By: Kelly Kearney
The Tropic Sun and His Eyes lands at the 2026 Tribeca Film Festival with quiet confidence. The drama filmed in Cap-Haïtien comes to New York with a deeply reflective story about reconciliation, grief and the complicated bonds between fathers and sons. Set against the island’s vivid backdrop, the film, from director Elisee Junior St. Preux follows Ruben, a withdrawn young man traveling home to reconnect with his estranged and dying father. Along the way he is joined by an orphaned street kid whose boundless optimism slowly challenges Ruben’s resentment and emotional isolation. What begins as a journey toward a sick father becomes a journey toward Ruben and the boy’s healing.
Ruben’s Journey
The film opens with remarkably little dialogue, as it focuses on Ruben (Stevenson Jean) with close tight shots allowing his face to tell the story that brought him back to the island city he once called home. We learn only that he is searching for his father with whom he has a strained relationship. The camera lingers on Cap-Haïtien–a large city on Haiti’s northern coast, as much as it does its protagonist. With beautiful sweeping shots cut between grainy candid clips, the crystal-clear beaches, crowded streets thick with smog and movement, and children playing football amongst the coconut groves, are all seen through Ruben’s observant eyes. The island – with its diverse landscapes of beaches and mountains (city and remote) – becomes both a setting and a character.
An old camcorder, picked up by an orphaned boy (Blangue Machiny) fascinated by Ruben’s travels, becomes an important part of the film’s visual language. The self-described “good kid” immediately attaches himself to Ruben, desperate for friendship, guidance, or perhaps simply a father figure. After persistent pleading, Ruben reluctantly allows the boy to accompany him on the condition that he knows the mountain shortcuts and he promises to stay six feet away at all times. Of course, the boy rarely follows that rule. Full of wonder and energy, he dances, films everything around him and greets life with a smile brighter than the Haitian sun. While Ruben encounters fishermen, fortune tellers and strangers who offer wisdom along the road, it is the boy who remains his constant companion and greatest teacher. Their relationship deepens through frustration, laughter and conflict, particularly after the boy steals clothes in an attempt to look presentable for a father he hopes to have someday. Ruben’s response is stern but compassionate, offering the child the kind of guidance he desperately lacks.
A Street Kid’s Optimism Becomes The Heart of the Film
The heart of the film belongs to the young Machiny, whose performance radiates authenticity and joy without ever feeling sentimental. He serves as both comic relief and emotional anchor, teaching Ruben lessons he doesn’t realize he needs to learn.
Several scenes stand out, but none more than a playful moment when the boy begins tickling Ruben. Initially irritated and defensive, Ruben tries to push him away, but slowly (and almost against his will) he relents. The scene marks one of the first cracks in the emotional wall he built around himself and becomes a turning point in their relationship. The smile that breaks upon his brooding face feels like a victory for the boy who seeks out ways to be useful on their journey. The moment of lightness not only highlights the innocence of the boy but also delves deep into Ruben’s inner child, someone he seems to have forgotten during his years living in America.
This boy (at times simultaneously immature and an old soul) may not have a home, but he chooses happiness anyway. It’s a simple statement that lands with tremendous force because Ruben is incapable of making the same choice. While the child has every reason to be bitter, he embraces life with gratitude. Ruben, burdened by old wounds, struggles to do the same. In one scene we see Ruben praying for guidance but the film subtly suggests that the answers he seeks might have arrived long before his journey ends – in the form of the boy walking beside him.
Guiding the Performances
St. Preux’s direction displays remarkable patience and confidence. By alternating between polished digital cinematography and handheld camcorder footage, the film creates a striking contrast between memory and reality, observation and candid participation. The result is a travelogue that captures both Haiti’s beauty and its hardships without reducing either to cliché. We know poverty and corruption sends young boys to the streets, but the film avoids the political and human fall-out of such greed. Instead, St. Preux chooses to illuminate the human condition and how we all seek companionship, especially when we are at our lowest.
Cinematographer Dawit Adera complements this approach with long, lingering close-ups that reveal the emotional burden Ruben carries. These intimate shots communicate the depression, shame and unresolved trauma that drove him to leave Haiti in search of a new life abroad. Yet his return home brings its own reckoning. Through Adera’s camera and Stevenson’s restrained performance, the film crafts a heartbreaking portrait of a son seeking forgiveness.
The camera studies every detail of Ruben’s face – the long lashes, the stillness of his expression, the emotions simmering beneath the surface. Even when his features remain unchanged, the audience can feel the resentment and grief trapped behind his eyes. Haunted by fragmented memories, the guilt of abandoning his family, traps Ruben between the past he fled and the future he hopes to find.
Buy Your Ticket and Take the Journey
The Tropic Sun and His Eyes is an example of independent, low-budget filmmaking at its best, relying on collaboration with local artists and residents to create a rich patchwork of both the country itself and the people who inhabit it. With the majority of the crew drawn from the local community, St. Preux crafts a film that feels deeply authentic and intimately connected to Haiti. The result is a gentle, thoughtful film that rewards the viewer’s patience. It avoids melodrama in favor of quiet emotional revelations, allowing its themes of forgiveness, fatherhood and healing to emerge naturally through both character and landscape. The relationship between Ruben and the street kid is unforgettable, transforming what could have been a simple story of reconciliation into something far more profound. The boy gives Ruben something his search for his father never could – the freedom to be happy again.For viewers who appreciate contemplative cinema, emotionally rich character studies and stories about human connection, The Tropic Sun and His Eyes is well worth seeking out. If the beauty of the island doesn’t take your breath away, the silent struggle Ruben overcomes in the end will.