If "The Source of Women" set its ambitions as high as the virtuous flag it kept brandishing, it would have been a masterpiece. This is a story about women going on a 'sex strike' to protest against their condition in what could be any North African/ Middle-Eastern country.
I guess it was an imperial opportunity for raising other issues such as polygamy, repudiation, virginity and so many other liabilities in the Muslim world when it comes to women's rights: but there's just too much going in the film and director Radu Mileihanu doesn't insert the material as smoothly as a competent director would. At the end, the story is the clothesline to hang as many issues as possible with screenplay contrivances as clothespins, to the point that every situation portrayed in the film conveniently highlights the predicament of being a woman in a Muslim traditional society. At the end, we never know if we're watching a fable, a tale or a political manifesto.
Anyway, the film is set in a village in the Atlas mountain, where women are forced to bring water from a remote fountain. In the first scene, we see them carrying heavy buckets and walking down steep and rocky descents, which creates quite a mood whiplash after that moment where they were all laughing and playing with water. Unfortunately, a pregnant woman loses her balance and falls. A stream of blood then flows over her leg, which is a very bad omen. This is a scene that could have had a better impact had the director adopted a more scholar approach (a little exposition never hurts).
Show us the women talk a little, about the pregnancy for instance, what name for the baby? A boy or a girl? The accident was dramatic but half the momentum is lost and the feeling of revolt is only postponed. For all we know when it happens, maybe the poor mother wanted to take the water. Besides, the accident is shown in parallel with a woman who's giving birth. When it gets clear that it's not just wishful imaginary juxtaposition, the question is: why was that woman excused from the water duty?
The film opens with sketchy elements meant to expose injustices that defy plausibility. And when we realize that the story isn't set at the times of Sheherazade or Ali Baba, (there are televisions and cellphones) the accident is less than acceptable. Granted women must get the water because they use it for their daily chores, but aren't there exceptions for expecting mothers? Isn't life sacred enough to protect those who carry it? It gets worse during the birth celebration when women are all cheering and ululating, visibly oblivious to what happened. Leila (Leila Bekhti) decides to poop the party and starts shouting a sad prayer to her friend who lost the baby.
Leila is immediately rebuffed by the older ones and her own mother-in-law played by Palestinian actress Hiam Abbas who seems to have been typecast as the stern and authoritarian mother-figure. The singing scene is problematic beside the fact that there are no subtitles for non-Arab speaking viewers to understand the cry of Leila. We learn that Leila had lost a baby and was deemed infertile or something as socially shaming. Now, if the village is so backward-minded that even women can't draw the line between accidental miscarriage and infertility, then I'm not sure a sex strike or anything within a two-hour format could clean up these dusty mentalities.
But Leila is convinced it would work so she seizes the opportunity of one of these rare moments of female intimacy (hammam is a good location and quite well-lit in the film) to convince her 'companions of misfortune' for a strike of love. Reactions vary, Rachida (Sabrina Ouazani) expresses her need for a male organ in quite colorful turns but the veteran, named "Old Gun" (Biyouna) loves the provocative idea and the little kick it will provide. Now, how about men? They reject what seems to be another female ruse but wait until these hormone-driven animals' patience come at the end...
Leila is ostracized by her mother-in-law and criticized by her own allies because at least she has a loving husband, and it's true that the distractingly handsome Sami (Salek Bakri), a teacher who tries to changes mentalities, makes it like Leila wouldn't have any trouble. If good men resist peer pressure, they are still powerless. Maybe that's why the writers needed some revelations about Leila's past to spice things up, weightening the tale with unnecessary subplots about her virginity. That's the film's problem,it tries to cover so many subjects it lacks a proper direction.
Ultimately, the film is less about women than Leila, as if Germinal became a character-study of Lantier. Other women seem to only exist to be compared with Leila: one with a worse husband, one with a biffer sexual appetite, who shouldn't end like her... it cared about the rebel more than the cause. And so the crusade against patriarchy is reduced to little vignettes with one key-point from each: the mother telling her religious kid that the veil isn't necessary, women telling the sheikh that the Prophet wanted equality, the point is that the film isn't much against Islam as it was against men.
And men get quite a rough deal: even Saleh is confronted to his own possessiveness, and even the local servants supposed to represent modernity and provide water supply to the village, are perhaps the worst : give them water and they'll ask for more, they need time for work not to waste it with telenovelas... There are some nuances though, Leila's father-in-law is more comprehensive, the film doesn't amplify the antagonism but it had it trimmed a few useless parts and cared about subtitles in the musical moments (some songs do contribute to the plot) it could have been much better.
Ultimately, it's less about the true situation of women than the way a European would imagine it.
I guess it was an imperial opportunity for raising other issues such as polygamy, repudiation, virginity and so many other liabilities in the Muslim world when it comes to women's rights: but there's just too much going in the film and director Radu Mileihanu doesn't insert the material as smoothly as a competent director would. At the end, the story is the clothesline to hang as many issues as possible with screenplay contrivances as clothespins, to the point that every situation portrayed in the film conveniently highlights the predicament of being a woman in a Muslim traditional society. At the end, we never know if we're watching a fable, a tale or a political manifesto.
Anyway, the film is set in a village in the Atlas mountain, where women are forced to bring water from a remote fountain. In the first scene, we see them carrying heavy buckets and walking down steep and rocky descents, which creates quite a mood whiplash after that moment where they were all laughing and playing with water. Unfortunately, a pregnant woman loses her balance and falls. A stream of blood then flows over her leg, which is a very bad omen. This is a scene that could have had a better impact had the director adopted a more scholar approach (a little exposition never hurts).
Show us the women talk a little, about the pregnancy for instance, what name for the baby? A boy or a girl? The accident was dramatic but half the momentum is lost and the feeling of revolt is only postponed. For all we know when it happens, maybe the poor mother wanted to take the water. Besides, the accident is shown in parallel with a woman who's giving birth. When it gets clear that it's not just wishful imaginary juxtaposition, the question is: why was that woman excused from the water duty?
The film opens with sketchy elements meant to expose injustices that defy plausibility. And when we realize that the story isn't set at the times of Sheherazade or Ali Baba, (there are televisions and cellphones) the accident is less than acceptable. Granted women must get the water because they use it for their daily chores, but aren't there exceptions for expecting mothers? Isn't life sacred enough to protect those who carry it? It gets worse during the birth celebration when women are all cheering and ululating, visibly oblivious to what happened. Leila (Leila Bekhti) decides to poop the party and starts shouting a sad prayer to her friend who lost the baby.
Leila is immediately rebuffed by the older ones and her own mother-in-law played by Palestinian actress Hiam Abbas who seems to have been typecast as the stern and authoritarian mother-figure. The singing scene is problematic beside the fact that there are no subtitles for non-Arab speaking viewers to understand the cry of Leila. We learn that Leila had lost a baby and was deemed infertile or something as socially shaming. Now, if the village is so backward-minded that even women can't draw the line between accidental miscarriage and infertility, then I'm not sure a sex strike or anything within a two-hour format could clean up these dusty mentalities.
But Leila is convinced it would work so she seizes the opportunity of one of these rare moments of female intimacy (hammam is a good location and quite well-lit in the film) to convince her 'companions of misfortune' for a strike of love. Reactions vary, Rachida (Sabrina Ouazani) expresses her need for a male organ in quite colorful turns but the veteran, named "Old Gun" (Biyouna) loves the provocative idea and the little kick it will provide. Now, how about men? They reject what seems to be another female ruse but wait until these hormone-driven animals' patience come at the end...
Leila is ostracized by her mother-in-law and criticized by her own allies because at least she has a loving husband, and it's true that the distractingly handsome Sami (Salek Bakri), a teacher who tries to changes mentalities, makes it like Leila wouldn't have any trouble. If good men resist peer pressure, they are still powerless. Maybe that's why the writers needed some revelations about Leila's past to spice things up, weightening the tale with unnecessary subplots about her virginity. That's the film's problem,it tries to cover so many subjects it lacks a proper direction.
Ultimately, the film is less about women than Leila, as if Germinal became a character-study of Lantier. Other women seem to only exist to be compared with Leila: one with a worse husband, one with a biffer sexual appetite, who shouldn't end like her... it cared about the rebel more than the cause. And so the crusade against patriarchy is reduced to little vignettes with one key-point from each: the mother telling her religious kid that the veil isn't necessary, women telling the sheikh that the Prophet wanted equality, the point is that the film isn't much against Islam as it was against men.
And men get quite a rough deal: even Saleh is confronted to his own possessiveness, and even the local servants supposed to represent modernity and provide water supply to the village, are perhaps the worst : give them water and they'll ask for more, they need time for work not to waste it with telenovelas... There are some nuances though, Leila's father-in-law is more comprehensive, the film doesn't amplify the antagonism but it had it trimmed a few useless parts and cared about subtitles in the musical moments (some songs do contribute to the plot) it could have been much better.
Ultimately, it's less about the true situation of women than the way a European would imagine it.