Naga: How a film about a vengeful camel is inspiring Saudi women

Shots of dunes and the desert labyrinth, exacerbated by the mind-bending delusions and hallucinations Sarah sees in her intoxicated state, serve to up the tension.

We soon understand how Sarah overcomes her fear. When she calls her friend for help, the latter reassures her that she has gone through the same experience more than once and survived.

With that, the fear becomes a collective experience.

Playing on fear

Aljaser does not try to embellish Sarah's fears. He portrays it honestly. Still, her willingness to rebel remains.

In the end, she slaps her young brother for no other reason than to perpetuate patriarchal behaviours as an adult. Similarly, she exposes a fake poet by publishing a damning recording without fearing the consequences.

Sarah squirms her way out of every situation, determined to make the curfew she promised her father that she would keep.

She throws bait, then her shoes, to the camel. She runs to avoid crowds instead of going to the hospital. She thinks nothing of eating camel meat.

These expressive images showcase Sarah's efforts to burst the bubble of fear, as well as her desire for revenge once she gains a little strength.

Still, she cannot entirely shake off the fear which prevented her from enjoying the adventure she embarked on in defiance of family, society, and the environment.

Perhaps she never wanted that adventure in the first place, and all she wanted was the freedom to choose. 

Locality and meaning

This is a Saudi film set in a Saudi environment, tackling a Saudi problem. The desert and the camel — two of the most obvious Saudi symbols — anchor the movie in place and time far more effectively than sound effects and cinematic style ever could.

Most remarkable was the depiction of the desert and its ability to churn out a vortex of emotions. Often in film, deserts are portrayed as symbols of drought or distance. In Naga, however, the desert is an expression of fear, instability, stillness, and the boundless wildness of imagination.

The camel, too, serves as a dual tool of expression. We fear her when she grunts and growls but sympathise when she gurns and cries after losing her mother.

Some will like this film, others will not. A lot relies on grasping the meanings behind things like the camel, the desert, or even the mountain that appears as an ode to freedom.

The job of art is to ask questions and stoke our imagination, often by using visually pleasing images. To that end, Naga does a pretty good job.

The film is an example of the power of symbols in cinematography to communicate ideas and feelings that resonate with global audiences despite their local focus.

With Naga, Aljaser leaves a remarkable imprint on Saudi cinema through his distinctive portrayal of a young woman's day-long adventure and the fear embedded in her every step.

It is a testament to the ability of Saudi Arabia's changing reality to break with that fear.

It is often said that a problem well stated is a problem half solved. This Saudi production states, loud and clear, that a new stage has been set for Saudi women — one on which fear has no place.