At the end of director Amel Guellaty’s debut feature, “Where the Wind Comes From,” our protagonist, Mehdi, writes a letter to his best friend Alyssa after their days-long, spontaneous road trip throughout the film. “I feel like everything goes slowly without you,” we hear him say in a voiceover. Immediately, I thought of late-night drives and sunny beach visits with my friends, of all the moments in my life that I’ve loved and cherished with my loved ones.
Ever since I first watched it in Cinetopia 2025, “Where the Wind Comes From” is the first movie that comes to mind whenever someone brings up the concept of platonic love. Set in post-Arab Spring Tunisia, the film follows two childhood best friends — the unruly 19-year-old Alyssa (Eya Bellagha, “Harga”) and the bashful 23-year-old Mehdi (Slim Baccar, “Streams”). Bitter about the dysfunctional state of their families and hometown, the two embark on a road trip to Djerba for Mehdi’s art competition, an opportunity to make a large sum of easy cash that would allow them to escape from Tunisia like they’ve always wanted.
On the surface, the plot sounds fairly straightforward, perhaps even abiding by the coming-of-age road trip teenage drama playbook a little too closely. We have a pair of childhood friends, a girl and a guy, who want more out of life; we have spontaneous stops as they get up to some hijinks; and we have our beloved, stolen car gradually breaking down in the middle of the movie to mirror the fracturing of Alyssa and Mehdi’s friendship.
While it is true that “Where the Wind Comes From” follows the age-old formula, the basic structure allows Guellaty’s writing and directorial decisions to thrive, making the film feel anything but cliché. For the majority of the film, Guellaty chooses to frame Alyssa and Mehdi’s interactions within the front seats. We observe Alyssa and Mehdi’s friendship evolve and waver in the tight space of the car. During their lighthearted moments, they bicker and fool around, taking comfort in each other’s presence. We hear about Alyssa’s family and Mehdi’s dreams, and the levity of their conversations makes the small space of the car feel spacious rather than cramped. The cinematography is fairly static during these scenes, allowing the actors’ performances and chemistry to shine through.
At the end of the second act, though, the threads of their friendship splinter when their polar opposite personalities clash. Upon discovering that Alyssa had been keeping a secret that could endanger them both, Mehdi explodes at Alyssa, marking the climax of the film as the main relationship threatens to snap. It is only then that the car feels claustrophobic. Suddenly, the tension between the two becomes so palpable that you could feel it building in the audience, too.
The actors’ dynamic performances and Guellaty’s choice to frame the entire film solely on the two make it clear that Guellaty is more concerned about characterization than plot. As such, the movie’s social commentary is mostly communicated through Mehdi and Alyssa’s relationship rather than surprising exchanges.
For example, Guellaty uses their opposite gender identities (and thus differing lived experiences) to critique the status quo. Mehdi’s upbringing as the youngest son in his family means he is burdened with expectations to be the ideal Tunisian man, choosing to major in STEM instead of pursuing the artistic career of his dreams. The contrast between Alyssa’s brazen personality and Mehdi’s resigned attitude causes their closeness — Alyssa is the reason Mehdi even submitted his artwork for the competition in the first place. She constantly fuels his ambition, encouraging him to pursue his artistic passion and thus complementing his reserved nature. At the same time, the security that Alyssa associates with Mehdi is emphasized time and time again. Alyssa endures misogyny throughout the movie and even deals with sexual assault from a group of men in one particularly harrowing scene. Despite this happening right after her fight with Mehdi, she instinctively looks for his help, and he immediately comes to her aid without asking any questions.
The platonic relationship between Mehdi and Alyssa reinforces Guellaty’s message. In such a cisheteronormative society, a purely platonic friendship between a male and female character is rare to see in the media. The fact that Mehdi and Alyssa’s friendship is selfless when it comes to one another, especially in such a fraught situation like gender-based sexual violence, should be the standard. Where most directors might be tempted to create romantic tension between a guy and a girl just for the sake of drama, Guellaty completely subverts the trope and instead explores the complicated nuances in a friendship between the opposite genders.
“Where the Wind Comes From” is the embodiment of platonic love because it isn’t afraid of examining the complexities in human love, no matter the form. Mehdi and Alyssa’s selfless love for one another, completely devoid of romantic desire and instead defined by their choice to always show up for one another, is something that I have come to cherish more in my own life and my friends. The movie encapsulates the beauty of platonic love first and foremost, causing you to reflect on your own life and all your past friendships that have become just as, if not more important than, romantic relationships.
Daily Arts Writer Nat Shimon can be reached at nshimon@umich.edu.
