cinemas of the south

North African Cinema: Tendencies and Perspectives
By Mohammed Bakrim

The North African cinema adopts the original configuration of the Maghreb ("Land of the setting Sun" according to Arabic etymology). If this definition invokes five countries in the political sense (Mauritania, Morocco, Algeria, Tunisia, and Libya), then in the sense of cinema we really only find a group of three (Morocco, Algeria, and Tunisia). These are three countries which, since their independence, have had a relationship with cinema marked by breaks and continuity. Since the sixties and seventies, like a swing, each of these three countries has occupied the position of leader in its turn. If global opinion says today that Algerian cinema is making a comeback (four or five feature films each year for the past several years) after a difficult period, that Tunisian cinema is holding its own (Five or six films per year), and that Moroccan cinema is seeing a great flowering (twelve to fourteen films per year), then this is the result of a real game of alternation.

Morocco, which until recently was the poor relative of North African cinema, finds itself described by its neighbours as a real emerging cinematographic power, whose workings, particularly as far as support and assistance for cinema are concerned, is being studied and put forth as a model. The French film critic Michel Serceau wrote the following about this in issue 11 of the magazine CinémAction, dedicated to North African cinema: "Of the three countries of North Africa, Morocco is actually the one producing the most. New talent is blooming there. In view of what was happening twenty or even ten years ago, the situation has been reversed." This is an unprecedented turning point. Film enthusiasts remember that North African cinema in the 60's and 70's was primarily an Algerian affair. Algiers, with its dynamic Cinémathèque, its national production that worked marvellously, was like the Mecca of third-world cinema, i.e., of the all the new cinema, which sought to impose a new vision and a new manner of carrying it out. A week of Algerian cinema organised in Rabat at the beginning of the 70's did more than seduce. The Charcoal Maker (El Faham, 1973) by Bouaâmari was a veritable revelation for young Moroccan moviegoers. It was the concretisation of this alternative cinema, which reached its highpoint with the Palme d'Or awarded to Mohamed Lakhdar Hamina in 1975 for his Chronicle of the Years of Fire (Chroniques des annés de braise). Cinema supported by the public sector, but in fact by a bureaucracy, ended up revealing its limitations and announcing its failure, following the example of the system that saw its birth. It was thus up to Tunisian cinema to take the baton for most of the 80's until the beginning of the 90's. Admiring voices made themselves heard in Morocco, obsessed with the success of this cinema, especially in the international arena. Halafouine was a big hit in Casablanca. Nouri Bouzid thrilled young participants of the Festival of African Cinema of Khouribga where his film Sabots d'or took the top prize. In a word, we swore only by Tunisia, but not for long.

Mektoub (1997)

In October of 2000, during the Journées Cinématographiques in Carthage and at round tables organised on its fringes, many Tunisian professionals gushed with praise regarding Moroccan cinema, praising its system of assistance in particular. In the meantime, and after the international success amassed by Tunisian cinema, Moroccan cinema had succeeded at a double challenge-to maintain a regular rhythm (if not growth in terms of shoots and production) and moreover to manage to conquer its own public for the first time. The 90s were marked primarily by a regular progression of production and especially by the coming together of Moroccan cinema and its public. Two films were to open this path to success: a socio-psychological drama by Abdelkader Lagtaâ that shatters an urban family, Un Amour à Casablanca (1991) and a comedy of manners Looking for my Wife's Husband (A la recherche du mari de ma femme, 1993) by Mohamed Abderahmane Tazi.

Over the decade, fifty films would be produced, with a record of ten produced in 1999. The growing interest in cinema would be confirmed by the films of Jilali Ferhati, particularly The Beach of Lost Children (La plage des enfants perdus, 1991) and the massive influx of a new generation of filmmakers who, having shone brightly in short films, signalled the emergence of a new cinematographic wave with a real cultural and aesthetic project. It was Nabil Ayouch who initiated this "new wave" with his first feature film Mektoub (1997), and especially Ali Zoua: Prince of the Streets (Ali Zaoua, prince de la rue, 1999) which set a new box office record nationally and was a huge international success. Another young filmmaker, Faouzi Bensaïdi, whose first short work The Cliff (La falaise, 1998) created a sensation, gathering prizes at all the festivals, would soon join him. His promise was confirmed by his first feature film A Thousand Months (Mille Mois, 2003), shown at Cannes and awarded the Premier Regard Award in 2003. These two filmmakers find themselves at the heart of a dynamic that is found everywhere in cinema today. In terms of production, the rhythm would be maintained and even accelerated.

Between 2003 and 2004, more than forty films were produced, thus maintaining an average of ten films per year. This was an entirely new situation - Morocco was the first Arab and African country (besides South Africa) to see such a rate of production. Egyptian leadership has been put in question for the first time. This is a new historical order which has signalled a greater visibility for Moroccan cinema in Egypt since many Moroccan films are arriving at the top of the box office: Elle est diabétique, hypertendue et refuse de crever (2000), a comedy by Hakim Noury, Casablanca by Night (2003), a social chronicle by Mostafa Derkaoui, and The Bandits (2003), a comedy by Saïd Naciri. International visibility is also increasing because these films are being seen more and more at international showings. In 2003, In Casablanca the Angels do not Fly (A Casablanca les anges ne volent pas) won the Tanit d'Or of the Carthage Film festival (Tunisia), one of the most prestigious African festivals. The Sleeping Child (L'enfant endormi, 2004) by Yasmine Kessari won more than thirty prizes in 2005. Tarfaya (2005) by Daoud Oulad Sayed won the Grand Award of the International Independent Film festival in Brussels (Festival international du film indépendant de Bruxelles) and The Broken Wings (Les ailes brisées) by Majid Rchich, a melodrama about missing children won the Award for best Arab film at the International Film Festival of Damascus, Syria.

A Thousand Months (Mille Mois, 2003)

The success of Moroccan cinema is perceived by numerous North African observers, particularly Tunisian, as the result of two decisive factors: first, the existence of public sector willingness to promote cinema, e.g. the national film funds (Fonds d'aide à la production cinématographique nationale) and secondly, thematic content firmly rooted in the Moroccan viewers' line of sight that I would qualify as a "scenario of proximity". More generally, one could say that it is a cinema that is also characterised by diversity on several levels. In terms of generations, for example, we have pioneers who continue to make films (Ferhati, Lagtaâ, Tazi, Noury.), but also numerous young people from the Moroccan diaspora (France, Belgium, the US): Ismail Farraoukhi, Hassan Lagzouli, Yasmine Kessari, Hakim Belabbès, Leila Marakchi. It is the latter that are breathing new life into a cinema doped up on public aid for production, which is voluntarist and persevering. It is also a cinema with diverse thematics, even if certain recurring subjects are in fashion for a certain length of time. For example, over the past two years, Moroccan cinema reinforces the task of memory which is very present in the social fabric in putting out films about what is conventionally called the 'lead years', that is years marked by political repression. Films like La chambre noire by Hassan Benjelloun, Jawhara by Saad Chraïbi, and Mémoire en détention by Jilali Ferhati broach this dimension of the collective imagination of Moroccan society head on. On this topic, and at the risk of forcing the issue, one could say that Algerian cinema has also been a fundamental influence in the dominant dramatic impulse that is historical thematics seen through the figure of a national hero. Cinema was answering an expectation, a need for the re-appropriation of memory risking to sublimate it through fictional narratives that play on Manichaeism and neutralise any historicist vision of history. The theme of the situation of peasants, along with their glorification, would be broadly addressed, as in The Charcoal Maker by Mohamed Bouamari in 1972, a film that paints a sombre picture of the peasant condition. Noua (1973) by Abdellaziz Tolbi and The Nomads (Les Nomades, 1975) by Sid Ali Mazif are emblematic of the willingness of filmmakers to anchor themselves in original territory. Thus the 70's are seen as the Golden Age of Algerian cinema.

In their search for room to manoeuvre and looking to open up new horizons, some filmmakers film in French with European actors and at the end of the 80's, productions take on more universal directions. The end of the 90's is marked by a great lassitude and disarray, which is expressed in films in an ironic and cynical manner. With Hey Cousin! (Salut Cousin!, 1996), Merzak Allouache delivers a bitter comedy about the loss of reference points of the younger generation and Mohamed Chouikh chooses to present a parable of the disillusionment of the generation of independence in The Ark of the Desert (L'Arche du desert, 1997). His amnesiac hero is a metaphor for the loss of reference points, which marked the whole epoch. This period also sees three films made in the Amazig language: The Forgotten Hill (La Colline oubliée, 1997) by Abderrahmane Bouguermouh, The Mountain of Baya (La Montagne de Baya, 1997) by Azzedine Meddour and Machano (Machaho, 1996) by Belkacem Hadjadj, which, beyond their themes, give back to Algeria its Amazig dimension (Berber, as it is en vogue to say, although inadequate), quite unusual in these countries.

For several years now, and with the dynamic unleashed by the preparation for the Year of Algeria in France, Algerian "internal" cinema, as opposed to that of the diaspora, has been rediscovering its rights. Algerian cinema had reached bottom on all levels of activity - zero production, zero theatres, and zero distribution. Its comeback, starting, in 2003 relied again upon that which had been the strength of Algerian cinema, i.e., engaging historical themes. This time it was the black years of terrorism that inspired the writing of screenplays. A dramatic figure stands out, that of the woman, a double victim of political violence and sexual aggression. Rachida, the heroine of the eponymous film by Yamina Chouikh (2002) is emblematic of what we find recurring, albeit with contextual variations, in two other films of the same ilk. The Suspects (Les suspects, 2004) by Kamel Dahane, in which a young psychiatrist, Samia, is confronted by traumas arising from the inherent violence of social relations well before the integrationist violence of the 90's. The other film is The Beacon (El Manara, 2005) by Belkacem Hadjaj, which describes the frustrating loves of three young Algerians from the tragic events of 1988 until they are crushed by the radical and fanatical violence.

The Sleeping Child (L'enfant endormi, 2004)

For its part, Tunisia sees the development of an intimate cinema supported by the investigation of the question of identity and relation with the other. Relations are seen across all manifestations of desire. The Tunisian critic and filmmaker Férid Boughédir remarks: "Unlike our North African neighbours, who for various reasons were tempted by the 'epic' vein or the "populist" vein in different periods, these two categories are practically absent from Tunisian films, in which art films dominate in an almost individualistic manner."

This aesthetic of intimacy and desire is developed through various recurring dichotomies (man/woman, here/there, self/other), offering various themes such as the celebration of female nudity (Halfaouine: Child of the Terraces (Asfour Stah, 1990), homosexuality (L'Homme de cendres), political repression (Les Sabots en or), sexual tourism (Bezness, 1992), and women's rights to sexual fulfilment (Fatma, 2002) and Red Satin (Satin rouge, 2002). Another film emerges from the pack and establishes a new film space, which stands in sharp contrast to the stereotyped figures of the dominant cinema and revisits a deprived suburb of the capital city Tunis. This film is Essayeda (1996) by Mohamed Zrane. One of the greatest popular successes of Tunisian cinema, the film struck audiences with its liberal tone and the showing of a space hitherto unseen. Zrane returns to the centre of Tunis, his usual stomping ground, as a spatial referent of an impossible love story about a florist in The Prince (Le Prince, 2004), a great critical success which had only lukewarm public reception. The Villa (La Villa, 2004) by Mohamed Damak, on the other hand enjoyed great popularity in playing on the dichotomies of parents/children, rich/poor, boys/girls.

If North African cinema continues to be confronted by structural challenges (falling numbers of theatres, digital filming, public indifference), it is nevertheless profoundly marked by a true dynamic. It is a cinema that is emerging from a period in which films carried the stigmata of the conditions of their production and is entering a promising phase that confirms the passion for short films and the emergence of new generations of directors.

Mohammed Bakrim
© FIPRESCI 2006

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