October 4, 2023 | Rome, Italy


By |2018-03-21T18:56:28+01:00August 10th, 2013|Reviews|


Date: 2013

Director: Haifaa al-Mansour

Starring: Reem Abdullah, Waad Mohammed, Abdullrahman Algohani, Sultan Al Assaf, Ahd Kamel, Ibrahim Al Mozael, Noof Saad, Rafa Al Sanea, Alanoud Sajini


audi Arabian culture is a black hole in Western society — hidden behind the curtains of mainstream media and cautious taboo. Art can create understanding by throwing a viewer into another’s world they don’t feel comfortable in and “Wadjda,” the first feature film shot entirely in Saudi Arabia, gives a fascinating insight into a cultural unknown. But while female director, Haifaa Al-Mansour, does take on Saudi society’s gender inequality, this is strictly tongue-in-cheek.

Wadjda (Waad Mohammed), a forthright 10-year-old girl living in the suburbs of Riyadh, enters a Koran recitation competition to raise money for a bike. This simple childhood goal is marred by the theocratic judgment of her peers as Wadjda tries to navigate a milieu that deems her rock music evil, Converse shoes inappropriate and ambition unladylike. She seeks solace in her relationship with little Abdullah (Abdullrahman Al Gohani) who seems to be only male figure that sees gender as no obstacle.

The young pair shows the triumph of personal spirit over an oppressive ideology. An ideology Al-Mansour lampoons with melting charm and fine comical discipline. Wadjda’s mother fears the girl will lose her virginity to a bike saddle, she pins her name to an all-male family tree and huffs at the thought that men can’t see her without her veil. There’s a subtle irreverence here that’s purified by the child protagonist and practiced with good taste by a skilled writer.

Al-Mansour takes a minimalist stance — allowing the story to wash over you and, in doing so, open up interpretation. This direction works initially but it also holds this picture back from greatness. We do get a satisfying climax but the film’s formless structure craved a deeper moral imprint from the writer to really pull the heartstrings. In other words, there could have been more punch under the folly.

We couldn’t expect perfection but this is still a promising dawn of Arabic cinema. The squeaky clean sentimentality masks a message crying to break out. Maybe we’ll all of it next time.

About the Author:

Alexander Penn is a born and bred Londoner currently finishing up his Newspaper Journalism Masters at City University. Spending his student days with East London Italians, he's become at one with their culture and fell in love with Rome when he first visited three years ago. He's a long-time lover of film, particularly the work of Sergio Leone, Federico Fellini and Giuseppe Tornatore. Alexander's had DVD reviews published in national UK paper, The Sun, and continues to ply his passion in his part-time job at an independent cinema.