Another modern-day, neo-realist effort from the brothers Jean-Pierre and Luc Dardenne (“Rosetta,” “La Promesse”) from the French-speaking region of Belgium, “Tori and Lokita” tells the heartbreaking tale of two immigrant children from Africa, 11-year-old Tori (newcomer Pablo Schils) and 16-year-old Lokita (newcomer Joely Mbundu). They pose as brother and sister in a Belgian city for reasons presumably having to do with access to social services. Tori has his citizenship papers. But Lokita, who cannot prove Tori is her brother, does not, so she cannot work full time, get them an apartment of their own and make enough money to send to her mother back in Benin.
Tori had to leave the country because he was accused of being a sorcerer, and his life was in genuine danger. Tightly bonded by their shared experience, they are inseparable, and now work for Belgian chef Betim (Alban Ukaj), whose Italian restaurant is a front for a drug operation.
Betim pays Tori and Lokita, who share a room in public housing and like to sing to one another and in the restaurant, a pittance to deliver his drugs. He also gives them leftover focaccia. He is their modern-day, real-life Fagin, and he is not above coercing Lokita to provide sexual favors in exchange for cash that she desperately needs to send to her mother and five siblings back home. He is despicable.
Altogether, it is a grim arrangement in a place, where exploitable, borderline illegal immigrant children are a magnet for all sorts of shady commerce and other types of abuse. Lokita is prone to debilitating panic attacks for which she takes medication. Tori is the toughest little bantam-weight hustler you may meet in a long time. He and Lokita met on the boat on a stopover in Sicily. It is perhaps there that they learned Angelo Branduardi’s “Alla Fiera Dell-Est,” a popular song often thought to be a fairy tale, but may be a dire, allegorical history of the biblical Hebrews based on the Seder song Chad Gadya. Tori and Lokita sing the song in Betim’s restaurant, perhaps a reflection of the children’s own wretched status in the world. Not even religion is a source of succor for the devout Lokita. Her “pastor” is a straight out thug who threatens and extorts money from the girl and whose enforcer, who searches the girl for cash and takes everything, is a maternal-looking “auntie.”
At a loss to raise money for her family, Lokita agrees to be locked up in a secret rural facility, where Betim and his cohorts grow weed for sale. Lokita must agree to be away from three months, leaving her beloved Tori alone. Her ordeal is Dante-esque. “Gardener” Lokita is locked away, with a TV, microwave, small bed and dingy bath. Her phone, her lifeline to Tori, is taken away.
But Tori, who becomes the latest boy in a Dardenne film to discover the value of a bicycle, hides out in Betim’s SUV to see if he can learn where Lokita is, and once at the warehouse in the woods, he puzzles out a way to break into this modern-day castle keep and be reunited with his beloved.
Shot in tight close-ups using existing lighting, “Tori and Lokita” may be the most drab-looking fairy tale you’ve ever seen. It’s a fairy tale as film noir, really, and it resonates with meaning and is a fine addition to the Dardenne brothers’ award-winning body of work.
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'TORI AND LOKITA'
(In French with English subtitles)
Grade: A-
Not rated
Running time: 1:28
How to watch: Now in theaters
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