The Algerian civil war that wracked North Africa with sectarian violence and massacres of civilians in the ‘90s began after secular forces negated the results of a popular election that saw the Islamic Salvation Front (FIS) take political power. The Islamists, understandably enraged by the rules being changed after they had won, rose up in arms instead, plunging the country into war. This war raged for the rest of the ‘90s, but its bloodlust peaked in 1997 when a more radical splinter group of Islamists—for the FIS was actually quite moderate—began massacring entire neighborhoods of civilians who it viewed as standing for the secularization of politics and society. This war, and its gruesome climax in 1997, is the context for the film Papicha.
Directed by Mounia Meddour, Papicha follows the devil-may-care antics of Nedjma (Lyna Khoudri), a teenaged student in Algiers who moonlights as an underground fashion designer for her schoolgirl pals. Nedjma and her best friend, Wassila (Shirine Boutella), regularly sneak out of the confines of their school campus and go to all-night ragers at nightclubs, deface FIS propaganda posters advising women to dress conservatively and generally disregard the growing sense of impending gender-based violence descending on their neighborhood. Nedjma’s mother is a veteran of the French-Algerian War and seems to have raised both her daughters to be free spirits, as Nedjma’s older sister is a journalist who fearlessly reports on the violence of the civil war. No spoilers, but dozens of journalists were murdered in Algeria during the conflict.
When the civil war and its violence finally finds Nedjma, she resolves to challenge the FIS and the forces opposing secularization on their own terms: she will stage a fashion show featuring variations on the haik, the traditional women’s garment of the Muslim communities of North Africa. This sets up a final showdown between the forces of the Algerian civil war, and does so in a way that preserves both sides’ ideological vagueness: neither the government forces (the pro-secularization side) nor the FIS were zealots with clearly articulated viewpoints. The FIS were a modern political party that wanted to win political power via elections, after all, and not just mindless jihadists. Papicha avoids explaining anyone’s ideology in any comprehensive way, which is both refreshing for a film set in the Islamic world in the age of the Global War on Terror and true to real life. It merely suggests that the Islamists wanted quiescent women who stayed in the home and other side was open to women having freer, more modern life options.
The filmmaking in Papicha is mostly strong. The acting and the cinematography are excellent, with outstanding performances being well-framed by clever camera work. Unfortunately, the film struggles a bit with editing and a weakly written final act. There are wild swings in mood, pace and purpose that happen shockingly fast throughout the film, and while this feels intentional, it is nevertheless too jarring and hints at the editing being too cavalier. In particular, there are two scenes with Nedjma in intense grief digging through agricultural fields that feel as if they come from an entirely different film.
A bigger issue that prevents Papicha from being one of the best films of the year—because make no mistake, it is quite good—is a predictable climax that comes off as convenient for the arcs of the main characters, and will likely leave many viewers underwhelmed. It also reduces many of the side characters to cookie-cutter roles that stand in stark contrast to the rich characterization that Nedjma, Wassila and a few of their friends have. Overall, Papicha is a propulsive, entertaining and woman-centered (and woman-directed) film from the Arab world, making it well worth any viewer’s time.
The post Papicha appeared first on Spectrum Culture.