QUICK’N DIRTY: LIVE FROM THE RED SEA
Nadia (Clara Khoury from Kaouther Ben Hania’s acclaimed The Voice of Hind Rajab, released earlier this year in Venice) lives with her husband and three children in a wealthy house in Jordan, presumably a suburb of Amman. The local school suspends her eldest child Basil (Mohammad Nizar) just before his graduation from secondary education. They allege that he attacked a teacher. Nadia refuses to believe that her son could be violent, and insists that the institution should take him back. They do yield to her pleas.
The devoted mother becomes increasingly desperate after her best friend refuses to have her son play with Basil, and her own husband becomes less supportive of their child. At first, it isn’t clear whether Basil is going through adolescent rebellion, or whether the problem is a lot more profound. His increasingly erratic body language and demeanour begin to suggest that he is neurodiverse (perhaps autistic?), even is the movie never clarifies the precise nature of his condition. Nadia comes up with a cunning plan in order to to engage with her son: she emulates his behaviour.
Very peculiar bonding scenes ensue. Nadia embraces the beast inside of her in order to be able to communicate with Basil. She grunts, screams, howls and jumps around like a monkey, painted face et al. And she neighs like a horse, while both mother and son wear creepy equine masks. Her cathartic reconciliation efforts are moving, however disturbing. They do not seem to lead to any sort of recovery, instead legitimising Basil’s behaviour. Perhaps unsurprisingly, no other family member supports her in her very unorthodox endeavour.
This international co-production of five countries boasts an impressive cinematography. DoP Farouk Laaridh (of Kaouther Ben Hania’s dazzling Four Daughters, from two years ago) opts for an unusual frame ratio of nearly 1:1, jittery camera moves, hard lights in a dark environment (mostly at night), and distant and slanted shots (often from behind doors, curtains, on the mirror, and with a focus on unusual body parts such and the legs) in order to imbue the film with a sense of claustrophobia, tension, even horror. The image of Basil’s pale and panicky face behind the moving car window is a haunting one. Silent close-ups during mother and son face-offs communicate more than 1,000 words. Both Khoury and Nizar are outstanding in the leading roles.
The sound engineering too is impeccable. The scratching of the pencil on paper becomes jarring. Listening to music on the headphones turns oppressive. The sound of water is a recurring one: gurgling, bubbling, splashing, a washing machine or a running shower. These noises are neither cleansing nor liberating. On the contrary: they suffocate characters and viewers alike. Basil is sinking, and he’s firmly holding mum’s hand as de descends underwater. The journey could be dangerous and potentially fatal for both people. The embrace of the drowning, we call it in my native Portuguese language.
As the prospect of violence becomes increasingly real, Nadia finally starts to question her tactics. The director and the cinematographer avoid graphic scenes and exploitation by placing the camera in unusual positions. That’s a noble filmic choice. On the other hand, the film lacks a notable climax and a significant denouement. Ironically, Sink doesn’t always go deep enough into the subject of mental health, remaining firmly on the surface instead. As a result, this gingerly-crafted, female-directed movie is more about tormented motherhood than about neurodiversity.
Sink just premiered in the 5th Red Sea International Film Festival.
