Wadjda (2013): Written and
directed by Haifaa al-Monsour. Starring: Waad Mohammed, Reem Abdullah,
and Abdulrahman al-Guhani. Running Time: 98 Minutes
Rating: 3.5/4
As I mull over Wadjda, I’m having a difficult time of it separating my thoughts on
the film itself from my excitement over the importance of its mere existence;
this is the first ever movie to be filmed entirely in Saudi Arabia AND to be helmed by a woman. It’s
already been listed as a potential nominee for the Best Foreign Language Oscar
at next year’s Academy Awards, and has been garnering solid acclaim at film
festivals, currently holding a 98% rating on Rotten Tomatoes. Yes, it’s a small, small step compared to the
long list of oppressive crimes committed by the stifling climate of Saudi
royalism, but even piecemeal progress is better than no progress. So the fact that Wadjda is a cultural milestone is hard to dispute. The question then is, does the film itself
deserve such lavish praise, and is it good enough to meet the expectations that
many people will have after just hearing about it? In my opinion, for the most part, yes, it
absolutely does.
Wadjda is a young girl whose life
is, in many ways, fairly typical- she goes to school, gets in trouble with the
principal, both fights with and helps her mother, and teases a boy named
Abdullah who lives nearby. Happy in her
childhood, she is smart and sharp-tongued, but lacks a goal until the day
Adbullah shows off his new bicycle to her, and her dream suddenly crystalizes
before her- she, too, wants a bike so that she and Abdullah can race (in a bit
of topical poignancy, Saudi Arabia only just changed its laws barring women
from riding bikes).
Even though what she wants is no
longer technically illegal, girls riding bikes still goes against the social
and moral norms of both her mother and her school’s strict, no-nonsense
principal; when she first voices her desire out loud, her mother claims that
girls lose the ability to bear children when they ride bikes. Wadjda needs to find a way to overcome (or at
least circumvent) said prejudices just as much as she has to overcome her dream
bike’s exorbitant price tag. While
saving money from her illicit cloth-bracelet business at school, she also dedicates
herself to Qu’ranic studies so that she can win the 1000 Riyal prize money at
the school competition. Here, she runs
into more problems, as she’s never taken her studies seriously, and has never
practiced singing the holy verses before.
It’s the little details that make Wadjda such a moving and enjoyable film
to watch. A girl cutting against the
grain trying to fulfill a simple dream in a society legendary for its
repressive policies towards women is the kind of story many would simply play
for big, broad, social commentary. Many
writers or directors would portray Wadjda as a paragon of innocent virtue,
taking a stand against the unbending ignorance of her elders. At least, that’s the movie a great many
Western directors would have made. And perhaps
it’s precisely because of the fact that this is not a Western movie that it
never goes that route. It is a movie
that notes, and never ignores, many of the aspects of Saudi society that
outsiders are likely to find distasteful, but it never obsesses over them- for the characters, this is simply how life is.
However, when they do pop up, they
are always handled with a mature understanding- as with every society, once you
scratch below the stereotypical surface, you find that life there is just as
nuanced, varied, complex, and subtle as it is anywhere else in the world. Wadjda and her mother are disappointed and
hurt by the father’s constant absences and the threat of him leaving them for a
new wife, but he’s never vilified by either them or the film; the last time we
see him, he smiles at Wadjda and tells her how proud he is of her. The principal, a character commonly stuffed
into caricature suits in movies involving children, is also much more
three-dimensional than one might expect.
She’s clearly very conservative, and threatens Wadjda with expulsion
when her bracelet trade is uncovered, but she also willingly complements her
when she sees how hard she studies for the competition (we also get a hint that
she might not be so uptight privately as she is publicly).
The fact that Wadjda never plays itself up as something bigger than it is could
be more of a weakness than a strength for plenty of people. Because it never harps on the various social
conflicts and norms that the characters experience, there’s no over-arching
statement made by either the movie itself or its individual characters about
gender roles or women’s rights, and that may disappoint some. It’s a quiet movie that never goes for big
emotions (although Wadjda and her mother do have some very sweet scenes
together), and while nearly every aspect of the movie is well-made, that could
somewhat mute the emotional impact it has on a number of viewers. The movie is in Arabic, but because there
were no OV showings where I was I had to see it in German, and in that version,
the dialogue strays into being too expositional at times. That could be a matter of some subtleties
being lost in translation, but until I am able to see the movie in Arabic, I
can’t say for sure. Sadly, that’s always
a factor when reviewing movies in another language- unless you speak said
language yourself, you can’t be 100% certain you aren’t missing bits here and
there.
The glue that holds everything
together though is the main character.
Waad gives as good a performance as I’ve ever seen from a
child actor, on par with Hailee Steinfeld in True Grit and the Khaki Scout gang from Moonrise Kingdom.
She’s cheerful, energetic, and witty, but also petty, angry, sad, and
disobedient, like any other child. Given
the bevy of terrible acting and terrible writing that tends to perforate films
with children as main characters, it’s always a relief to see one done
right. It’s also one reason that the
movie doesn’t need any big, emotional moments other than those connected to the
main story. We are simply presented with
images of several intertwined lives, in all their happiness, sadness, and
complexity. Wadjda is a fun, funny, and occasionally very touching story of a
girl trying to bring a small dream to fruition.
If you have the chance to see this one in theaters, definitely check it
out.
-Noah Franc
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