Inshallah a Boy (2023) — Movie Review
- Jan 21, 2024
"Inshallah a Boy", an intoxicating drama by director Amjad Al-Rasheed, takes us through the life of Nawal, subtly drawing us into the societal restrictions that women undergo in Jordan. This narrative stemmed from a real-life predicament of a family member brush with the biased laws and customs that favor men over women. Despite its elaborate plot and conspicuous symbolism crafted by Al-Rasheed along with co-writers Delphine Agut and Rula Nasser, the engrossing lead performance by Palestinian actress Mouna Hawa keeps viewers intrigued.
The film introduces Nawal as she tries, albeit unsuccessfully, to retrieve her brassiere from a fire escape, symbolic of her struggle with her gender-tied limitations. This abode, however, doesn't remain her secure haven for long. The following scene sees her priming herself before a cracked mirror, hoping to conceive a son with her indifferent husband, Adnan (Mohammad Suleiman). A sudden and tragic turn occurs when Adnan dies, leaving a trail of concealed debts and secrets.
Adnan's demise triggers a cascade of demands from Nawal's brother-in-law, Rifqi (Haitham Alomari), who insists on selling Adnan's truck and claiming inheritance on her apartment, which she shares with her daughter Nora (Seleena Rababah). Despite Nawal affirming that her dowry funded the apartment purchase, the absence of a legal document signed by Adnan draws her into a legal labyrinth.
Initially, Nawal receives support from her brother Ahmad (Mohammed Al Jizawi), but his patience wears thin as Nawal battles to retain her home. Her co-worker Hassan (Eslam Al-Awadi) offers sympathy, but his assistance carries an undertone of patronizing protectiveness, pushing Nawal to realize her autonomy.
As the film progresses, Nawal’s equations with other female characters of the film accentuate the inherent contradictions of their society. For instance, her affluent employer, Souad (Salwa Nakkara), maintaining a superficial image of freedom, is actually reliant on the financial support of an unseen husband. Meanwhile, Souad’s progressive daughter, Lauren (Yumna Marwan), strikes an unlikely bond with Nawal despite their differing values.
Nawal and Lauren’s complex relationship evolves as Nawal grapples with her legal problems and Lauren struggles to end her toxic marriage. Their mutual reliance fades as Nawal perceives the drawbacks of dependence on others.
Hawa's performance as Nawal beautifully balances her fiery court battles and silent introspectiveness. The film reaches a poignant climax where Nawal's reflection in the broken mirror changes – the naïve woman is long gone, with a resilient woman set to emerge. Although Nawal's battle with society and law does not yield significant changes, she sets a strong example for her daughter.
Nawal’s journey has a profound impact on young Nora. As the film wraps up with Nawal finally managing to drive the long-contested pickup truck, Nora's face shines with pride and admiration for her mother's strength – a foreshadowing of expansive possibilities for women in the future.