‘A Cup Of Coffee And New Shoes On’: Tallinn Review

Dir/scr: Gentian Koci. Albania/Portugal/Greece/Kosovo. 2022. 99mins

Agim (Rafael Morais) and Gezim (Edgar Morais) are thirty-something identical twin brothers who have been deaf-mute from birth. They work and and live together, sharing a bright, airy apartment in the Albanian capital Tirana. But as monozygotic twins they share more than space in each other’s lives; they also have an identical genetic makeup. And lurking in their DNA is a time bomb, a rare and incurable inherited condition which means that both brothers will permanently and completely lose their sight as well their hearing. The second feature from Gentian Koci is superb: a wrenchingly sad existential drama that is driven by phenomenal performances from Portuguese actor brothers Rafael and Edgar Morais.

What’s most impressive about the film, and specifically the performances from Rafael and Edgar Morais, is the depth and detail of the characterisation

Koci cut his teeth as a documentary filmmaker, with pictures such as Not A Carwash (2012). His fiction feature debut, Daybreak, premiered in Sarajevo in 2017 before scooping numerous prizes during a healthy festival run. It was Albania’s submission for the International category of the Academy Awards, an achievement which is shared by A Cup Of Coffee And New Shoes On. Bruising as it is emotionally (there’s poignancy added by the fact that a true story inspires the film), the picture is perhaps a more accessible prospect than Daybreak, which is a gruelling social realist drama about a desperate single mother. Following its premiere in the main competition in Tallinn, the film should enjoy further festival interest and could achieve modest success theatrically or through a curated streaming platform.

A lovely wordless sequence sets up the warm embrace of the brothers’ home life. Gezim’s girlfriend Ana (Drita Kabashi) dances into the kitchen and puts some music on; the brothers sit opposite each other at the breakfast table, postures and the slightest of smiles mirrored over coffee as they gaze out of the window, drinking in the cherry blossom on the tree outside. The only hint that something is unusual is the fact that Agim’s mug falls from the table and smashes, and neither man reacts to the noise.

The aural component is smartly used throughout the film. Koci resists the temptation to use showy, tricksy techniques, instead subtly sharpening and hardening the ambient sound. The rattle and clatter of crockery, for example, when Agim does the washing up, is harsher – Agim is oblivious to sounds that a hearing person would find jarring. And the diegetic music in the picture gradually fizzles out as the men’s horizons shrink. Where once they would dance to music they couldn’t hear, taking their rhythm from watching Ana’s movements, the degeneration in their eyesight threatens to rob them of the ability to perform even the most basic tasks – bathroom visits are a minefield – and ultimately stymie almost all communication with each other and the wider world.

What’s most impressive about the film, and specifically the performances from Rafael and Edgar Morais, is the depth and detail of the characterisation. The two men look almost identical, but they are distinct as personalities. Gezim is sweeter, goofier and generally happier; Agim, even before the sight loss diagnosis, is darker, protective, more burdened by shapeless, shadowy fears. Those fears coalesce as his condition deteriorates. But while losing his vision terrifies him, the idea of losing sight of his brother scares him even more.