Review: Ghadi

[SPOILER WARNING]

We might have finally witnessed the arrival of a film worthy of calling Lebanese.

I watched Ghadi two days ago, directed by Amine Dora and written by George Khabbaz. Khabbaz also stars in the film, and even wrote the main song of the movie. Antoine Moultaka, Lara Matar, and Mona Tayeh star in the movie, among others. It’s a beautiful movie, even though it’s a bit rough around the edges.

The film tells the story of Leba, a pianist whose wife gives birth to a trisomic child who they name Ghadi. Ghadi is mocked at school, and the people in the village can’t stand him. They draft a petition that would give the villagers the legal right to exile Ghadi from the village and send him to a special needs school where he would stay and live. Leba has spent his entire life in the Mchakkal neighborhood, and wants his son to grow up here too. He cannot stand to spend a week away from his son. Desperate, he devises an ingenious plan to get the villagers off his back and keep his family together. Now this part of the plot has given me doubts, as I don’t think it’s exactly possible. Here it is: Leba gathers all the men in the village and tells them that Ghadi is actually an Angel sent from heaven to watch over the people of the Mchakkal neighborhood, and that all his moaning and shouting is a form of warning that he sounds off whenever someone in the neighborhood is sinning. The villagers are skeptical at first, but Leba starts giving private details of these mens’ lives that he claims Ghadi has told him. One by one, they begin to believe his tale, and they share the news with their families, until everyone in the village begins believing that Ghadi is an angel sent from above. Their belief is cemented by the fact that their prayers to Ghadi are apparently being heeded and their wishes granted (by Leba, his wife and a group of friends who record all the prayers and set off to make these wishes come true, in hope of instilling the belief in the villagers that Ghadi is truly a divine creature.)

I don’t know. Maybe I’m a tad too skeptical, but I couldn’t help but feel that the excuse Leba made up was far-fetched. Every single one of these adult men entirely believed that this little boy was one of God’s disciples? They even ask where his wings are… Sane men do not ask this. I understand, the message George Khabbaz was trying to send is that these special needs children are truly precious, and in the entire film Ghadi is nicknamed The Angel. It’s a heartfelt message he is trying to send, but it does feel implausible.

Ghadi, like Where do we go now?, is a film that can be categorized as part of escapist cinema. All movies are escapism journeys. These two take it a step further, more invested in the message they are trying to convey rather than in believability and realism. It stood out because Ghadi tries very hard to root itself in reality and life in the Lebanese countryside. I understood and appreciated that, which is why I continued to watch the film and enjoy it.

One can easily see that George Khabbaz is a well-educated auteur with a rich cultural background from the first 15 minutes of the film. He effortlessly weaves Mozart and his beautiful music into the film, and even draws from Mozart’s own history and mirrors it in the story. He has always been skilled at creating vivid and larger than life characters, as is evident in the film’s plethora of characters. The scheming barber, the policeman with thieving tendencies, the cheap butcher, the free-spirited prostitute – all interesting characters that enrich the story and keep it interesting. I had wished Lara Matar, who plays Leba’s wife, played a bigger role in the story, as her lines were very limited and she didn’t provide much to the story. Another character I wish was more fleshed out is Gerard, the antagonist of the story who is trying to reveal Leba’s scam. His hatred for Leba stems from his jealousy of him, as they had both loved Leba’s wife when they were young. I wished he had more screen time, as a more fleshed out conflict would’ve heavily vitalized the story. I did have a talk with the people involved in the film’s production, and they told me that all of this was included in the original script, but it had to be cut out to shorten the script and keep it more concise, with an evened out pace that would keep the audience invested in the story, so I can understand that.

The cinematography in this film is really good. It appears to be inspired by the camera work of the 2011 film King’s Speech (as a friend pointed out to me), such as the placing of characters in awkward positions that leave much space in the frame around them, to convey a sense of insecurity and insignificance to them. The lighting also gives the film a bright whitish look – heavenly, one would say. It truly fits the film’s mood and message, and adds flavor to the visual aspect of the experience.

I appreciate it when a film uses famous classical music. I appreciate it even more when it is actually put to good use. I’m glad to say Ghadi utilizes it in effortless ways that are synced with the story. Not only is Mozart’s life used in the story, but so is his music, and it does wonders for this script. Hearing Turkish March in the film’s opening truly incited a leap of joy inside me, as I watched the amazed villagers as that piano hovered over them. I may be overanalyzing here, but I’m pretty sure this was a sign for what was about to come. This piano was the salvation of Leba, and it would be Ghadi’s too. Leba’s newfound love for music as a child cured him from his stuttering problem and invigorated him. It was Ghadi’s salvation too because, had it not been for the piano instructor, Leba might’ve aborted his child, as we saw in his final meeting with his mentor. This, among many symbols used in the film, give you an extra little something if you’re smart enough to take notice of them.

Ghadi excels at something we have seen Lebanese films fail at catastrophically as of lately. For once, we are not spoon-fed the Christian-Muslim conflict. It is inserted seamlessly into the story of one of the characters at the end of the movie, and that short silent scene is more powerful than many feature-length films that deal with the same issue, something only a skilled writer can achieve. The movie also deals with the surprisingly unaddressed issue of racism in Lebanon. That one character whose mother (I just cannot remember her nationality) was dark skinned and father were Lebanese, yet he was born with dark skin. The villagers treat this man as an inferior just because he appears different to them. It puts into retrospect something we are not fully aware of in Lebanon: not only are we sensitive what religion the next person follows, but also what their skin color is. And what amazes even more is that this is not even a major theme in the film, and just about 20 to 30 seconds of screen time are given to it. One other issue dealt with in the film is sexism. The villagers show mild contempt towards Leba before having Ghadi, as apparently two daughters aren't a great achievement, and implore him to try for a boy. What does this mean? The Lebanese couldn't possibly still adopt the same mindset as the one by the Spartans in Ancient Greece now, could they? Food for thought, kids.

Antoine Moultaka is a master of his craft.

The acting performance of the cast ranges between two points. There is no bad acting in the film. It’s just that some actors soar in their roles while others are just average. Antoine Moultaka shines. He is truly a veteran actor that deserves all the praise he gets. I was surprised with George Khabbaz’s performance at first. In his scene with Moultaka, I felt he could’ve given more. I think a couple of more takes would’ve nailed it. In the rest of the movie he is back up to par and gives an impressive performance rather different than what we’ve seen before from him. We see a desperate man who is truly willing to do anything for his son. A scene worthy of notice is the one where Takla (I think that’s her name, the woman with all the kishek) enters his house and discovers he has been fooling the entire village with all the divine business. It’s an emotional scene that proves that all of us are flawed, even the people that bear the hardest of exteriors. Another scene worthy of mention is when Leba break into tears over the prospect of losing his son for just a week. I was also impressed by the actress who plays the prostitute. Her words rang with truth as she told Gerard she was leaving her profession.

One final thing I would like to address is the comparison people are making between this film and Italian cinema. They are calling it a crisis of identity, and that Amine Dora and George Khabbaz weren’t true with their portrayal of certain characters as they felt they were “foreignized”. I have to disagree. Strongly. Let’s be honest. We aren’t exactly proud of that many Lebanese films to be willing to show them off to other countries. It’s because most films are simply attempts at films, and they seem to fail one time after the other, albeit with a relatively rising scale in quality. Yet, we’re still not “there”. We still don’t have a real cinematic identity. I don’t think cheap and under-thought are considered identities. So, when a movie from Lebanon with an authentic style finally comes, we are quick to call "PLAGIARISM!"  This might be the first Lebanese film with a real identity. This is the movie we get to compare other movies to. It’s nowhere near perfect, but it’s a darn good start.

Amine Dora and George Khabbaz have finally given us a movie we are proud to call Lebanese, and might have properly kicked off Lebanese cinema (in terms of quality, as I don’t expect it to make much in box office returns, unfortunately…). We might be witnessing the birth of the Lebanese New Wave. Here’s hoping for a Lebanese Stanley Kubrick any time soon.