Darin J Sallam’s debut feature Farha defies expectations. It’s a pertinent film to turn to, given the pervading debate on gender in the wake of Greta Gerwig’s Barbie. But gradually through its 90-minute length Sallam’s film alters into something more—a piece of tragic and violent history of a nation and its people, a survival drama, and a coming-of-age tale, all rolled into one.
Set in Palestine in 1948, it is inspired by the real-life story of young Radiyyeh. We see her in the beginning as the titular character Farha frolicking with her friends amid nature, picking figs, reading a novel by Shaima Hassan and arguing with the priest about why there isn’t a school for girls, just like there is one for
boys. When asked what’s more for a woman to learn other than the Quran, she is quick to respond: Geography, History, Math, English. “Stubborn” is a word people constantly use to describe her.
Farha unfolds as an engaging drama about this rebel with a cause, a headstrong girl, fighting for her rights in a conservative world. She doesn’t know how to cook. Even as her best friend Fareeda dreams of the sheep and trees of the village, Farha longs for the backpack, pens, and books in the city school. Her perceptive uncle convinces her mayor father that she is too young to be married off and should pursue studies instead. “Knowledge in youth becomes wisdom in age,” he argues.
Even as she gets permission to complete her studies in the city and calls out her friend in jubilation for a party, the intimations of approaching misfortunes are all around her. The young ones who are defiant against the foreign troops, train with their imaginary guns. We hear incessant, urgent chatter about protecting the village. We see shadowy rebels, the local militia, lurking stealthily in the night, warning that the calls for a truce are mere illusions for Palestinians.
It sets up a larger event within which to locate Farha/Raddiyeh and the future course of her life. That of the
Nakba, also known as the Palestinian Catastrophe, that led to the destruction of the Homeland, the persecution and displacement of the Palestinians. The reverberations of the violence and the exodus have only grown stronger over time. In fact, the filmmaker’s own family had fled Palestine for Jordan in 1948 and Sallam lays it bare straight and simple.
As calls for the safety of women and children rise under siege, Farha’s father hides her in the pantry, promising to return for her. Alone in the darkness with the sounds of bombs and gunshots outside, her tenacity is tested. Will the tough nut survive the cataclysm? As she hopes against hope, the film reaches the tension of a survival drama. The young protagonist witnesses the harrowing depths of inhumanity. While death stalks a newborn and an innocent family faces untold horrors and brutality, Farha grows up, silently witnessing the violent slice of history through the cracks in the door and the little shaft on the wall.
Kamar Taher as Farha effortlessly incites our care and concern while making us admire her strength in adversity. The Jordon-Sweden-Saudi Arabia co-production that opened at the Toronto International Film Festival gets intensely moving and progressively suffocating and ends on a note of boundless loss, despair, anguish and hopelessness.
Farha is a film where personal becomes political and political is assiduously personal. Sallam makes a strong statement. However, she is steadfast in communicating a lot by saying very little.