Director Mansour Assad’s dark comedy is a fine social commentary on the Kingdom’s gradual shift towards liberalism and the cultural reaction to it.

Rating:  ⭐️⭐️⭐️💫 (3.5 / 5)

By Mayur Lookhar

Cinema in Saudi Arabia? You got to be kidding. Most, like this reviewer, would roll their eyes in disbelief at the mention. Long perceived as a conservative, regressive society, Saudi Arabia, under Mohammad Bin Salman, has been slowly opening its doors to a few liberal ideas. Part of this change is largely driven by economic interests, as evident from huge investments in sports. It has even embraced cinema with the opening of theatres.

It was deemed a watershed moment, but many didn’t know that Saudi Arabia has a history of cinema dating back to the 1950s. Though limited, most of it was state-controlled. The first film, Al Thubab (The Files), was produced by Saudi Aramco and starred Hasaan al-Ghanem, considered the first Saudi actor. Cinematic productions continued for four decades but ceased in the 1990s when the Kingdom adopted a more conservative approach. It wasn’t until 2018–2019 that cinema returned to the Kingdom. The sector is under the supervision of the Film Commission of the Ministry of Culture.

For the first time, a two-day Saudi Film Festival was held in India, across three cities – Mumbai, Delhi, and Hyderabad. Only a handful of films were screened over the two days, with day 2 featuring just one screening, that of the feature film Slave (2022). Though yours truly has watched the odd film or series in Arabic, Slave is the first film from Saudi Arabia that we’ve watched.

Written and directed by Mansour Assad, Slave is also co-written by Rulan Hasan and Hisham Ibraheem. The story begins with Detective Salem (Mohammed Ali), thrilled with his son Mullah (Ahmed Alturki) completing his graduation in medical science. The father has called for a celebration, mostly attended by influential but conservative elders. One of them proposes his daughter’s hand, but Mullah turns it down, revealing that he is already married. He shows him the ring, which his father had urged Mullah not to wear, as he found it too girlish. The uncle is taken aback but then smiles and says, “No worries, you can take my daughter as the second wife.”

Marriage, though, is the least of Mullah’s worries. It is not medicine, but the bald young graduate wants to pursue his passion – to become a chef. Salem is naturally furious that, after all his education, his son wants to become a cook. Mullah tries hard to explain that there is a difference between the two, but his dad wouldn’t budge. Enraged, Mullah leaves home, vowing never to return. Ten years later, Salem finds himself interrogating Sakkir (Ziyad Alamri), a young social media influencer, who, along with his wife Latifah (Khairiah Abulaban), is accused of posting inappropriate videos.

From here on, Assad’s film adopts a Rashomon narrative, throwing up different probabilities to address the conflict at hand. A key ingredient here is a mystical pill that Sakkir becomes addicted to as he struggles to deal with the trauma and the backlash that he and his wife face over their social media videos. What is this pill? Is Assad using this pill as a metaphor for some spiritual crutch?  In dealing with Sakkir, Salem is also reminded of his own conflict with his son Mullah.

Assad’s Slave is a fine social commentary, subtly reflecting the conflict that the oil-rich but conservative Saudi kingdom faces as it slowly opens a few liberal doors. As with any renaissance, it is the youth that drives the change. In the context of Saudi Arabia, it’s much more complex because the polarization is likely to be more pronounced among the youth. On the one hand, you have Sakkir and Latifah, who drinks on the odd occasion and is averse to wearing a hijab. Then there is Saudi’s most popular YouTuber (played by Mohammed Alzoraiq). He is a self-styled custodian of the faith, but his hypocrisy is reflected in his Western attire. He is at the center of leading the hate against Sakkir and Latifah, often making a mountain out of a molehill. In an interview with a leading channel, that literally idolizes him, this youtuber walks in refusing to shake hands with the starstruck female journalist, who surprisingly is dressed in Western attire.

What’s remarkable about Slave is that, for its subject, it’s not an independent producer but the Saudi Film Commission that has blessed Assad’s story. This reflects the Kingdom’s desire to be more accepting of certain freedoms. While Slave subtly questions certain set norms, nowhere does it seek to challenge centuries-old culture. This is what makes it a fine watch.

A first Saudi film experience, and naturally an introduction to the talents on display. Slave’s poster will intrigue viewers with Mohammed Ali, as his look is reminiscent of Manoj Bajpai’s Sardar Khan from Gangs of Wasseypur (2013). Alternatively, we also see shades of Chiyaan Vikram in him. Ali doesn’t quite look his age, or should we say Alturki doesn’t look like his son. Ali, however, shines with his intensity. Young Khariah has great screen presence, with expressive eyes that convey much more than words. Your heart goes out to Ziyad Alamri, who emotes Sakki’s vulnerability to an intense degree. Should Sakkir cling to faith or embrace the free world? Assad’s principal cast, along with Alzoraiq, all chip in with impressive performances.

Slave is rich in its production values too, with Indian viewers likely to be pleasantly surprised by key characters mostly donning western attire. At 73 minutes, it’s an easy watch, though there are a few moments that feel stretched. Above all, Slave is likely to stun Indian viewers as it offers a fresh perspective on the new Saudi Arabia and helps break age-old stereotypes.



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