Drei Frauen in Algier

The shifting of political power affects our lives more than anything else in the world. And being trapped between two ruthless forces and the shifting political powers makes it almost unbearable for characters of this touching movie. Being a women in Islamic world was always, to put it mildly, hard, but these days of increasing Islamic fundamentalism bring even more hardship. Algerian women must have it particularly hard after a long period of secularism and opportunities for carrier and fulfillment. " Viva Laldjerie" is a brave and concise movie that poses many questions. It doesn't give many answers, mostly because in the shaky times we live in, the outcome is unknown.

What a moving portrayal of the human struggle, and the very real costs of that struggle, that occurs for so many today as the result of the cultural schizophrenia in places like Algiers and throughout the Muslim world. Just as so many of the economic and technological benefits of Western culture have begun to penetrate these countries enough to affect the daily lives of most people, radical Islamists enter the scene en force as a reaction against the political ideas and social freedoms that so many also wish to participate in. And much of the ordinary population is caught up in the confusing and dangerous middle ground.

Each of the four primary female characters in this film embody the split personality that *is* the Muslim world today. Each one navigating between desires and ambitions born from her sense that it is permissible to dream of freedom and happiness--however that is symbolically represented for her in her visions of a self-defined destiny...............yet each also struggles against the curbs placed on that freedom and self-determination by the culturally-shrinking society that surrounds her.

In the film this is wonderfully portrayed in the stark difference between the public and the private spaces in which the characters function. This is most obvious in the costuming, as the women cover themselves completely whenever they go "out" (ironically, making them anything but "out") and uncover when they are inside. But this difference is also portrayed in the interaction between the main characters themselves, as though the traditional clothing in which they are hidden also creates a wall between them--and it is only inside, when they have taken off those coverings, that they can relate on an intimate level.

There are crucial - and painful - moments of crisis in the film when these separations break down: bringing the psychic walls of coveredness into the private realm, or being exposed and uncovered in the public realm. And in these moments, we see that things start to break down in the lives of the characters. This also is a continuation of the metaphor: for those living in the schizophrenia of the Muslim world today, who attempt individually and societally to simply put the modern Western world in one compartment and the tug of Islamist fundamentalism in another, who attempt to simply switch costumes while going from one to the other -- such a way of living, such a way of being eventually has to break down.

The film does not attempt to resolve this problem, but merely to set it before us. On the way to its conclusion there is great tragedy, minor redemption, and a possibility of some vague hope. Let us also, as the audience, dare to posses some hope for a future resolution in the Muslim world.....one that does not take such a toll on the women who live their lives within it.

I just watched "Viva Laldjerie" at the Cine-Club in Algiers. The crisis of the 1990s took a heavy toll on Algerian cinema. Happily, the past couple of years have witnessed a re-emergence, of which Viva Laldjerie is an auspicious example. Set in the Algiers of today, the film tells the story of three women: Papicha, a former cabaret star who dreams of getting back into the business; her daughter, Goucem, an independent spirit working for a photographer and carrying on an affair with a married man she's beginning to suspect wants to leave her; and Fifi, a prostitute who thinks she's got it all under control now that she's found a powerful "protector." Director Moknèche's great achievement is to show how beyond the bright lights, bustling city streets and modern urban architecture there's the sense of a country, of a people, that feels spent and exhausted from the constant threat that the violence that crippled Algeria for almost a decade might once again return. Yet, as the stories of these three women show, resistance can take many forms. In response to previous comments, I am surprise of the level of ignorance of the Arab World. you can watch many different movies in Algeria. I have watched "Emmanual" in Oran The RAI music contains swearing and even blasphemous and you can hear it in chafes, bars etc..Just for your information Algeria is the first wine producer in the world after the Romans, it will help if you know a bit about the Arab culture, for example read about Abu Nawas and Al-Rubaiyat

I was curious about this film, as it's about several women in modern day Algeria. Unfortunately, the story itself never caught my interest--mostly because the film felt more like a dispassionate film made by a documentarian instead of a full-length story about people. The bottom line is that I didn't care about these people nor their seedy lives.

The film is about three women: Goucem, a very screwed up young lady who's been having an affair with a married man for three years, Papicha (Goucem's mother) who is an ex-prostitute and Fif who is currently a prostitute. Their problems and concerns never really registered with me.

What I found interesting about the film was actually not the story (I didn't like it at all) but the views into modern Algeria. Though a Muslim nation, I was surprised at the nudity (it was graphic) and the very secular nature of the characters and situations. It flies in the face of stereotypes of Muslim nations--giving us a fuller view of the various facets of life and attitudes. But this, unfortunately, was not enough. The story left me amazingly cold and bored.

This is the type of film that I would love to love. The cast are remarkable - Lubna Azabal and the actress that plays her mother in particular. The subject is a complete reversal of what one would expect of Algeria. It's also a film with very strong female roles. So in theory, everything is in place to make an explosive combination.

So why does it drag so much? "Viva" is curiously dispassionate, despite the best efforts of the cast. Longish midrange shots film the actor's movements, without letting us get into their heads. We understand what they are doing and why, without really becoming involved.

With a firmer hand, this could have been an explosive story, à la Almodovar. As it is, I get the feeling it's a great script and cast being put through the motions.

I also have to add a word about the highly distracting plinkety-plonk piano music that adds to the lethargic direction. I presume the director wanted to avoid Arabic music to avoid clichés. But puh-lease! This sounds like a low-budget auteur chamber soundtrack when what was needed was something to drive us towards the next scene.