A coming-of-age tale, a story of self-knowledge and a spiritual journey that spans the kingdom of Saudi Arabia, Hijra is many things. Premiering in the Venezia Spotlight section of this year’s Venice Film Festival, it begins in 2001 in Taif, as a young girl, Sarah, her sister Janna and their grandmother Sitti take a bus to Makkah to perform Hajj.
Janna (Lamar Faden) steals her sister’s Walkman, plugging herself into a musical fantasia that spirits her away from her strict upbringing.
When the bus pulls up, Sarah (Raghad Bokhari) disappears. Sitti (Khairiah Nathmy) is apoplectic, fearing Sarah’s father will find out, and believing she may have run off to Jeddah with a young man. So begins her cross-country odyssey with Janna in search of the runaway. For Janna, it is a trip that will define her maturing into adulthood.
“You are not a child any more. You are becoming a woman. People will judge you,” says the strict and deeply religious Sitti, who believes she must demonstrate a righteous path for her granddaughter to tread.
This is amplified when they meet Janna’s aunt (Ghaliah Amin), working as a beauty therapist in a spa. “Do you call this a job?” spits Sitti, who believes Sarah has learnt her free-spirited behaviour from her aunt. She appears to cling to traditions, unable to accept that younger generations are seeking something different in life. And so Hijra, written and directed by Saudi filmmaker Shahad Ameen (whose 2019 prize-winning movie Scales also premiered in Venice) and filmed in Neom, sets itself up as a clash between old and young.
Ameen ensures we fall for the characters, despite their differences. Much of the film is a three-hander, as Janna and her grandmother find a driver, Ahmed (Nawaf Al-Dhufairy), to take them on their search. Initially, they are suspicious of him, believing he is a scammer selling fake sacred water. But gradually, they forge a bond – one that’s almost as tight as the pinkie swear between Janna and Sarah, a promise that resonates hauntingly later on.
“I’m an outlaw who never committed a crime,” Ahmed tells Janna as they grow closer. He even sings a snatch of Bob Marley’s No Woman, No Cry, while dispensing homespun wisdom such as: “Camels are like Arabs – they never forget.”
Hijra loses its way for a while, as the trio discover that Sarah may have absconded to Egypt. The pacing flags and the focus loses it sharpness. But even here there are moments to cherish, such as Sitti teaching her granddaughter about astronomy and the stars in the sky. Fortunately, Hijra picks up in the final act as Janna and Sitti find common ground when shocking revelations tumble forth.
Throughout, this co-production between Saudi Arabia, Iraq, Egypt and the United Kingdom is an artful watch, with Chilean cinematographer Miguel Ioan Littin-Menz finding poetry in the rough-hewn desert landscapes. Also working on the film’s look in collaboration with Ali Saad is British production designer Chris Richmond, whose work includes 2011's Dreams of a Life.
As these names suggest, there’s craft and care in the film, and experience that turns this into a highly watchable character study. The central performances all impress, especially the young Faden, cheekily munching on an ice cream one minute, looking withdrawn and insular the next. Building slowly towards a poignant, poetic conclusion, Janna comes to realise she’s not just on the cusp of adulthood. Rather, she is about enter a world where emotions and motivations are far more complex than she could ever have imagined.
