4/5 stars A depressing but very necessary film, Capharnaüm deals head-on with many of the horrors of modern times: child abuse, human trafficking, extreme poverty and the problems faced by undocumented individuals. A nominee for best foreign-language film at the 2019 Oscars, Lebanese director Nadine Labaki’s third feature takes a miniature view of these big issues, focusing on the novel idea of a child suing his abusive parents on the grounds that they shouldn’t have brought him into the world if they were not planning to care for him. In spite of this clever take on the situation, Capharnaüm is not unduly philosophical in nature, and spends most of its running time depicting the terrible things the child has to face, rather than dwelling on the theoretical ins-and-outs of parenting. Beirut review: Jon Hamm, Rosamund Pike in engaging 1980s-set political thriller The story begins in the courtroom, and then flashes back to show how the characters got there. The young Zain (Zain al Rafeea, a 12-year-old Syrian refugee who had never acted before) lives in extreme poverty in the slums of Beirut with his inept and abusive parents and numerous siblings. Zain’s worry is that his 11-year-old sister will be married off for a price to help with the family’s income. When this occurs, Zain flees his home in disgust, and is taken in by Rahil (Yordanos Shiferaw), an undocumented Ethiopian immigrant. Zain helps Rahil by looking after baby Yonas while she works. But then the disgusting Aspro (Alaa Chouchnieh), who is involved in human trafficking, tries to convince Rahil to sell him baby Yonas in return for money to buy a forged visa. Stylistically, this is a careful piece of neo-realism. Director Labaki chose to use non-professional actors because she wanted to depict real struggles on the screen, and genuine desperation does show in the faces of the characters, many of whom have lost any semblance of humanity due to privation. Documentation, a global issue, plays a big part in the characters’ problems. Zain’s troubles are partially down to the fact that his demoralised parents did not bother to register him at birth. Rahil is also undocumented, and fear of deportation exposes her to exploitation and abuse. The lengths that individuals will stoop to to get documentation is a major driver of the film. The real enemy is, of course, poverty. Although Zain’s appalling parents are rightly not let off the hook, his mother is allowed to claim that she does her best for her kids in impossible circumstances – she hates herself for the way her children are forced to live. But Zain’s point is that parents should not have children unless they can guarantee they will love them and provide for them. Want more articles like this? Follow SCMP Film on Facebook