As I Open My Eyes

As I Open My Eyes

When Bouzid’s “As I Open My Eyes” was made by a young Arab woman who reflected on her experiences in Tunisia during the lead-up to the Arab Spring (or Jasmine Revolution as it was called there), it became one of the few examples of this very familiar type that made its way into American cinemas. But interesting and noteworthy as this political/cultural dimension may be, it also makes for an odd two in one movie.

For most of its length, “As I Open My Eyes” is like one of those coming-of-age tales with Tunisian characters but set in what feels like standard French territory (Bouzid studied filmmaking in Paris and French literature at the Sorbonne). Then, in the last act, political paranoia and revolutionary ferment suddenly crash into Farah’s story, and another sort of film takes over.

But while it’s easy to see why so many young first-time filmmakers are drawn to stories about growing up under repressive regimes they’re invariably dramatic and formative periods! their movies often have too much plot for a slice of life style. That’s definitely true here: The ’80s punk scene, teenage rebellion against stifling authorities (both parental and governmental) are all rich subjects that Bouzid touches on during Farah’s long hot summer; she has also fallen love with Borhène an older man who leads band which brings up issues like sexual liberation vs conservatism within Islam or how far should someone go when following dreams against society expectations?

It was only in the last five minutes of As I Open My Eyes did we realize that these were just some subplots thrown together without any real coherence between them but still managed not bore viewers into submission.

Unsurprisingly, Farah does not spend much time with her mother but rather with the band and Bohrène. The band, which plays songs by Iraq’s Khyam Allami, seems to be doing well, just as Farah’s first love affair may be described as promising. This passion is new and very exciting. She kicks off the sheet from Bohrène after sex, saying that she wants to see what a man’s penis looks like (one wonders if this scene could be shown in Tunisia or if it betrays the film’s being made for foreign viewers).

Curiously enough, there is next to no talk of religion in the movie. For that matter, politics come into the story only obliquely and then later on. It seems we are supposed to take it that the music of the band and Farah’s lyrics have something of protest about them; however this registers merely as generalized frustration or discontent.

I was in Tunisia when depicted by this film and can recall repressive atmosphere along with ubiquitous surveillance that preceded popular uprising against dictator Ben Ali and his flight into exile. But again politics are hardly discussed at all throughout the entire film. This element enters only during last act where one member starts suspecting that another might be working for police; also when state security apparatus swallows up Farah into its Kafkaesque maw.

The latter event gives rise to two strongest scenes in Bouzid’s movie: one where mom takes daughter through crowded bus station buys intercity ticket then loses track when goes buy drink never returns so franticly searches station for missing child has pulse Hitchcockian dread; other shows girl being interrogated by two cops done single take scary enough Gavras flick.

These moments show filmmaking talent Bouzid has got real strong acting performances out newcomer Medhaffer (Farah) Benali (mother); when these two are on fire at climax story makes you wish someone had made her jettison all coming of age cliches and focus whole damn thing on what is most interesting about it anyway, latent political thriller that makes last third so much better than everything else.

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