Sink

Courageously breaking a long-held taboo, Sink (Gharaq) opens up an important conversation on mental illness in a family setting, perhaps for the very first in Jordanian cinema. Writer-director Zain Duraie’s debut feature demands a lot of its cast as it explores the special mother-son dynamics that accompany the elder son’s descent into manic hallucinations and turn a happy middle-class family upside down. But even if parts of it seem underwritten or overly ambitious, it hits several memorable high notes in scenes that are genuinely scary and revealing, and signal a promising new filmmaker with something to say.

Duraie first caught the eye of international audiences with her short film Give Up the Ghost (2019), which bowed in Venice Orizzonti and went on to win prizes at El Gouna and the Palm Springs ShortFest. Sink, her first feature, has followed its debut in Toronto with extensive fest play around the world, most recently in Amman and Sarajevo. Graced by excellent tech work led by cinematographer Farouk Laaridh, it is notable for its close observation of a fraying family and the frankness with which it presents a son’s nightmarish change in personality as his illness progresses.

Played with tragic intensity by young actor Mohammed Nizar (Gaza Mon Amour), Basil is a med student who pours over videos of heart bypass surgery for his upcoming exams. His mother Nadia (Clara Khoury, The Voice of Hind Rajab) watches along with him. But an incident in class reveals the hidden aggressiveness in the boy’s personality, which is severe enough to get him suspended from school. Mom is in denial and stoutly supports his version of an “accident”, while Dad (played by popular Jordanian comedian Wissam Tobeilah) is doubtful; sadly, their friends uncoolly decide to shun Basil lest he contaminate their kids. Since whatever happened in class took place offscreen, it is impossible for the viewer to know who’s right. It is not the only instance in the film of ambiguity deliberately clouding the story.

The father, always a barely-there character, packs a bag and disappears from the story with Basil’s basketball-playing brother and their little sister Dima, who gives Basil her unconditional love despite considering him a little weird and scary. As Nadia is about to find out.

Alone at home, Nadia and Basil at first enjoy their common passion for floating weightlessly in a covered swimming pool, a clever metaphor for a quasi-amniotic bond. The film’s rhythm picks up in a series of increasingly shocking scenes, beginning with Basil locking Nadia out of the house. It is nightfall before he opens the door. That night, she wakes to see him watching her sleep, the first of the scary moments that go on escalating until the film reaches its inevitable climax.

Khoury gives a very believable, realistic performance as the dismayed mother, who suddenly realizes she cannot control her son’s frantic exhibitionism in a restaurant where he makes her dance with him; later he almost crashes the car before running wild in a park. Still Nadia tries her best to understand him, even acting out with him in a chicken-clucking mud fight at one point. But with little dialogue at her disposal, she is too often left in martyred silence, staring meaningfully at Basil. Even a terrifying scene in which the boy aggressively pulls a huge rubber rabbit mask over her head while he brays like a donkey is virtually mute.

Nizar, as the unraveling son, can be riveting in scenes like these where he unexpectedly lets his inner wildman loose and reveals frightening new twists to a disintegrating mind. It is a memorable role that takes him through unsettling physical permutations as well as mental, and heralds a talent to watch.

Director, screenwriter: Zain Duraie
Cast: Clara Khoury, Mohammad Nizar, Wissam Tobeileh
Producers: Alaa Alasad, Hind Anabtawi
Cinematography: Farouk Laaridh
Editing: Abdallah Sada
Production design: Yasmine Nassar
Costume design: Farah Karouta
Music: Ted Regklis
Sound: Isra Banuelos
Production companies: Tabi360 (Jordan), The Jordan Film Fund, the Doha Film Institute (Qatar), The Red Sea Fund (Saudi Arabia), AFAC (Lebanon)
Venue: Sarajevo Film Festival (SFF Partner Presents)
In Arabic
88 minutes