Têtes Brûlées

Têtes Brûlées

VERDICT:  A sensitive and emotionally intimate exploration of cultural identity amidst grief, ‘Têtes Brûlées’ recounts how a 12-year-old girl from a Tunisian family living in Brussels loses her beloved brother, in Maja-Ajmia Yde Zellama’s stereotype-shattering debut feature.

Têtes Brûlées (literally, hotheads) is a story of loss and mourning, a sad reality that forms the context for a detailed description of 12-year-old Eya’s wrenching passage to adulthood. This first feature from writer-director Maja-Ajmia Yde Zellama expands one of her short films, which may account for its slow pace and lack of incident. But the film’s fascination lies in watching how naturally the filmmaker captures social interactions and reactions, taking the audience deep inside the home, hearts and minds of a closed Maghreb community in urban Belgium. It won a Special Mention of the International Jury in the Berlinale’s Generation 14plus program, where it premiered.

Far from the familiar tales of conservative religious households holding back the creative development of rebellious young daughters, Yde Zellama describes her heroine as a modern, outgoing girl with a mind of her own. Eya is on the cusp of puberty, still a bit of a tomboy and a child, unselfconsciously bonding with her older brother Younès and his friends. She is also straddling her family’s traditional Islamic culture with the Westernization implied by her Brussels school and Belgian bestie Melissa, with whom she dances, to the sound of loud techno music, in TikTok videos. By the end of the film, the path Eya finds is very much her own choice, although it leaves open a number of ambiguities that leave a puzzling aftertaste.

In the first scene Eya, played to perfection as the sassy, spoiled baby of the family by Safa Garbaoui, waits to be picked up after school by an older helmeted boy on a big noisy motorbike. Her coquettish attitude, the way he meekly coddles her and hands over his music earbuds on request, the way he speeds dangerously through traffic as though to impress her, all make it seem like a case of young romance. It’s not till they get home to the Tunisian quarter of Brussels, walk into the same house and kiss their mom, that their status as siblings is clarified.

Nevertheless, the deep emotional tie between Eya and Younès is undeniable. Sleeping over at her girlfriend’s house, she is overcome with sudden anxiety for him, and before the night is out her relatives come for her. Younès is dead. No one tells her how or why, and only much later does she learn he has been killed by a stray bullet at a football game. As though no one is to blame.

The next hour of the film is all about the girl’s encounter with grief and mourning, which she is negotiating for the first time in her life. The house fills with relatives, some wailing and hysterical like Eya’s pregnant married sister, most dazed and mute with shock. The mayor arrives to offer his condolences and express his regret that Younès was “a collateral victim”. Eya, who is running for school president, doesn’t hesitate to confront this representative of city power with a written demand that their street be renamed in her brother’s honor, because he had a good heart and everyone loved him. One doubts there is much chance of this happening, but a later scene shows she hasn’t forgotten the idea.

The film’s rhythm is stately, even slow. Younès’s friends arrive and, for lack of space downstairs, gather in his room. Each one of them is carefully individualized: Yamine, who acts crazy with grief and cries he will build a mosque in his friend’s memory; a boy who sings a moving hymn; others who comfort Eya with their silent solidarity. Unlike the adults downstairs, everyone prays. There is no reticence in expressing emotion or weeping among these strong young men, who hug each other desperately in their pain. These are among the film’s most memorable moments. The final scene in the cemetery shows a new, more mature Eya emerging from her grief to assume her place in the community, standing veiled beside her father during the traditional rites. What this portends for her future life could be another film.

 Director, screenwriter: Maja-Ajmia Yde Zellama
Producers: Nabil Ben Yadir, Marc Goyens
Cast: Safa Garbaoui, Mehdi Bouziane, Mounir Amamra, Adnane El Haruati, Saber Tabi
Cinematography: Grimm Vandekerckhove
Editing: Dieter Diependaele
Production design: Eve Martin
Production company: Komoko (Belgium) in association with Quetzalcoatl (Belgium), 10:80 Films (Belgium)
World sales: MAD World
Venue: Amman International Film Festival (Arab Narrative Feature Competition)
In Dutch, French, Arabic
83 minutes