EYLEM ATAKAV
@eylematakav
The first ever feature film
entirely shot in Saudi Arabia, where there are no cinemas and public spaces are
segregated according to gender, is written and directed by a woman, Haifaa Al
Mansour. The
film tells the story of Wadjda, a rebellious 10-year-old girl, who enters a
Koran-reading competition at her madrasa, planning to use the prize
money to buy herself a bicycle, in a culture where women are not encouraged to
cycle.
There is a lot
to be praised about Wadjda. Indeed, there are so many powerful scenes in
the film which delicately tell us about womanhood and women’s place in a
culture dominated by religious values and rules. The camera travels between a
house, a school, a playground, a little street with a bicycle shop, and a roof
top. Wadjda, living within this limited and conservative space, is a witty,
clever and, at the same time, powerful character whose imagination and ideas
are limitless. It offers an interesting parallel with Al Mansour, who had to film
Wadjda’s limitless world from within the very limited space of a little van. Indeed, she
directed the exterior scenes in Riyadh from inside a van, watching the actors
on monitors and communicating via walkie-talkie. As she explains in an
interview, ‘Conservatives may have interrupted filming had they seen me or called
the police. We had sandstorms to deal with, getting access to locations – we
didn’t need to worry about people protesting, too,’ she laughs. ‘I didn’t want
to go and fight with people, I’m not an activist, I’m an artist.’
The references to polygamy, loss of
virginity, child brides, the implications of veiling, and religion’s place in
education make the film thought-provoking. One scene in particular, however, is
remarkable: Wadjda is secretly learning to cycle in the rooftop of her house,
but she panics as her mother approaches, falls off the bicycle and hurts her
knee. As she cries out ‘I’m bleeding!’ the mother covers her face with shame
mistakenly thinking her daughter is bleeding for having ridden the bike and
lost her virginity. The scene is astutely narrated, skillfully performed and brilliantly
filmed.
In an
interview with the BBC, Al Mansour discusses the importance of introducing
change in Saudi society while acknowledging that ‘change is a painful process’,
and that she wanted ‘to allow people to embrace change in their own pace’ as
‘change has to come from heart.’ Both Al Mansour and Wadjda present us with an idea
of change around the perceptions of womanhood and women’s place in Saudi
society that is not imposed upon people but one that is heartfelt and embraced
by them. Change is embedded in the film in the image of a bicycle. The bicycle represents
independence, mobility, freedom and imagination. At the end of the film when we
see Wadjda cycling to the borders of the town and stopping by the motorway, we
are assured that there are new worlds and possibilities she is now able to
explore.
Al Mansour
engages in self-expression through a subtle yet powerful focus on the social, the
cultural and the political through the story of a little girl who dares. It is
not surprising to learn that Wadjda’s character is very similar to Al Mansour’s
in real life. Indeed, she states on the film’s website that she comes from a
small town in Saudi Arabia ‘where there are many girls like Wadjda who have big
dreams, strong characters and so much potential. These girls can, and will
reshape and redefine our nation.’ This message of female solidarity also comes
across in an interview with Al Mansour in which she emphasises that "women
have to stick together and believe in themselves and push towards what makes
them happy. We just need to push a little bit harder against tradition. We need
to do things and make things and tell the stories that we want to tell. And I
think the world is ready to listen." What Wadjda tells us is that there are no limits to how much women can
push for change even from the limited space of a little town or while directing
a film from within a little van.
