There is a surprising modernity about the Tunisia presented in Looking for Ayda and a universality in its open-office set, where de-souled workers toil for a heartless, faceless company. Apart from the astonishingly beautiful mountain range planted across the highway from the office building, which the work force broodingly contemplates on their smoking breaks, it could be a location anywhere in the world. And this seems to be part of writer-director Sarra Abidi’s game, as she strips her characters of their names and identities, the better to melt them into a global society and sell dream vacations to targeted elderly retirees.
It’s a fetching concept for a film and Abidi, who is also a producer and editor, carries the anonymity and dehumanization out almost too well, indulging in long sequences where office manager Ayda (Zeineb Melki) exhibits the empty, repetitive behavior that is the inevitable result of her on-the-job training in false and robotic emotions. We meet her breaking in a new recruit by giving the young woman a badge, headphones and her stage name Florence, which is the only name she is allowed to use on the phone. Furthermore, speaking Arabic is strictly forbidden: only French is allowed as the operators must pretend to be Europeans. But despite it all, the new girl (demurely played by Nour Hajri, who toplined in Nouri Bouzid’s harrowing 2019 Syrian drama, The Scarecrows) is ambitious and will rise in the ranks.
The floor of the call center, with its elbow-to-elbow operators chattering away, is overlooked by a Big Brother style control center where Ayda and the office supervisor Yahya (Mohamed Yahya Jaziri) can listen in on any conversation for quality control. It makes the heart sink when they catch the lonely operator Sophie accepting compliments from one of the callers and even making a dinner date. The film’s best line of dialogue falls to a disgruntled Sophie: “After ten years here I’ve gained nothing but weight.” Loneliness and alienation are major themes of the film, and not limited to these regimented office workers. There is Ayda’s mom who lives alone someplace distant, and the charming single lady who runs a fried food shop that Ayda frequents, desperate for companionship.
But as the film marches on, it seems that there might be a spark of affection trying to ignite between Yahya and Ayda. Neither one is exactly shy, but they are inhibited by the office rule that states employees can only have professional relationships. Even when Yahya takes the big step of leaving the company after ten years of a cold, dissatisfying life, he struggles to express his feelings to the equally emotionally handicapped Ayda. That night on her way home to her joyless apartment, she texts, “Yahya, I am going to miss you,” only to erase the words without sending them. No surprise – there is little that can’t be easily foreseen coming, which is one of the film’s big flaws – but the interaction between the two has a bittersweet, unspoken quality that comes close to being touching.
Change is coming, however, when the big boss lady appears on the scene. She first fetes the marvelous workers with a 10-year anniversary party, then tells Ayda to fire half of them and refuses to pay the rest. More isolated than ever without Yahya, Ayda is pushed to save either her job or her humanity, but seemingly not both.
The film’s modernist sets are heightened by soothing dark colors and strategic lighting that Ryzsard Karcz’s cinematography uses to bring out the anything-but soothing geometry of the streets and architecture. You know you’re in trouble when graffiti on the commuter train seems like a human touch.
Director, screenplay: Sarra Abidi
Cast: Zeineb Melki, Nour Hajri, Mohamed Yahya Jaziri, Yousr Galai, Fatma Felhi, Sondos Belhassen
Producers: Sarra Abidi, Ibtissem Abidi
Cinematography: Ryzsard Karcz
Costume design: Yosra Mzoughi
Music: Omar Aloulou
Sound: Moez El Cheikh, Yazid Chabbi
Production company: Synergy Productions
Venue: Cairo Film Festival (Horizons of Arab Cinema)
In French, Arabic
100 minutes
