In Meet the Barbarians writer-director Julie Delpy crafts a satirical yet poignant narrative that examines France’s (and arguably Europe’s) complex relationship with refugees and the ingrained prejudices that fuel it. Screening in the International Competition of the Cairo Film Festival, the story unfolds in the charming town of Paimpont, where everyone is excited with plans to welcome a Ukrainian refugee family, as though a popular band was coming on tour. Portraits of Ukrainian President Zelensky are put on the wall and the Ukrainian flag is raised, but taken down when the news hits.
It turns out that a Syrian family arrives instead, and the disappointed villagers are forced to confront their prejudices. This unexpected turn of events exposes both the hospitality and hypocrisy lying just below the surface, revealing how quickly good intentions can be overshadowed by prejudice.
One of the disappointed townspeople even remarks that there is a lot of demand for Ukrainian refugees, and that’s why they didn’t get to have any.
Julie Delpy, who directs and stars, brings her signature dark humor to this charged topic. Her sharp comic situations and dialogue infuses Meet the Barbarians with a humor that is as cutting as it is thought-provoking, using comedy as a tool to peel away the layers of bias and self-righteousness. The town has it all: a small businessman turned mayor, a racist (borderline antisemitic) handyman, a drunken housewife and an uptight shop owner, as well an enthusiastic and compassionate teacher who welcomes the family.
Rather than taking a heavy approach, Delpy opts for satire, which allows her to probe controversial and unconventional patterns of racism without standing on a high moral horse. In fact, the film’s mockumentary style enhances the satire by capturing the townsfolk’s reactions in real time, as though documented by an impartial observer. The presence of a TV camera crew brings to life The Office vibe.
This choice brings a rawness to the humor, making it feel like a window on real life rather than a scripted piece. The cast, featuring Sandrine Kiberlain, Laurent Lafitte, and Ziad Bakri, brings Paimpont to life as a town that might seem picturesque but is rife with internal tensions. The townsfolk’s reactions range from comic ignorance to overt hostility, and the film reveals that even those who seem welcoming harbor biases.
Delpy’s character, a progressive and woke schoolteacher who eagerly lectures others, highlighting that even good intentions can be misguided. Meanwhile, local comments comparing Syrians unfavorably to Ukrainians underscore the random hierarchies people create in times of crisis. Through these caricatures, Delpy manages to criticize both ends of the political spectrum.
The center of the narrative is the Fayad family, whose members each cope with their displacement differently. Marwan (Ziad Bakri) struggles to reconcile his identity with the compromises forced upon him by his new reality. Bakri’s performance captures Marwan’s quiet despair, as he feels betrayed by a world that once offered him hope. His character also sheds light on the fact that professional immigrants who had high and respectable jobs have to start from scratch in exile. His father, Hasan (Fares Helou), is similarly disillusioned and quick-tempered, unable to adjust to the unfamiliar surroundings. By contrast, Marwan’s wife, Louna (Dalia Naous), remains pragmatic and determined to make the best of their situation. Her optimism and resilience are both admirable and heartbreaking; she is the only one who sees Paimpont as a potential home. Their children, too, are subjected to prejudice at school, facing challenges that highlight the innocence lost in such situations.
The family is a reminder of the sacrifices forced upon refugees, even beyond the loss of homeland. If a person was once a doctor or engineer in Syria, but their credentials have been destroyed, they’re faced with an almost impossible task of proving their worth in a foreign land.
The film doesn’t simply mock prejudice; it critiques the systems that encourage and enable it. It also reflects on how society categorizes refugees, assigning different values based on nationality or perceived social worth. Although the film is not based on a true story, it hits hard to lean that a Google search back to February 2022, when the Ukrainian refugee crisis started, turns up so many TV commentators who indicated that it was easier to host Ukrainians because they are “civilized” and they “looked like other Europeans”.
Delpy avoids the trap of reducing her characters to mere symbols of good or evil. The townsfolk represent an often-comfortable indifference to the struggles of others. Yes, they are comic in their ignorance, but they are also frightening in their power to determine the fate of the Syrian family. This dynamic injects real tension into the film, as racial and cultural prejudices simmer just below the surface, threatening to erupt into hostility at any moment.
As a filmmaker Delpy keeps the film engaging throughout, with editing by Camille Delprat that ensures each moment serves a purpose in this dark comedy. Georges Lechaptois’s cinematography captures the beauty of Brittany, contrasting the landscape with the darker side of the story.
In a world where refugees continue to be marginalized and categorized, Meet the Barbarians is both timely and necessary. In Egypt, there is a rising wave of anti-immigrant rhetoric, and semi-official blame is laid on the country’s economic challenges on refugees from Sudan, Gaza, and Syria. Similarly, there are often racist and sexist jokes that ‘refugees from Lebanon’ are welcome, mainly hinting at Lebanese women. It’s very important to have the film screened in Cairo, but also internationally where refugees, especially those of color, are subjected to systematic campaigns of hatred and racism.
Director,: Julie Delpy
Producer: Michaël Gentile
Screenplay: Julie Delpy, Matthieu Rumani, Nicolas Slomka, Lea Domenech
Cast: Julie Delpy, Sandrine Kiberlain, Laurent Lafitte, Ziad Bakri, Jean-Charles Clichet, India Hair.
Cinematography: Georges Lechaptois
Editing: Camille Delprat
Music: Philippe Jakko
Production companies: The Film, Le Pacte
In French, English, Arabic
102 minutes
