Item: Here
Rating: 7
Author: Eli Brau

Bas Devos‘ Here is a subtle delight, the kind of film that quietly sneaks up on you and leaves an unexpectedly profound emotional impact. Its supremely melancholic and understated style might appear unobtrusive at first glance, but Devos has a talent for crafting movies that stay with you long after they are finished.

Rather than focusing on a meticulously structured narrative, Here thrives on its suggestive storytelling, where meaning is found in the spaces between actions and dialogue. Devos is a filmmaker captivated by specificity, creating a line of idiosyncratic images and moments that feel deeply personal and evocative. The film’s strength lies in its ability to immerse viewers in a world where every quiet gesture or fleeting glance carries the weight of unspoken emotions.

Liyo Gong and Stefan Gota in Here (2024), directed by Bas Devos

In Here, Bas Devos sets his story in Brussels, delicately exploring the lives of migrants navigating their identities and place in a foreign land. The film focuses on Stefan (Stefan Gota), a Romanian construction worker caught in a quiet inner conflict. Stefan appreciates the life he’s built in Brussels, yet he struggles to fully embrace it as home.

The approaching holiday serves as a pivotal moment for Stefan. He debates whether to return to Romania to visit his mother, using the break as an opportunity to reconnect with his roots and consider staying closer to his family moving forward. This tension between the life he’s constructed in Brussels and the pull of his homeland underpins the emotional core of the film, exploring themes of belonging, identity, and the longing for connection in an ever-shifting world.

On one of his final nights in Brussels, Stefan meets ShuXiu (Liyo Gong), a Belgian-Chinese doctorate student who quietly shifts the course of his introspective journey. ShuXiu is a reserved and contemplative young woman, spending her days studying moss for her research or working long hours at a local Chinese takeout restaurant. Her presence and demeanor exude the same quiet melancholy that defines Stefan’s own existence.

Liyo Gong delivers a performance that feels perfectly attuned to Stefan Gota’s understated portrayal, with both characters radiating an unspoken vulnerability. Their shared somberness creates a profound emotional resonance as they navigate the transient connection formed between them, their lives intersecting in a fleeting but deeply impactful way. ShuXiu’s quiet passion for her work contrasts with Stefan’s yearning for home, yet both characters grapple with questions of belonging and the delicate balance between staying and leaving.

Stefan Gota and Liyo Gong in Here (2024), directed by Bas Devos

As Stefan and ShuXiu navigate the remainder of the film together, they enter a timeless, almost dreamlike sequence that feels suspended from the rest of reality. Their connection unfolds in a seemingly eternal meet-cute that defies traditional notions of time, allowing them to exist wholly in the moment. It’s not the length of their acquaintance that matters, but rather the depth of understanding they foster in one another.

Both characters, burdened by their own uncertainties and struggles, find solace in the realization that they are not alone in their respective battles. Stefan, torn between the pull of his Romanian roots and his present life in Brussels, sees a reflection of his own inner conflict in ShuXiu’s quiet determination and solitude. Likewise, ShuXiu finds an unexpected kinship in Stefan, someone who, like her, is navigating a life caught between places and identities. Their connection becomes a small but vital reprieve from the weight of their individual circumstances, offering them a shared sense of humanity and hope.

Bas Devos’ Here thrives on the small, delicate details that elevate it beyond the realm of a conventional soft-spoken romance. The film’s emphasis on atmosphere, subtle emotional beats, and quiet, unspoken connections is reminiscent of the works of Kelly Reichardt (First Cow, Showing Up) and Chloé Zhao (Nomadland). Like their films, Here demands a slower, more contemplative engagement from its audience. It’s a cinematic experience where the journey, no matter how understated, is just as meaningful as any narrative resolution.

For those willing to invest in its gentle rhythms, Here offers rich rewards. Devos crafts a world where every glance, pause, and whisper feels imbued with meaning, making Here a standout work of quiet brilliance. A tender, melancholic, and deeply rewarding experience for those who embrace its subtlety and grace.

Score: 7/10