrounding him, and despite not knowing what conflict exists between him and Anna, small details emerge to clue the audience into the fact that this person’s intentions are not at all good. Anna, mute since the incident with Manfredi, communicates through action and gesture, which speaks to the level of trauma she has experienced but also allows the film to develop its ideas rather than just lay them out for the audience.

Writer/director Laura Luchetti makes a number of fascinating and deliberate decisions like this one that compliments her story and the way she has chosen to tell it. Although the central mystery of the narrative revolves around what happened between Anna and Manfredi, it is the relationship with Basim that matters and bears the thematic fruit, here. “Twin Flower” is about humanity’s need to exist in a community, even if that means just two people. The ways Anna and Basim come to rely on each other even though neither has much physical capital to offer speaks volumes about their need to belong, despite their active, independent decisions to escape just that.

And while Luchetti can rightly take the credit for creating this world and the characters in it, none of this clicks without the masterful work of Bogach and Kone. Having no dialogue forces Bogach to communicate wholly through her body language and facial expressions, and yet there’s never any question about what she’s conveying. Similarly, Kone must often do double-duty as a vocal counterpart to his quiet traveling companion, filling in the blanks for what is unsaid, and reacting to Bogach’s silent-speak.

As the story unfolds, and the audience learns about Anna and Manfredi’s history, the conflicts that set this story in motion become clear and place this drama within a particular socio-political realm. Basim, a migrant from the Ivory Coast, is trying to make a better life for himself like so many millions coming into Europe. Anna, connected to this reality in her own way via her father, comes to appreciate what it means to be lost (along with the happiness of being “found” again).

How Anna, Basim, Sardinia, and Europe as a whole come to terms with the migratory crisis unfolding in 2018 isn’t what’s getting discussed here, but it does serve as the backdrop for what’s going on in this picture. “Twin Flower,” by telling its story upon this tapestry and via these characters, adds to this discussion responsibly by laying out parallel thematic tracks for its leads. Despite coming from different places and suffering under unconnected burdens, Anna and Basim bond through interconnected traumas tied to their similar predicaments. Their story is the shared experience of humanity, and what it means to exist within a broader community full of castaways and damaged actors. It’s a beautiful idea, and it just so happens to come to TIFF audiences in a film no less gorgeous. [A-]

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