A child’s experience of exile

This is the fifth item in our 2026 culture special with reviews of artists' works with developmental relevance.

Haiti 1975. It’s Carnival. Despite his mother’s prohibition, 9-year-old Rico slips out his front door on his own and wanders through his small port town. Caribbean rhythms, fantastical costumes, laughter and dancing fill the streets, and Rico’s imagination weaves everything into a mystical cosmos. “It’s too dangerous,” his mother had warned him. “We don’t know who is whom tonight.” The Carnival festivities temporarily suspend reality; they hide social hierarchies and affiliations. But it’s just an illusion.

For Rico, this surreal ramble will be the last he takes in his hometown. When he returns home, he sees his mother Erzulie being beaten by the henchmen of dictator Jean-Claude Duvalier. That same night, the pair flee in the direction of the USA and Canada. Haitian opposition members help them until they find accommodation with a Canadian couple living in the countryside.

The contrast to their homeland can hardly be bigger. Trudging through deep snow, they arrive in a small village that has its own social structures and conventions. While Erzulie struggles with her trauma, which leaves her scarcely able to care for her son, Albert and Cécile tend to him with affection and patience. Albert takes Rico hunting and on snowmobile rides. But whether in the village or at school, Rico is constantly confronted with racism and bullying.

The villagers also direct their snide remarks and taunts at the couple who took him in. With their compassionate natures, Albert and Cécile don’t quite fit into the entrenched village community either. We get the feeling that belonging and home have to do not only with the place where we live and grow up, but also with the people who surround us. Albert and Rico form an unusual, unequal, yet special friendship that helps them confront their situation with a shared longing for life’s beautiful moments.

Overcoming misfortune

The film’s emotional power is conveyed through the atmosphere it creates. Moving music and magical imagery give expression to Rico’s inner world. To cope with displacement and trauma, he conjures an imaginary friend, a small boy drawn from Haitian folklore, who helps him through difficult moments and stays with him until fate begins to brighten. Luxembourgish co-producer Neigeme Glasgow-Maeda, originally from Trinidad and Tobago, observes: “Even after experiencing something terrible, people can still find happiness again.”

The portrayal of young Rico, through whose perspective the story unfolds, also stands out. Actor Rayan Dieudonné delivers an expressive and authentic performance. Such convincing child actors are rare in international cinema, which makes his casting all the more remarkable. “We found him in a community centre in Québec while he was still a refugee,” Glasgow-Maeda explains. The ten-year-old had no prior acting experience, but he brought essential life experience to the role. Like his character, Dieudonné is from Haiti. Together with his family, Glasgow-Maeda recounts, he fled to Venezuela, crossed the continent northwards and finally walked the perilous Roxham Route from the United States to Canada. By the time he arrived, the ten-year-old spoke Haitian Creole, French, English and Spanish. “In many ways,” Glasgow-Maeda notes, “he was telling his own story.”

Film 
Kanaval, 2023. Canada, Luxembourg, Haiti, 1 h 52 min. Director: Henri Pardo.

Eva-Maria Verfürth is the editor-in-chief of D+C.
euz.editor@dandc.eu