Within a few generations, we, in the West, have managed to allow – demand even – that fathers modify their traditional absoluteness with some mothering qualities. But there is an older tradition, portrayed in this film, of the Patriarch: enigmatic and absolute who represents the absoluteness of reality to which there is no appeal.
The film opens with an encounter between the son of a Moroccan immigrant family and a slightly older man, the owner of a car breakers yard. The older man, who is from the same culture, demands respect and deference – something which the younger man refuses and which the older man patently does not deserve. This struggle between the business owner and the son, sets the contrast for what happens when the young man gets home.
He is met by his mother who scolds him for being so long and who is clearly caught between the son and his father – her husband – who has been waiting for the son's return. It is for her to express a protest that the son has kept his father waiting, the father does not voice such sentiments. He tells the son that his older brother has just been released from police custody, after driving whilst under the influence of alcohol. The brother will lose his licence. The youngest son therefore, will now have to drive his father from their home in France, to Mecca. They leave in the morning. This information is given to the son using not one word more than necessary and in a way which leaves no room for protest or even thought about whether this can happen. Tomorrow, they leave.
It is the old man's intention to complete the hajj before he dies. The following morning, he instructs his disgraced eldest son to take care of his mother and sister. Any goodbyes to his wife, must have already been made. Their relationship is one where whatever affection there might be is never on public display. And, indeed, there may be none. He leaves his wife as the English nobility left their country estates for the season: with all the 'staff' lined up to see them go. The son has voiced his protest to his mother. He is due to take his exams, exams which he has already failed and this is his last chance. He could leave the family, he tells her vehemently. But this threat is an empty one. There is no question that he is going to take his father to Mecca.
It is natural, in our tradition, for our sympathies to be with the son, although it should be born in mind that this would not be the case for many men – and perhaps also women – from the father's culture. At first, the film makes this easy. It is possible to see the father as a selfish tyrant, careless of his son's future, whose only interest is his own selfish pursuit of personal salvation. He cares nothing for his son or what he may be feeling. Indeed, when the son finally stages a protest during the journey, the father seeks him out – no mean thing since it means climbing to the top of a high hill, for this old and infirm man. He tells the son that he no longer needs him so, if the son does not want to continue, he can leave in the morning and the old man will make his own way from there. There is no affection in this statement, no acknowledgement of kinship, no regret at parting. You would talk this way to a stranger to whom there were no debts or outstanding ties. It may be that the old man was making this point about the son's behaviour.
The first point at which the film reveals that there are depths inside this old man is when, on some desert country road, an old woman stands hitching a lift. The son does not want to stop but the old man insists. When asked where she wants to go, the old woman points forward and says a word which the two men take to be a place name. But, on enquiring in the next town about the location of this place, no-one has ever heard of it. Still, the woman points forward saying the word, much to the son's increasing unease. It is possible to understand the old man's insistence on answering this woman's appeal as based on his recognition of the reality of another's desperation and this immediately undermines the confidence with which you have been able to dismiss him. It is also possible to understand this black-clad woman who does not speak and demands nothing except to be taken on their journey, as the personification of death which the young man protests but which the old man accepts.
There is much more to this film which reveals the old man's inner resourcefulness and watchful intelligence and which forces you to reassess the balance of sympathies between these two men. Still – no comfort is offered. The old man completes his journey with his son's assistance, which he does finally acknowledge, and he dies. When the son, seeking his missing father, discovers the mortuary at Mecca, he is taken by the custodian to view the unidentified bodies. There he finds his father. Once this identification is made, the custodian and the guard – both men – withdraw and the son is left to his devastating grief and abandonment, without support or comfort – the qualities which a mother might offer at such a time.
This is an uncompromising film that does not allow us to reach comforting conclusions. You cannot find the mother in such a man and seeking that is a vain and hopeless quest. What else is there? It seems to me that this question is one pertinent to this time.
The film opens with an encounter between the son of a Moroccan immigrant family and a slightly older man, the owner of a car breakers yard. The older man, who is from the same culture, demands respect and deference – something which the younger man refuses and which the older man patently does not deserve. This struggle between the business owner and the son, sets the contrast for what happens when the young man gets home.
He is met by his mother who scolds him for being so long and who is clearly caught between the son and his father – her husband – who has been waiting for the son's return. It is for her to express a protest that the son has kept his father waiting, the father does not voice such sentiments. He tells the son that his older brother has just been released from police custody, after driving whilst under the influence of alcohol. The brother will lose his licence. The youngest son therefore, will now have to drive his father from their home in France, to Mecca. They leave in the morning. This information is given to the son using not one word more than necessary and in a way which leaves no room for protest or even thought about whether this can happen. Tomorrow, they leave.
It is the old man's intention to complete the hajj before he dies. The following morning, he instructs his disgraced eldest son to take care of his mother and sister. Any goodbyes to his wife, must have already been made. Their relationship is one where whatever affection there might be is never on public display. And, indeed, there may be none. He leaves his wife as the English nobility left their country estates for the season: with all the 'staff' lined up to see them go. The son has voiced his protest to his mother. He is due to take his exams, exams which he has already failed and this is his last chance. He could leave the family, he tells her vehemently. But this threat is an empty one. There is no question that he is going to take his father to Mecca.
It is natural, in our tradition, for our sympathies to be with the son, although it should be born in mind that this would not be the case for many men – and perhaps also women – from the father's culture. At first, the film makes this easy. It is possible to see the father as a selfish tyrant, careless of his son's future, whose only interest is his own selfish pursuit of personal salvation. He cares nothing for his son or what he may be feeling. Indeed, when the son finally stages a protest during the journey, the father seeks him out – no mean thing since it means climbing to the top of a high hill, for this old and infirm man. He tells the son that he no longer needs him so, if the son does not want to continue, he can leave in the morning and the old man will make his own way from there. There is no affection in this statement, no acknowledgement of kinship, no regret at parting. You would talk this way to a stranger to whom there were no debts or outstanding ties. It may be that the old man was making this point about the son's behaviour.
The first point at which the film reveals that there are depths inside this old man is when, on some desert country road, an old woman stands hitching a lift. The son does not want to stop but the old man insists. When asked where she wants to go, the old woman points forward and says a word which the two men take to be a place name. But, on enquiring in the next town about the location of this place, no-one has ever heard of it. Still, the woman points forward saying the word, much to the son's increasing unease. It is possible to understand the old man's insistence on answering this woman's appeal as based on his recognition of the reality of another's desperation and this immediately undermines the confidence with which you have been able to dismiss him. It is also possible to understand this black-clad woman who does not speak and demands nothing except to be taken on their journey, as the personification of death which the young man protests but which the old man accepts.
There is much more to this film which reveals the old man's inner resourcefulness and watchful intelligence and which forces you to reassess the balance of sympathies between these two men. Still – no comfort is offered. The old man completes his journey with his son's assistance, which he does finally acknowledge, and he dies. When the son, seeking his missing father, discovers the mortuary at Mecca, he is taken by the custodian to view the unidentified bodies. There he finds his father. Once this identification is made, the custodian and the guard – both men – withdraw and the son is left to his devastating grief and abandonment, without support or comfort – the qualities which a mother might offer at such a time.
This is an uncompromising film that does not allow us to reach comforting conclusions. You cannot find the mother in such a man and seeking that is a vain and hopeless quest. What else is there? It seems to me that this question is one pertinent to this time.