Shahada (2010)

Directed by: Burhan Qurbani | 88 minutes | drama | Actors: Carlo Ljubek, Jeremias Acheampong, Maryam Zaree, Marija Skaricic, Sergej Moya, Vedat Erincin, Anne Ratte-Polle, Nora Rim Abdel-Maksoud, Burak Yigit, Yolette Thomas, Alexandros Gehrckens, Gerdy Zint, Niklas Gerroldt, Julia Graf, Jacob Jensen, Vivian Kanner, Alina Manoukian, Ali Murtaza, Jürgen Nafti

The ‘Shahada’ in Islam means the testimony of faith that every Muslim must utter to show that he or she believes that there is no other god but Allah and that Muhammad is His prophet. This testimony of faith is seen as the most important of the five pillars on which Islam is founded. After all, without uttering the Shahada, the Muslim cannot be complete. Burhan Qurbani – a young German filmmaker with Afghan roots – uses the five pillars of Islam to present various stories of young Muslims in modern German society. He uses the pillars in his own way and divides the film into five chapters based on this: the journey, the devotion, the sacrifice, the self-sacrifice and the choice of the path. The patchwork of stories always fits into one of the pillars at some point, just as all human moral doubts and dilemmas can be found in religion. The problem, however, is that for the modern problems encountered by the young protagonists, based on their religious experience, no immediate solution can be found. And although pastor Vedat, as a tolerant and liberal imam, tries to teach young people not to follow the Quran to the letter but to learn boundaries and responsibilities themselves, this turns out to be easier said than done for all characters.

With his film, director Qurbani wanted to show all the different elements of contemporary Islam within a western society like the German one. Every possible problem that young Muslims may encounter is discussed. Unwanted pregnancy, illegal abortion pills, homosexuality, love affairs with non-Muslims, guilt, penance, drugs, fundamentalism and disagreements with parents; the list of miserable topics gets longer and longer. It is clear that Qurbani mainly uses the individual stories to tell an overarching story, perhaps fragmented, but also gripping. An additional consequence, however, is that none of the stories is really well developed. Despite excellent acting, the characters remain one-dimensional and barely touch. The story of the young Maryam, who severely condemns herself for her irresponsible lifestyle and in her confusion seeks refuge in fundamentalist Islam, is by far the best developed. The clashes with her loving but losing grip father Vedat provide few moments of real emotion. The stories of Sammi and Ismail lag behind in terms of level because their inner struggle is not shared enough with the viewer. The problems are obvious; they are likely to be convicted of homosexuality and adultery respectively. However, the film offers no ray of hope, no grip: neither in the religious nor in the secular.

Striking is the way in which all the main characters battle with their background, their doubts, their religion, their fellow man, their hopes and their dreams. None of the main characters laugh once in the entire 88 minutes. Not in the disco, where the film begins; not at home while eating; not at work where the Senegalese Sammi and the German Daniel meet and not in the relationship between Ismail and his wife and child. The only characters who giggle – albeit snidely – are the women in the prayer hall of Vedat’s mosque, as they talk about how they organize their lives as they see fit. Is Qurbani thereby suggesting that there is really nothing to laugh about for young Muslims in Western cities? If so, he shows no mercy; no way out. A message that is difficult to digest, in short. Another message may be found in the parallel theme of parents and children. Although the stories are about religion, the relationship between parent and child always plays an equally important role. Sammi is especially beaten mercilessly by his own mother when he confesses his homosexuality; Maryam finds her only support in her father but does not see him standing and Ismail can only really love his own son. His mistress Leyla confesses that she never wanted her – now deceased – unborn child and Maryam seeks refuge in an abortion. So there is plenty of conflict, in authority, between generation and between the old and the new. Although different readings can be drawn from this, the film remains compromised. Qurbani has offered enough food for thought with his impressive debut, but may take a little less hay with a next film.