Home is where the heart is, the place in which we feel the most comfortable and secure, safe from the outside world that tries to invade the sanctuary we have constructed for ourselves, whether literal or metaphorical. This idea serves as the foundation for Costa Brava, Lebanon, the wildly ambitious and deeply meaningful solo directorial debut by Mounia Akl, who tells the story of a close-knit clan living in a mountain-top utopia in the pastoral tranquility of the countryside of Lebanon, only to find their idyllic lives being disrupted by the arrival of a team of contractors sent to turn the neighbouring plot of natural land into an enormous landfill, which is supposedly an essential activity in terms of the national infrastructure, but clearly a calculated move to assert their authority on what the patriarch of the family claims is the only independently-minded group left in a country being driven apart by various issues, whether internal or international. It’s a powerful and meaningful film directed by a promising young filmmaker that proves herself to be an exciting new voice in world cinema, and someone whose clear vision and deep compassion for a range of stories is reflected in every frame of this film, which conversely simmers with the intensity of someone who understands the unimpeachable nature of cinema to not only tell stories and describe the world in which it inhabits, but also meditate deeply and with great conviction on issues much larger than those that can be contained in a single story – and this is precisely the reason behind Costa Brava, Lebanon being a work of both narrative and metaphorical integrity.

There’s a lot of political and cultural subtext to Costa Brava, Lebanon that becomes increasingly clear, even for those of us who don’t have as much as a nuanced understanding of the nation or its various contemporary machinations. Ultimately, all one needs to grasp that this film is a work of great importance is a general knowledge of Lebanon’s history, as well as a willingness to engage with what is an unexpectedly challenging work. Here we are presented with a very simple narrative – a family retreats from the bustling urban space of Beirut (which comes with both economic and political issues that drive them away), only to find the capital city has not forgotten about them, and has chosen to come to them in lieu of its efforts to lure them back. At a cursory glance, Costa Brava, Lebanon is an intriguing work precisely because it has such a simple structure, but is executed with such unique precision, it avoids all potential allegations of being a simplistic view of a country that’s issues are residing in the public consciousness, but not enough to constantly draw our attention. There’s a lot of commentary simmering beneath the surface – undeniably, a lot of it is more relatable to those who have experienced these issues first-hand – but it doesn’t take too much work to realize the scope on which Akl is constructing this film, which is far more than just a binary view of a country undergoing change, but a fascinating document of a world being driven apart by a range of complex issues, all of which are contained in the fabric of this incredibly compelling and meaningful work.

Characterization is key to Costa Brava, Lebanon – after all, this is not a film driven by the plot so much as it is the characters that populate it. It’s a character-based piece, and one that requires our fervent attention to fully grasp the scope of the material, or what can be discerned from only a rudimentary knowledge of what the director was doing with this story. We are in exceptional hands throughout the film, not only on the part of those helming the production, but also the actors cast to bring the characters to life – we have acclaimed veteran actors Saleh Bakri and Nadine Labaki that hold court as the de facto leads, playing the parents of two young daughters who are struggling to put together a life that is both comfortable and safe, while Geana and Seana Restom and Nadia Charbel are exceptionally gifted in the roles of their daughters, and Mirette El Hariri as the elderly matriarch who starts as the comedic relief, but eventually becomes the emotional anchor of the whole film. If there’s a small flaw to be found in Costa Brava, Lebanon, it would be that we never quite know who the focal character of the film is – but this is not a condemnation of the writing and any implication that it lacked direction, but rather praise towards the fact that not only is every character well-written (being fully three-dimensional and interesting), the cast is uniformly excellent. There is not a weak link amongst this ensemble, to the point where it’s clear that this film was a special project for all involved, since their spirited performances so beautifully work with Akl’s screenplay, which was designed to utilize its actors as more than just characters, but vessels in which her many impressive ideas could be carried to audiences.

What makes this film so effective is not clear from the outset, but rather unfolds as the story progresses. A large part of this comes in the way the director handles the material – she is working with tone in a way that could be seen as risky, but which ultimately pays off. Costa Brava, Lebanon is looking at a very serious subject, as filtered through the vaguely eccentric and quirky story of a family that retreated into near-isolation, only to find the past chasing after them. It’s fertile ground for both comedy and tragedy, and while the film is in no way defined by a lighthearted tone, the small insertions of humour help break the tension and remind us of the unimpeachable humanity that underpins the film. We see a group of people undergoing several challenges, and rather than resorting to the same trite sentimentality we’d expect from such a story (especially considering how Akl is a relative novice when it comes to filmmaking, so some degree of convention is to be expected), the director goes about it in a way that is complex but enjoyable – the story flows with a consistent stream of emotion, but it never feels forced, or as if we’re being placed in the position of having certain sensations demanded from us in order to understand the story. It can sometimes be quite a harsh film in both form and content (and the comparisons drawn between this story and the broader socio-cultural situation in Lebanon is extraordinary, especially in how the director condenses it into a manageable form), but it is still very much accessible, with Akl’s precise directorial vision certainly favouring a more distinct style of storytelling, which amounts to something really special.

Costa Brava, Lebanon is a film about fervent rebellion, whether it be on a small scale or a much larger level. Protest and unease are essential not only to drawing attention to important issues, but also establishing a precedent for future generations, who are likely to look back at those that decided to fight for their rights and find inspiration. This film is not focused on large-scale protest, since doing so would require a much bigger undertaking, as well as being far less interesting, since it would lend itself to be lavish filmmaking, but at the expense of the more experimental approach we see here. This is a film borne out of a combination of passion and necessity – how else can one explain the deep, undying devotion that the director demonstrates, both in how the interprets the story, and represents it visually? This is not a flaccid, uninteresting social issues drama, but rather a vibrant, compelling and essential work, carefully curated by someone who seems to care so deeply about the material, it is difficult to find any fault in her approach, even at those more bleak moments where it feels like she is heading towards the increasingly darker territory. Costa Brava, Lebanon is an achingly beautiful, blisteringly funny and deeply meaningful meditation on the world and its various idiosyncracies, and the kind of thought-provoking masterwork that not only demands our attention, but also our sincerest admiration, since its full-bodied complexity is truly something to behold.