Much has been documented about the great traumas that attend migration towards the West in search of the sometimes-mythic ‘better life’. With great pathos, Geology of Separation explores another route, constructing a narrative thread by tracing the mundane quotidian experience of Abderhaman, a migrant who fled violence in Libya and is awaiting permission to remain in Italy.　　This period of limbo is plagued with tiresome, demoralising indignities that arise from casual racism raining down from various figures of authority. For much of the film the camera gazes lengthily, languorously, peacefully at landscapes, skyscapes and topographies; snow-covered mountainsides, cow-dotted pastures, cascades and pastoral lanes are all captured in striking black and white. Yet this is no holiday brochure, for the stark beauty of the images is pierced by unsettling questions that have perhaps drained them of colour: What does it mean to exist in a place where one is neither welcome nor unwelcome? How is it that such a decision rests on arbitrary boundaries, arbitrary histories, and policies that value paperwork over dignity?　　In one quietly compelling sequence, Abderhaman is asked what he is studying in the classes he attends. “Only Italian,” he responds. It is a moment that underscores both his ability to function within its society, but also his ambivalence as to whether it wishes him to advance, prosper or, indeed, remain.