Before I started this project there were certain countries whose cinema culture I knew absolutely nothing about. While one might reasonably assume that such countries would be difficult to complete, this wasn’t always the case. In regards to Tunisia, Férid Boughedir’s 1990 feature was one of the first films that I considered as a potential selection. I didn’t have any real difficulty confirming the selection criteria for the film, and since a DVD copy was distributed to the US, finding a copy in a local library was relatively painless. When everything unexpectedly falls into place this project could almost be a fun thing to endeavor.
The film was picked up for theatrical distribution in the US by International Film Circuit who initially put it out on the festival circuit and from what I could tell may have also given it a limited commercial release in 1995. A decade later Kino on Video released the film on DVD in the US, and it’s this release that I was able to access. According to worldcat.org one copy was being held within 20 miles of where I live and it was at a library for a community college. Within 40 miles I would have 6 libraries to choose from, with some of these being public institutions. Overall there are roughly 80 holdings in the US total. Copies of the Kino On Video release can also be purchased online or rented out from Facets. The streaming options aren’t bad either, with the film being currently available on Vudu, Amazon Prime and Kanopy among other possible options.
While this film offered an interesting and intimate glimpse into Tunisian life, it didn’t offer much in the way of a fascinating or engaging narrative. Early on it quickly became obvious how much of a character driven feature this film would be. Scenes would appear virtually at random without much narrative progression to speak of. The lone plot as it were was one of the most basic and rudimentary plots that you could ever encounter in a film. It essentially consisted of three mischievous boys who all desired to see the ‘female form’ prodded by Noura’s discovery of his father’s illicit stash of pornographic magazines. The film though correctly focused much of its attention on Noura who had the best chance of achieving this objective given that he was still considered young enough to bathe with the women in the local Turkish baths. This made Noura a somewhat interesting character in that he was mature enough to have adult desires and yet was stuck between the world of adulthood and childhood.
That being said, I still find the whole sexual awakening trope somewhat overused to the point where it seemed rather tedious and banal. To see this kind of story occur in a country that I rarely see when watching films did make Asfour Stah somewhat intriguing, but even then the film is staged in such a personal manner that the story ultimately took precedence over its location. And I have conflicting thoughts about the story. In focusing on the more innate, inescapable aspects of human nature it achieved a certain ubiquity that allowed it to be appreciated on a global scale, and I think such ubiquity is probably necessary to obtain cultural transcendence. But I don’t watch foreign cinema just to be reminded of the basic elements of humanity that bind us together. I’m also interested in the myriad, diverse forms in which human existence could materialize. And this film did little to sate my curiosity for the latter. While the film could be seen as mildly exotic to foreign viewers it certainly wasn’t unapproachable, nor impenetrable.
In addition to this the film embraced a rather modest subdued tone to the point where it offered practically nothing in regards to comedy, drama, tension, or even suspense. The film also never seemed to fully commit to any of its potential subplots. There was nothing to pull one into the film apart from perhaps its sex appeal and even here I would describe the film as being tender and sensual without being truly erotic. Much like other films that I’ve watched in this series intimate relations were only subtly hinted at. Contemporary sensibilities might also find some aspects of the narrative troubling and downright creepy, especially Noura’s nocturnal approaches to Leila while she slept.
The pacing of the film was also problematic given its tendency to be slow and methodical. Some shots would linger on the screen long enough to overstay their welcome. Although during the bathhouse scenes one might argue that the camerawork should reflect the carnal interests of its protagonist, which it did for the most part. But then there are shots like that of Noura sitting reflectively on a rooftop that could have been cut sooner to give the film a more brisk pace. In spite of this complaint I still regarded the overall cinematography as excellent. There was great skill shown with the staging, framing and mise-en-scène of the shots. The use of motion was executed gracefully and I liked the way the filmmakers mixed intimate shots with deeper, more distant perspectives.
But then again the overall style was not particularly flashy or extravagant apart from the use of mythical and psychological elements. And such devices were not particularly engaging which I think served as a microcosm for the film as a whole. It was an expertly crafted film in the technical sense, but one that often suffered from being too conventional. For instance a dream sequence of Noura being tormented by the circumcision doctor felt like a ploy that was lifted straight from a textbook manual on filmmaking. The film lacked the creativity and originality that I often crave from films. The only thing that might make the film stand out was the forthright and brazen manner in which the circumcision scene was shot. But even then such audacity was muted by the film’s overwhelmingly austere ambiance.
The end result was a film that only held a modest amount of charm and most of that came from the acting performances. Among such performances was a nebulous mixture of both good and bad. On one end you had a conversation between a barber and a police detective that gave off the impression of two men reciting lines strictly from memory. There was no hint of any passion or energy in how either delivered their dialogue. And yet on the other end of the spectrum was Aziza Boulabiar who injected a great deal of personality and spirit into the minor role of Zakia, so much so that she effortlessly stood out in the scene where the women teased Noura. The latter was the type of performance that I find captivating.
As for the main characters, I don’t know what to say about Selim Boughedir’s performance as Noura, since he really didn’t do that much as an actor. Part of the problem here was the film’s over reliance on staging intimate shots of Boughedir consistently giving the same facial expression, which was usually a delightfully cheerful, innocent, albeit naive visage. While Boughedir did play the role with some emotional depth and credibly portrayed a child, he simply didn’t leave much of an impression. At times I could regard his performance as a bit bland. In fact near the end of the film during a scene with Carolyn Chelby (who played Leila) it dawned on me how little dialogue Boughedir had to deliver in the film. In many of Boughedir’s scenes it was the adult actors who achieved the greater presence and who I got more enjoyment out of.
Rabiah Ben Abdullah did solid work as Noura’s mother in a remarkably nuanced performance where she credibly portrayed both her affection and disappointment towards Noura. Mustapha Adouani as Noura’s father mostly conformed to the role of a stern, strict disciplinarian parent. The fact that Adouani’s character would hypocritically engage in some shady behavior of his own allowed Adouani to play the role with some depth. It’s interesting to note the sharp contrast in tone in how he gently chatted up a female patron of his embroidery shop and how he spoke authoritatively to Noura.
Elsewhere Mohamed Driss effectively lightened the mood of the film by playing a drunken merchant in an undeniably warm, amicable manner. The way that Driss played the role suggested that Salim was perhaps living in a suspended state of adolescence, but nonetheless I liked the ebullient personality that Driss injected into the film. Another great personality among the cast was Latifa played by Hélène Catzaras, who performed her role with even more delightful confidence and panache than Driss. I especially liked the fun, playful way that Catzaras sung back at Driss during the ceremony. It was one of the better moments in the film. For me Driss and Catazaras were the real stars of this film and I’m happy that they were given some decent screen time.
As for the other performers Fatma Ben Saïdane as Salouha was decent but not particularly noteworthy. Granted she performed well with her frantic screaming in the scene where Salouha was treated for her madness. Even here though I thought she was upstaged by the high-pitched manic shrieking from the bathhouse employee (played by Zahira Ben Ammar) who managed to be memorable in an odd, mesmerizing way. Ultimately though such eccentric flair was in short supply, and the film too often felt a little flat. This was the type of film that offered hints of a quality film, but which ultimately fell short of its potential.