The Call: A slow trek through sand and soul

Is it worth your time?

If you like movies that move at the speed of a camel, you’ll probably find something here. It’s definitely not for the popcorn-and-a-soda crowd who want constant movement. If you’re into historical biographies that feel like they were filmed in a different century—which, well, they were—you might dig it. But be warned: it’s a slog if you aren’t in the right headspace.

There is this one moment where the camera just sits on the horizon for what feels like ten minutes. No music. No dialogue. Just heat waves rising off the sand. It’s frustrating, sure, but then you realize you’ve stopped checking your watch. That’s when the movie actually starts working on you.

Desert life, basically

Watching this made me think about El tren in the weirdest way. Both movies treat travel like a physical burden. Foucauld’s journey from a military man to a desert hermit is jarring. One minute he’s in a uniform, all stiff and proper, and the next he’s basically just a guy in robes trying to be quiet. The transition feels a little rushed, honestly. Like he just decided one morning to trade his sword for a prayer book and that was that.

The cast is huge. Maybe too huge. Sometimes I couldn't tell who was a soldier and who was a local, but maybe that’s the point? The desert flattens everyone out. The acting is very much of its time—lots of dramatic stares and hand-wringing. It’s not subtle. But when Jean Yonnel is on screen, he manages to ground the whole thing. He looks like he’s actually spent a few years under the sun.

• The sand looks endless. I mean, really, really endless.
• The sound design is mostly just wind. It gets repetitive but in a hypnotic way.
• Some of the dialogue sounds like it was ripped straight out of a textbook.

I caught myself thinking about Fanfan-la-Tulipe while watching the early scenes. Both deal with French military life, but they are miles apart in tone. Where one is playful and loud, The Call is just heavy. It’s a bit like a penance to watch it, but in a way that feels oddly necessary.

The pacing is a mess. It stops and starts so much that you lose the thread of the story. Does it matter? Maybe not. You aren't here for the plot twists. You’re here to watch a guy walk into the desert and never really come back. It lingers on things that don't need lingering, like the preparation of tea or the folding of clothes. I kind of liked that, actually.

It’s not a masterpiece. It’s too uneven for that. But it’s got this strange, dusty sincerity that you just don't see anymore. You can tell the crew was tired, hot, and probably miserable. You can see it in the way they handle the props. It’s raw. Maybe a bit too raw. But hey, it beats another CGI fest, right? 🌵