Rahhala: Hayya ala Hayya

There is little that can prepare you for the overwhelming sensations of Rahhala: Hayya ala Hayya.

Even when you have read the blurb about the film before seeing it. Even when the narration – which appears on screen as text in both English and Arabic – gives an early trigger warning about the nature of the stories it contains. The film is composed of a series of accounts of cruelty suffered by three sisters and recounted by one of them. “Always remember this is your place,” her older brother tells her at one point, “Under my shoe.” These instances of everyday barbarism are intensified and undercut by Jo’s experimental presentation.

The film strings together these scenes to form a fragmentary narrative of abuse. They are set against a patchwork visual track that flits from subject to subject, overlaying a blade of grass being buffeted by the wind with a rose-red sunset or the explosions of celebratory fireworks. If it wasn’t for the text on screen, they would combine with Rami al Jundi’s rhythmic score to form some hypnogogic reverie. Here, they act as a counterpoint, but one that seems to stand in defiance of the dehumanising treatment that has inspired the film.

At one point, the filmmaker quotes a verse: “You resume that you’re just a small body, but you contain the entire universe.” In that context, she is trying to grapple with the way that the marks of physical violence fester and sink below the skin, scarring deeper than we can imagine, creating a bottom pit inside us. However, as Jo’s luminous visuals attest, there is a way out. This tactile and stomach-churning documentary comes to represent that – a defiant middle finger bathed in golden hour light.

Director, screenplay, editing, cinematography, sound: Lujain Jo
Music: Rami al Jundi
Venue: International Documentary Festival Amsterdam (Competition for Short Documentary)
In English
18 minutes

Read more of our short film coverage over at Verdict Shorts