The cinematic universe of Jean-Pierre and Luc Dardenne is at once rigorously consistent and, in spite of its geographical limitations, endlessly expansive. The Dardennes, focusing their attention on working-class, French-speaking parts of Belgium, tell stories of individual ethical crises that unfold against a backdrop of poverty and social disruption. There is no end to such stories, and though they are linked by theme, setting and technique, each one is different — a fable of contemporary life that feels both specific and eternal.
Their latest parable, winner of the directing award at Cannes last year, is “Young Ahmed.” Its title character (Idir Ben Addi), present in nearly every shot, is a serious-minded — you might say nerdy — 13-year-old under the sway of a radical imam. This is something of a departure for the filmmakers, less because Ahmed is Muslim than because of the explicitly spiritual nature of his predicament.
While religious ideas of mercy, compassion and grace are often implicit in the Dardennes’ films, the immediate problems faced by their protagonists tend to involve work, money and other material concerns, rather than faith as such. The choices they face are often between selfishness and solidarity, between the brute demands of survival and the pull of deeper but less tangible obligations.
Ahmed, though, is driven by a different set of imperatives. With his sweet face and soft body, he hardly fits the stereotype of a terrorist, but his piety pulls him away from most of his family and toward violence. He disapproves of the wine his mother drinks and the clothes his sister wears, and refuses to shake hands with his after-school math tutor, a less outwardly devout Muslim named Inès (Myriem Akheddiou).
He spends his spare time at prayer and ablutions, at the imam’s modest madrasa, and on his laptop, where he watches videos about jihadist martyrs, including one of his cousins. When the imam, Youssouf (Othmane Moumen), accuses Inès of apostasy — for proposing an Arabic study group that would use secular texts, rather than the Quran — Ahmed takes the condemnation literally, with horrifying results.
The roots of Ahmed’s zeal are not explained. The viewer, as usual with the Dardennes, is plunged into his reality and trusted to gather essential information on the fly. Ben Addi is a quiet, inexpressive performer, and his blankness places Ahmed’s inner life firmly off limits. We can speculate that the soft-spoken, uncompromising Youssouf might have stepped into a void left by Ahmed’s absent father, or about how the boy might have found relief from the torments of adolescence in strict religious observance. But to interpret “Young Ahmed” in those ways would be to mistake it for (or fault it for failing to be) a psychological case study.
The plot may hinge on Ahmed’s actions and motivations, but the film’s real drama revolves around a central moral and political conflict, between religious extremism and a humanist ethos that is more behavioral than doctrinal. Ahmed’s narrow, austere, immature way of looking at the world is contrasted not with a rival set of beliefs, but with the patience of the people around him and the benevolence of the Belgian state.
Inès treats him kindly, and so do the guards and social workers at the juvenile detention center where he is sent after he attacks her with a knife. His social worker (Olivier Bonnaud) and the owners of the farm where he goes on work assignments are friendly and respectful of his religion. The infidel world seems as dedicated to his well-being as he is to its destruction.
This benevolence is an expression of the Dardennes’ stubborn humanist faith, and also of their commitment to the battered and resilient ideals of European social democracy. They don’t make excuses for their characters, including Ahmed, and they refuse to give up on anyone. That generosity, coupled with the unpretentious precision of their craft, is always moving, though in this case not entirely convincing.
“Young Ahmed” is suspenseful and economical, with a clear sense of what’s at stake, but something crucial — perhaps a deeper insight into the character or the contradictions that ensnare him — is missing. This film feels thinner and more schematic than Dardenne masterpieces like “Rosetta,” “L’Enfant” or “Two Days, One Night,” as if the story had been molded from a set of arguments and assumptions rather than chiseled from the hard stone of reality.
Young Ahmed
Not rated. In French and Arabic, with subtitles. Running time: 1 hour 30 minutes.
Source: Movies - nytimes.com
