Hajjan, the latest film from the Palme d'Or-nominated Egyptian director Abu Bakr Shawky, may be set in the present day, but it has the makings of a great fable.
It begins with a young Saudi boy named Matar (Omar Alatawi), who is witnessing the birth of a calf at his family’s camel farm. It’s not going well – the mother dies in the middle of labour, leaving them scrambling to save the life of the calf before it’s too late.
When they finally manage this, it appears to be a still birth. But when the family walks away in sorrow, young Matar stays and begins to sing to the calf, stroking its barely grown fur. As he does this, the camel miraculously springs to life, sparking a sacred bond between the two. He names her Hofira.
Several years ago, Shawky was approached by his producing partner Mohamed Hefzy to discuss a conversation he’d had with the top brass at Ithra, the King Abdulaziz Centre for World Culture in Dammam, Saudi Arabia. They were interested in producing a film about a boy and his camel, which initially Shawky didn’t think he was right for. But as he began to imagine this boy and his camel, a much grander tale started to emerge, set in a land of Bedouin legends and the cinematically untapped world of camel racing.
That is where our story takes us next. We jump ahead in time, and now Matar is helping his brother, a successful camel jockey, prepare for the next day’s big race, as they sit around the campfire and recount tall tales of the great camel jockeys in their ancestry.
The race ends in tragedy; Matar’s brother dies, and it seems that Jasser (Abdulmohsen Al Nemer), the devious owner of their rival team, is responsible. Undaunted, Matar volunteers himself and his beloved Hofira for the next race to go up against them, but when he comes in second, his family sells Hofira to the rival team, forcing him to race for his greatest enemy.
Shawky and his co-writers, fellow Egyptian Omar Shama and Saudi Mufarrij Almajfel, crafted an involving and moving tale – a coming of age film that doubles as a sports drama. But as strong as the story is, which also feels like a Shonen anime series waiting to happen, it’s the director who emerges from the film as its greatest star.
Each race, as Matar and Hofira fight for first place, is thrillingly staged, with engaging action and its characters vividly placed within it – the emotional stakes clear throughout. We also get a feel of the local culture, with scene-stealing performances from the young local announcer, who races alongside the camels in a car, screaming into a microphone to narrate the affair moment by moment. And with the beauty of Saudi Arabia’s Neom surrounding each scene stunning photographed, the film has a beauty that demands it be seen on the big screen.
It's been less than six years since the kingdom began creating its own film industry, and for local filmmakers one of the greatest challenges has been finding actors who can step up to the challenge, especially given their often limited experience.
While the entire cast does an admirable job handling the proceedings, it’s the film’s young stars, particularly Alatawi, who shine the brightest. He never seems to be out of his depth even with the range of emotions he’s forced to capture. He has a unique look and eminently expressive face that should prove versatile as he moves forward with his career. Filmmakers take note – this may be the best young actor in the Gulf.
The question now will be whether Saudi Arabia itself embraces the film when it hits cinemas on January 18, particularly as it is directed by a non-Saudi. As of now, there has not been much of a marketing push from Ithra, so it’s hard to know if the film will reach its great potential in cinemas.
Perhaps a streaming platform will help give it the long life that it deserves, as this may be the most accessible Saudi film released for audiences around the globe since 2012’s Wadjda, directed by seasoned filmmaker Haifaa Al Mansour long before filming in the country became the norm.
If you get the chance to see Hajjan in cinemas, however, don’t pass it up. Otherwise, when it does find its audience down the line, you’ll wish you’d seen it as it’s meant to be seen.
