We were not disappointed and can see why it featured in many people's Top Ten Films of 2013.
The film was shot on location in Saudi Arabia and is the country's first film to be written and directed by a woman, Haifaa Al-Mansour. We suspect it may be Saudi's first feature film as neither of us can recall another.
It features the eponymous 10-year old Wadjda (beautifully played by 12-year-old Waad Mohammed) and her quest to express herself within the strict boundaries of conservative Saudi life. Her tatty Converse trainers that protrude from beneath the all encompassing abaya are a wonderful metaphor for the film itself and give a taste of her spunky spirit.
In fact the film is deceptively rich in metaphor and the bike which takes on the focus of the film is perhaps the most obvious and poignant. Wadjda sees her best friend Abdullah riding a bike and decides she wants to too. In a country where women are forbidden from driving, it still comes as a surprise that a girl riding a bike is to be frowned upon. (Her mum worries it may ruin her virginity). Without her parents support she embarks on several ingenious and increasingly entrepreneurial ways to raise the funds she needs. She comes from a lower-middle class indigenous family in Saudi, a demographic that is rarely portrayed, in contrast to the seemingly ubiquitous stereotype of the uber-wealthy Gulf Arab.
The film doesn't shy away from addressing religious themes which in such a society seem inevitably linked to sexuality: mention is made of periods as some girls are reminded not to touch the Qur'an during a religious studies class; Wadjda's mother ostensibly works hard to appear beautiful to her husband to minimise the chances of him taking a second wife; a fellow student's reputation is ruined after riding in a car with a man who isn't a relative. There is a brief slightly jarring scene wherein a construction worker calls down to Wajdja and asks her to let him "touch those little apples".
There is no violence in the film although Wadjda does fall off her bike once. The language is very clean with just the one use of "damn" in the subtitles. Her mother smokes (progressively more) during the film.
As Common Sense Media puts it:
Wadjda is ... a triumph of nuance and substance. Enterprising young Wadjda -- with her love of Western radio, quirky Chucks with purple laces, and singular decision to beat Abdullah in a bike race -- is a study in everyday female empowerment. When her mother informs her that her father's family tree can never include her, because it only features men's names, she boldly writes "Wadjda" on a sticky note and tacks it on to the painting. The moment is both touching and a loaded statement -- her father's "glorious" legacy will never claim her.
Wadjda knows what her future holds. She must marry (one of her more pious classmates is already a wife) and bear her husband's sons -- something that her own beautiful mother was unable to do. But that's another story, because Wadjda is about independent thinking, overcoming odds, and unconditional friendship.
Food for thought:
- What was your experience with the subtitles?
- What is it like growing up in Saudi? Would it be different if you were of the opposite gender?
- Have you ever faced any challenges like Wadjda?
Review at The Guardian (UK)
BBFC Insight (UK)
Pleased to see the inception (pardon the pun) of another family-oriented film blog, they are all too rare in this age. This commentary was an excellent insight into the subjects explored by the film, written with a conscious bearing on its family-suitability. I love the inline links that provide an expansion on the information they wrap around. A great pleasure to read!
ReplyDelete