La bicicletta verde

¨You won't be able to have children if you ride a bike.¨

Wadjda is a beautiful yet simple film about a young girl who is willing to break society's boundaries and traditions in order to achieve her goal. In a sense it plays out as a metaphor considering Wadjda is the first feature film from Saudi Arabia which happens to be directed by a female. In a culture where women aren't allowed to speak up to men or even to drive a vehicle, Haifaa Al-Mansour has found a way to share her voice with the world through cinema. That is groundbreaking on its own considering that Saudi Arabia doesn't even have a film industry and that women are very much tied up to the limitations that their society puts on them. Al- Mansour, who also wrote the screenplay, gets her message across in a simple manner without trying to be judgmental or harsh on her culture. It is through the eyes of this 10 year old girl that we see how difficult the culture is on women. Not being allowed to ride a bike for fear that she could lose her virtue and purity plays out as a metaphor as to the limitations females face in these countries. I'm pretty sure that we all agree with Al-Mansour's viewpoints here in the west, but it is a shame that this film won't be seen by the people who really should see this film, the Saudis. It may be a familiar tale to us (it has all the known elements of a classic underdog story), but it works thanks to a wonderful performance from the young Waad Mohammed who plays a character we all can identify and relate to. Wadjda is worth seeing for the historical significance it has for females in Islamic countries who are trying to get their voice heard.

Wadjda (Waad Mohammed) is a ten year old girl from Saudi Arabia who lives with her mother (Reem Abdullah) in Riyadh. She's from a very conservative society where women have to cover their hair around men, but she is a very lovable girl who's always pushing the boundaries to her limitations. When one of the boys (Abdullrahman Al Gohani) begins teasing her and outruns her on his bike, she promises that she will buy one to race him and beat him. She sees a beautiful green bike on sale and since her mother doesn't give her the money because she considers girls shouldn't ride bikes, Wadjda decides to raise the money herself. The perfect opportunity presents itself when director Ms. Hussa (Ahd) offers prize money for the winner of a Koran recitation competition at her school. Wadjda begins to dedicate her time and efforts to this competition, while her mother is worried about trying to convince her husband (Sultan Al Assaf) to stay with her and not get remarried. Wadjda is dedicated to achieving her goal despite the limitations presented by the people around her.

The young and talented Waad Mohammed stands out in this film with a heartfelt and lovable performance. It is a simple tale and one we've seen many times in the past with the exception that this film is told by someone who has been facing those very same limitations. Some universal themes about the human spirit and the power of the will are portrayed nicely in this film through the eyes and smile of Waad Mohammaed. Director, Al-Mansour, also gives us glimpses of the limitations women have to face through very small scenes and moments. There is a scene where Wadjda's mother is shopping for a dress and she tries on a beautiful red one and you can't help but wonder what a waste it is considering she can only wear it at home for her husband. She covers herself completely when there is a man around. She also spends so much time fixing her hair, only to cover it until her husband who sometimes doesn't show up in days can appreciate it. Al-Mansour presents these scenes without being judgmental, but they come through very well. Wadjda, like us, doesn't seem to understand all this and won't conform to those boundaries, which is the director's way of sharing her hope for a brighter future for these women. Maybe if there were more determined girls like Wadjda they could break through some of those boundaries and limitations and have some more freedom. The film is full of hope like the main character and it is one worth seeing.

10-year-old Wadjda lives in Saudi Arabia. She's a bit rebellious, which means she wears basket shoes in school, listens to Western rock at home and has befriended a boy her own age. But she mustn't sing too loud, because the men can hear her and get offended.

Wadjda wants to go further and have her own bicycle, which invites trouble in her country. The story is told in a very warm way and you learn one thing. People in cultures totally different from yours are very much like you.

Realism here. Everyday people having everyday problems, but not the problems you have. A humanistic film, which makes it concerning everybody.

WADJDA is a straightforward tale of a young girl Wadjda (Waad Mohammed) growing up in a suburb of Riyadh, Saudi Arabia, who wants to buy a bicycle. Unable to find the money to do so, she enters a competition to speak the Koran in public with a substantial cash prize. After considerable time spent studying the text, she wins the competition, but sadly doesn't receive the money. In the end, however, she achieves her dreams - but not in the way she expects. Haifaa Al-Mansour's film is noteworthy for being a woman's film directed by a woman; it shows in careful detail the ways in which women's lives are constructed in Saudi Arabia, as well as showing how influential the Koran is in determining people's behavior. Some viewers might think that the women's lives are unfairly restricted; the film suggests that this is what many women believe is the right thing to do. By doing so, WADJDA shows how different people embraces different concepts of Islam. On the other hand, the film also suggests that individuals - especially children - should have at least some means to express themselves, particularly when they have worked to hard to achieve their aims. To restrict them is also to repress them; and this ultimately leads them to accept subordination as a way of life. WADJDA proves that the opposite should be true; not only for Wadjda herself but also for her mother (Reem Abdullah).

We went to see this as a family, with our two daughters, 14 and 16. We all enjoyed it. Seeing how the limitations placed on women in Saudi Arabia play out in everyday life was of great interest to all of us. The story line depicted not only Wadjda's efforts to break free from her circumscribed world, but also how adult women struggle to survive. The effort to simply support oneself without a man when one can't even drive or wear clothes that allow for mobility reflects how rules ostensibly meant to "protect" women keep them dependent on men for the most rudimentary basics.

I suspect that even this film does not depict the lives of women in Saudi Arabia completely accurately. Some concessions seem to have been made to the government. No religious police are to be seen, for example. Nonetheless, it is well worth seeing, and we applaud Haifaa al-Mansour for making it. We look forward to her future work.

The total lack of films that come out of Saudi Arabia made Wadjda, a Saudi film by Haiffa Al- Mansour, instantly alluring. Haiffa Al-Mansour is already accredited as being the first successful woman filmmaker in Saudi Arabia's history.

This is very much Al- Mansour's film. She charms the viewer with the common everyday struggles of the Saudi woman, and rather than address the issues in a combative way, her approach is warm, even cute. This draws us in to her characters and provides us with some heartfelt laughs along the way.

The precocious 10-year Wadjda is growing up in Riyadh where she wants nothing more than a shiny new bicycle, but not only is she a little short on riyals, in Saudi Arabia women do not to ride bicycles. Saudi moral code bans woman from driving, going out in public unveiled, living unaccompanied, leaving the country alone, and opposing their husbands' orders in any way.

Small details make grand impressions: In an all girls school teenage students paint their toenails, a sin, and are publicly vilified for it. The mere possibly that workmen half a mile away might see school girls playing in their courtyard forces all the girls to rush inside, lest they be judged impure. Pubescent girls are considered impure and must use a tissue just flip the pages of Koran.

Wadjad's truly beautiful mother spends much of her time perfecting her appearance only then to have to then cover herself with a full hijab. She is never openly defiant; defiance is impossible, but even thought she is obeying age old traditions that we'd assume would have dulled any emotional protest, through the mother's submission we get a brief glimpse of her distress, the natural human emotional distress that no amount of "aged tradition" or religious subjugation has the right to inflict on any human being.

In a country where cinemas are banned, Riyadh is not exactly a city where women can just go around shooting films. Females mixing with male co-workers would bring dire consequences. Al-Mansour shot the film anyway, directing much of it from the back of a van, and the result is a film representing the triumph of the defiant feminine spirit, in all forms.

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