Steeped in the traditions of the desert tribes and tinged with mysticism, The Blue Lake is one of the small gems of new Arab cinema unearthed by the Cairo Film Festival. The stark brightness of the Moroccan desert creates a metaphysical backdrop for the journey of Youssef and his grandfather to a mythical lake, reputed to be a green oasis created by the tears of a woman in mourning. At the same time, the film has the authenticity and quiet humor of a story about real people. Told as a sort of fable, it is at heart a voyage of self-discovery through a landscape of the soul. This small but resonant film should travel comfortably around the festival circuit, particularly in the Mediterranean region.
Director Daoud Aoulad-Syad (Adieu forain, The Wind Horse, The Mosque) is also a renowned photographer, a fact that suggests he has an autobiographical connection to the 12-year-old Youssef (Youssef Akadir), who is crazy about photography and apparently very good at it, despite being sightless. The paradox of a blind photographer opens the door to meditation on inner sight and vision, reinforced by the odd characters they meet en route.
In the ordinary world that serves an a introduction, Youssef is a popular student who says goodbye to his schoolfriends and his girlfriend to visit his grandparents in their village over summer vacation. Loving and over-protective, the old folks have been his guardians ever since he lost his parents in a car accident when he was a baby. Now that he feels “all grown up”, they don’t know how to handle his restlessness, other than to give in to all his demands. When he overhears a conversation about a group of blind Swiss tourists intending to visit the Blue Lake, he insists that grandpa Allal (played with gentle, tired affection by veteran actor Mohamed Khouyi) take him there, too.
Allal initially refuses, but his heart is heavy with a secret the pulls him, too, to the lake. He says several times that he wants to “stop the noise of his taxi” and rest his body. While grandma Ouardia (Hasna Tamtaoui) worriedly looks on, they depart in Allal’s taxi cab on what promises to be a long journey.
There is soon a mini-confrontation with a policeman who stops them at a checkpoint and objects to Youssef taking his picture. Allal talks his way out of that one, unaware that Youssef has spirited away the cop’s notebook in revenge. “You underestimate me,” he tells his grandfather, a comic phrase that becomes his refrain as the film goes on.
The screenwriters are stingy with words and the scant dialogue leaves some of the events that befall the two travellers open to interpretation or even puzzling, as in Youssef’s abrupt return to grandpa after being lost in the desert. One wonders whether there are shots missing or if the editing is deliberately elliptical.
In the role of the boy, Akadir expresses an unselfconscious confidence that makes his blindness a natural part of his individuality, like his surprising ability to take good photographs. Although his aging guardians worry what will become of him when they are gone, and there is even a dark hint that neither one may ever return from the Blue Lake, Youssef seems unsinkable. At first he appears willful and dangerous in his readiness to run away across the desert. But with every new encounter – the guardian of a desert well who lives a lonely existence, the leader of a small religious community who teaches in parables – he learns something important about the essence of a human being.
An interesting subtext is how the official precepts of religion are superseded by pragmatism in the desert; as when the two travellers are offered cooked linx meat and Youssef asks if it’s halal. Their host replies, “It’s hunger that’s forbidden.”
Cinematographer Ali Benjelloun admirably captures the fascination of Youssef’s home village with its sharp, clean lines cutting through the warm ochre-colored sandstone that seems sculpted into streets and habitations. In shots of Allal praying against a cloudy sky or the unexpected appearance of a CGI hot air balloon, the desert vibrates with ancient meaning but always sidesteps the stylized perfection of The Sheltering Sky. Music is minimal.
Director: Daoud Aoulad-Syad
Screenwriters: Daoud Aoulad-Syad, Majid Seddati, El Hoceine Chani
Producers: Daoud Aoulad-Syad, Cécile Rubrecht
Cast: Youssef Akadir, Hasna Tamtaoui, Mohamed Khouyi
Cinematography: Ali Benjelloun
Art director: Ismael Karmoune
Editing: Daoud Aoulad-Syad, Tarik Amrani
Music: Moura Zdaidate
Sound: Abdeaziz Ghassine
Venue: Cairo International Film Festival (Horizons of Arab Cinema)
In Arabic
85 minutes
