On tour in Belgian schools to present his documentary When the Arabs danced (2018), Jawad Rhalib observed a climate of fear. In his country, where the Islamist radicalization of adolescents has become a major national security issue, students have shamelessly expressed misogynistic or homophobic remarks, which their teachers no longer dare to intervene against.
This is why the Belgian director of Moroccan origin imagined a scenario where a teacher dares to speak out: Amal. A free spirit. Thus, Amal (Lubna Azabal), a teacher in a secular school in Brussels, finds herself faced with the violent reactions of Muslim students when she denounces their intimidation of Mounia, a student they suspect of being a lesbian, and makes them read the subversive poet Aboû Nouwâs.
Faced with a group of radicalized teenagers under the influence of Nabil, their religion teacher, Amal and Monia become the targets of increasingly violent attacks. But Amal refuses to be censored, even if it means putting herself in danger.
“I really wanted to talk about Abu Nuwas because he represents a paradigm shift in the Muslim world,” explains Jawad Rhalib, seated at a café on the sidelines of the film’s presentation at the Quebec City Film Festival, where it was named the Jury’s Favorite. This epicurean poet from the 8the century, which notably addressed homosexuality, was taught to him at school in Morocco. “Today,” the filmmaker continues, “I am witnessing its disappearance.”
Calls for freedom
Aboû Nouwâs was a Muslim, but he advocated libertinism and the pleasure of wine. A philosophy crystallized in this famous verse, repeated in the film: “Far from the straight path I have taken without ceremony that of sin, because I prefer.” Faced with the “current rise of fundamentalism”, Jawad Rhalib, also a Muslim, updates the poet’s calls for freedom. As in When the Arabs dancedhe wants to “mark the difference between Islam and Islamism.”
The director does it again here without detour — and according to some critics, without nuance. The Manicheism of the last scenes, where the violence culminates towards a point of no return, has indeed irritated many, both in the French media and on social networks. Jawad Rhalib nevertheless defends his approach: “Current events have caught up with us. The assassination of Samuel Paty occurred after I wrote the screenplay, and attacks against teachers continue to increase in Europe.”
As for his method, he claims to have wanted to “understand the characters”. “Obviously, I support Amal’s point of view, but I also understand the school principal (Catherine Salée), who has to qualify her remarks to ease tensions. Even Nabil, I don’t judge him. He actually says a very apt sentence: “These children need to regain their dignity.” It is also to reflect nuances that I represented students who question Nabil’s teachings.”
“Like a thriller”
In any case, the film is undoubtedly powerful, thanks in part to the direction and the acting. “I wanted to shoot it like a thriller,” the filmmaker explains from the outset. From the first minutes, the furtive handheld camera and the cold lighting of the classroom accentuate the tension that gradually builds.
The camera movements and the fast pace of the editing work perfectly with the young actors’ fiery performances. For the sake of realism, Jawad Rhalib let them perform the dialogue in their own words. And several of them were given access only to their lines, in order to be as authentic as possible when reacting to their partners. “I wanted to immerse the audience in reality,” concludes the director. Without a shadow of a doubt, it is successful.
For all these reasons, Amal. A free spirit promises to resonate in Quebec, after its huge success in Belgium. Although the social climate seems less tense here than in Europe, the film remains in tune with current events on this side of the Atlantic, where the threat of radicalization persists, especially as homophobic attacks in schools continue to make headlines.