Oscar submissions reflect Arab hopes and realities

Gaza, repentance, sexual fluidity, child abduction, and football through adversity all feature in these longlisted works that together reflect the social realities and hopes of today's Middle East

A scene from the movie Arzé
A scene from the movie Arzé

Oscar submissions reflect Arab hopes and realities

At the end of November, the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences unveiled the longlist for the 97th edition of the Best International Feature Film category, with the shortlist set to be announced soon. Among the longlisted films are seven Arab entries officially submitted by their respective countries for the 2025 Oscars in the Best International Feature Film category, a prestigious award for films made outside the US in languages other than English.

These official submissions can be thought of a ‘cinematic ambassadors’, each nation selecting a film that embodies its cultural narrative and demonstrates its potential, with Palestine, Lebanon, Iraq, Algeria, Egypt, Morocco, and Tunisia all nominating contenders. Regardless of whether they win, they inspire Arab filmmakers to create and introduce their works to Arab audiences, who are often captivated by the association between the Oscars and Arabic-language films, which are about matters with which they can identify.

Among the 2025 submissions are short films, such as the collective Palestinian project From Ground Zero—a compilation of works by several Palestinian filmmakers under the supervision of Rashid Masharawi. Iraq enters Baghdad Messi by Sahim Omar Khalifa, an expansion of his earlier short film, while Algeria’s entry, 196 Metres, directed by Chakib Taleb-Bendiab, is based on real events.

Egypt’s submission, Flight 404 by Hani Khalifa, is a commercial film that did well at the Egyptian and Saudi box offices, while Morocco presents Everyone Loves Touda from Nabil Ayouch, which screened at Cannes—an historic first for the country.

As 2024 draws to a close, Al Majalla looks at each one, exploring their themes, aspirations, strengths, and vulnerabilities.


From Ground Zero

The suffering of the Palestinian people in Gaza is darker and more macabre than most horror films, so this collection of films is a powerful testament to cinema’s role as a voice for those who lack the resources to propel their own narrative.

From this perspective, From Ground Zero is one of the most significant Arab nominations of the year, not least for its poignancy, featuring films by Gazans documenting their daily life, their loved ones, and even death. It was a collaborative effort funded by Jordan, Qatar, and Palestine, with music composed by Iraq musician and oud player Naseer Shamma, further elevating its artistic and cultural resonance.

In Taxi Waneesa, I’timad Weshah interrupts her narrative to announce her brother’s death during filming, explaining how the film was meant to unfold and how his loss affected her passion for the project. Meanwhile, Hana Eleiwa’s No calls for resilience through the embrace of joy and rejection of despair. It has no ideological bias, seeing people rather than statistics.

Constructed atop the rubble of Gaza, the films’ artistic quality and craftsmanship varies, as does their craftsmanship, yet they all succeed in immersing us in Gaza’s current reality, introducing us to its daily vocabulary, life inside tents, the struggle for water, and the resourcefulness of using wooden materials as firewood for cooking.

Cinema itself emerges as a distant dream, as depicted in Excuse Me Cinema by Ahmed Hassouna, or as an alternative to writing in Excessive Loads by Alaa Islam Ayyoub and Selfies by Rima Mahmoud. In every instance, however, it serves as a document of place, time, and people.

Some films address children’s lives in war, such as Khamees Masharawi’s Soft Skin, which examines the horrifying habit of parents writing their children’s names on their bodies to identify them and collect their body parts in case of death. Another world, caught between life and death, unfolds in From Ground Zero—a collection of voices that unquestionably deserve to reach audiences worldwide.

Arzé

Directed by Mira Choueib, with a screenplay by Faisal Choueib and Louay Khrais, Arzé is a vibrant Lebanese-Egyptian-Saudi co-production with a logical and seamless progression, and tightly woven narrative.

Arzé (played by Diamand Bou Abboud) is a diligent housewife who makes and sells pastries, delivering them to customers who place phone orders. She embarks on a journey with her son Kenan across Lebanon’s varied sectarian and regional landscapes in search of his motorbike, which she bought to help him deliver her pastries.

Along the way, she adopts different identities, mimics dialects, and displays varying religious symbols to navigate her way through the different communities she encounters. This creates both comedic moments and a sharp commentary on the country's complex social dynamics.

Arzé remains a (nearly) neutral figure, unaffiliated and focused solely on surviving, a perspective that the film deliberately portrays, and there can be few better metaphors for the urgency of the everyday than the act of making and selling fresh pastries.

Before Arzé manages to navigate Lebanon's fractured societal identities, Diamand Bou Abboud brings her brilliantly to life, with her slender determined frame, taut veins in her hands, and ever-present smile all details that help define her.

The film brims with warmth and a youthful longing for love amid adversity, and while the sub-plot of Layla—a woman driven mad by her lover's long absence—may tread familiar ground in Arab cinema, Arzé as a whole stands out as an intelligent and dynamic work that forges an instant connection with its audience.

Baghdad Messi

A joint Belgian-German-Dutch-Iraqi co-production, Baghdad Messi is Iraq's official submission for the Oscars, written by Kobe Van Steenberg and directed by Sahim Omar Khalifa. It expands on a short film of the same name, created a decade ago (and still accessible online), so could have benefited from a modified title to distinguish it.

Baghdad Messi revolves around the tragic story of Hamoudi, a boy obsessed with Argentinian footballer Lionel Messi, 37, who is widely regarded as the best player ever. Despite losing a leg in a terrorist bombing in his Iraqi city, Hamoudi dreams of becoming a professional footballer like his idol.

The film explores another tragic chapter in Hamoudi's life—the loss of his father in a terrorist bombing while the pair are en route to repair the TV that Hamoudi uses to watch football. Doing so gives Hamoudi a rare sense of belonging among his peers, who might otherwise ostracise him due to his disability.

The Oscar-nominated film follows Hamoudi's journey to meet his footballing idols, like Messi and French striker Kylian Mbappé, and his determination to pursue his dream of becoming a football player, for which he trains relentlessly. The focus of the film is, therefore, on passion and hope, not melancholy. Remarkably, the actor who plays Hamoudi (Ahmed Mohammed Abdullah) has a nearly identical life story to that of his character. He, too, is a passionate football fan who lost his leg and his father in an Islamic State bombing near the family home.

Most of the film's scenes were shot in Iraq, and it has already earned accolades from international film festivals, including Best Film, Best Director, and Best Screenplay at the Arpa International Film Festival. It is tipped to do well at the Oscars.

Algiers

Based on true events, this film is both written and directed by Chakeeb Taleb-Bendiab, who also composed its score and co-edited it with Fouad Benhamou. It follows the abduction of children—specifically young girls—by a serial killer and predator. Falling into the thriller-mystery genre, its cinematic style closely mirrors that of Hollywood productions, with a particular resemblance to The Black Phone (2021), directed by Scott Derrickson and inspired by real-life stories.

Algiers opens with the dramatic abduction of a young girl in an otherwise calm and peaceful Algerian neighbourhood. As the story develops, it emerges that this calm is deceptive: similar abductions have occurred here but are not spoken of since they are considered shameful under traditional Eastern norms.

This silence hampers the search for the missing girl, a mission led by the perpetually tense investigator Sami (played by Nabil Asali), whose task is further complicated by his unwillingness to collaborate with psychologist Dr Dunia Assem (Meriem Medjkane), an attitude that itself has roots in childhood.

Despite this tension, Dunia pursues a parallel psychological and spiritual investigation, drawing on dreams and signs tied to her own past trauma as a kidnapping survivor, the post-traumatic stress from which she has still not overcome—something that only emerges midway through the film.

Algiers touches on police corruption and burnout among officers, which hinders their ability to perform effectively and save those who can be saved. Devoted yet isolated, Sami battles these obstacles in a desperate race against time. Algeria's 'Black Decade' of civil war and extreme violence in the 1990s is seldom far from the surface in this country and the film nods to the long-lasting scars endured by police personnel during that time of atrocities, yet this largely remains underexplored.

Amidst all the themes—child abduction, post-traumatic stress, assault, psychopathic characters, and predatory behaviours—the film can feel fragmented. Its aesthetic focus is aimed at Hollywood, with a relentless pace and thrilling sequences. A standout moment, however, is the climactic confrontation involving Dr Dunia, the predator, and the victim—an emotionally charged scene that eclipses the high-energy chases that dominate much of the screenplay. Taleb-Bendiab's prioritisation of style over substance delivers a film with notable cinematic flair. Will it sway the judges?

Flight 404

Written by Mohamed Ragaa and directed by Hani Khalifa, Flight 404 is one of the most hotly debated Egyptian films of the year, having received critical acclaim and box-office success while capturing the attention of the Arab world. On the surface, Flight 404 tells the story of Ghada Said, a former prostitute who finds God and decides to go to Mecca for Hajj to repent. About to board a flight, she learns that her mother has had an accident and requires emergency surgery.

Suddenly, Ghada needs a lot of money, and fast, which takes her back to a past she had been moving on from. Reconnecting, her former madam asks her to go back to work for one night only. It is then that Ghada meets the man who took her virginity at university and then left her.

Flight 404 examines forgiveness, particularly for women, as perceived in popular culture rather than in intellectual circles. This sparked heated debate. Critics say the film is regressive on women's liberation from societal judgments on their bodies. Others say the portrayed scapegoating of women—and society's refusal to absolve them of certain things—is not a film creation but a reflection of reality in Eastern societies.

Covering a subject matter with unique cultural specificity, the Flight 404 production team will hope the judges consider this. Yet, while this is a strength, it could also be a weakness if non-Arab audiences fail to grasp the subtleties of the issues shaping the protagonist's struggles without prior explanation.

Everybody Loves Touda

From renowned Moroccan director Nabil Ayouch and co-written with Maryam Touzani, Everybody Loves Touda continues the thematic exploration Ayouch began in Casablanca Beats (2021) with a story about dreams of music and singing in conservative communities that reject and prohibit the art.

Ayouch's latest work delves into the lives of Cheikhates—female singers specialising in performing Aita, a traditional Moroccan musical art form typically dominated by men. In their performing, they defy societal norms, risk their reputations, and endure judgmental stares. Touda, the film's protagonist (played by Nesrine Radi), is one of them.

In an interview with French website AlloCiné, Ayouch said: "Cheikhates have always appeared in my films, and they've always fascinated me. I've long wished to make them the focus of my work. I deeply admire strong women—undoubtedly because my mother, who raised me, is one such woman. For this reason, I wanted to give these women a voice in my films."

Ayouch said music "plays a central role" in the film, "so much so that it becomes a narrative in itself... Whether through Aita or the Moroccan folk songs performed by Touda in cabarets, the lyrics carry profound meaning". Due to be released in France on 18 December, there are no dates yet for commercial screenings in the Arab world.

Take my breath

A Tunisian film from Nada Mezni Hafaiedh, Take My Breath tackles the somewhat thorny issue of gender fluidity and the confusion some people have when it comes to this most sensitive of topics—and one that is seldom discussed in the Arab world.

According to The Hollywood Reporter, the film has a stellar cast including Amina Ben Ismail, Mohamed Mourad, Sana Ben Cheikh Larbi, and Fatma Ben Saidan, and tells the story of Shams, whose life is upended when she discovers a gender identity different from the one she initially believed, and what others always assumed.

Tunisia will harbour secret hopes of an award, having previously competed in the same Oscar category in 2020 with Kaouther Ben Hania's The Man Who Sold His Skin. In 2023, Ben Hania returned to the Oscars with Four Daughters, which was nominated for Best Documentary Feature. The country will hope this is 'third time lucky'.

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