A delightful film - from a land with no cinemas

Wadjda

Image by Wadjda

Daniel Nelson

Wadjda is stifling and a breath of fresh air.

Stifling because it’s about women in Saudi Arabia: a breath of fresh air because it’s the first full-length feature directed by a Saudi woman – hardly surprising in a land without cinemas and where films are banned.

It’s also comparatively rare in the sense that few directors are forced, as was Haifaa Al Mansour, to film from inside a van, communicating with the part-German crew by walkie-talkie to avoid the disapproval of a woman mingling with men on set.

In addition, it’s about a girl wanting a bike, which is itself a challenge to conservative Muslims (who raise the objections that were voiced in this country not so long ago – that, for example, cycling will prevent you having children later in life).

It is, in fact, a delight. It’s a simply told tale of a 10-year-old girl’s longing for a bike on which to race a neighbouring boy and her attempts to raise the money. Her money-making schemes start small and culminate in studying hard for a Koranic-reading competition.

Around her, bigger struggles are played out. Her glamorous mother is worried about her husband taking a second wife. The mother’s bolshie driver refuses to come to work, until Wadjda’s friend comes up with an inspired threat about an influential uncle’s possible intervention over the recalcitrant chauffeur’s papers.  Two girls at school are threatened with expulsion for committing a sin. A male “thief” is rumoured to have entered the house of the strict headmistress.

It’s all done with a wonderfully light touch. Even the contortions in conduct forced on women and girls in the name of propriety and religion, though hard to take, are not laboured. This is entertainment, not an ideological battering, which surely stems from the director’s affection for her country.

“I come from a small town in Saudi Arabia where there are many girls like Wadjda who have bid dreams, strong characters and so much potential,” she has said. “These girls can, and will, reshape and redefine our nation…

“I hope the film offers a unique insight into my own country and speaks of universal themes of hope and perseverance that people of all culture can relate to.”

I read those inspirational words after watching the final improbable scene, complete with soaring music, and they made me feel  guilty of pessimism for thinking that the brave new world that is promised as Wadjda rides to the end of the street would need not just more Wadjdas but some brave new men to help bring it into existence.