‘Hajjan’ Review: Abu Bakr Shawky’s Follow-Up to ‘Yomeddine’ a Mostly Enjoyable Crowd Pleaser That Rings a Bit Hollow | Toronto

Egyptian-Austrian filmmaker Abu Bakr Shawky made quite the splash in 2018 with his debut feature film Yomeddine which became the first ever Egyptian debut film to compete for the Palme d’or at Cannes. A deeply emotional road movie of sorts, the film featured a leprosy colony resident who befriends a neglected kid and together with a donkey, they embark on a journey to Egypt’s southern cities looking for redemption and acceptance.

Five years later, Shawky returns with his sophomore film, this time set in a completely different setting and immersed in Arab culture, myths and folklore. With Hajjan, Shawky sets his sights on the Arabian desert, home to some of the world’s most skilled and determined camel racers. In the early moments of the film, Shawky, who co-wrote the film with Omar Shama and Mufarrij Almajfel, makes it clear that for such culture, camel racing holds far greater significance than simply winning or losing. It’s a sign of honor, social status and manhood, all associated with being able to be the first to cross the finish line, a remarkable feat that will elevate the winner to be a local hero whose achievements would never be erased from the history books.

Matar (Omar AlAtawi) is a young, energetic and determined boy who has a very special relationship with his camel, Hafira. More than a racing camel, Hafira is his friend, confidante and soulmate. When Matar’s brother undergoes a tragic accident which forces Matar to reexamine his life’s purpose. He sets off on a perilous journey to avenge his brother’s death and gain his own freedom. 

Entering the seemingly glamourous but inherently brutal, and often unfair, world of camel racing, Matar soon becomes a jockey and surprises everyone with his skills. Soon after, his camel Hafira becomes a hot commodity and is bought by one of the wealthiest locals who is eager to add the camel and its jockey to his racing team in hopes of qualifying to the nation’s Great Race, an extravagant, globally-followed camel racing event in which the winner earns Al Namoos, the highest social honor one could ever hope for. As Matar eventually discovers the man was behind his brother’s death,  things take darker turns and Matar must decide whether he is able to shake off revenge at the expense of his own freedom. 

Hajjan truly comes alive in its intense camel racing sequences, exquisitely executed with beautiful cinematography, editing and a particularly haunting score by Amine Bouhafa, who delivers here one of the most engrossing soundtracks of the year. The score is so enthralling that it compensates for the film’s several dreary, muted and frankly uninteresting moments and gives it the much-needed jolt whenever the camera goes back to the racing field, allowing us once again somewhat care about what’s happening on screen and root for Matar.

The problem for Hajjan is that it feels too corporate, as though it was a commissioned film to showcase Saudi’s beautiful desert and unique world of camel racing as an integral cultural component. Aside from the racing scenes, the film rings too hollow, with countless scenes featuring characters fantasizing about winning the race with little depth that gives the film very few moments to breathe. The coming-of-age element of the film, in which Matar explores and reexamines his identity and life’s purpose are all buried by repetitive scenes about the mechanics and dynamics of the race in a way that creates a serious issue of pacing and tone for the film. 

For every racing scene that brings it alive, the ultra-simplistic, bordering on shallow, interpretation of the story, on-the-nose dialogue, weak performances (including the main lead whose role required a much more emotive actor) and uninteresting subplots all weigh down the picture, creating a mixed experience that will most likely narrow the film’s prospects when it hits the international festival circuit. For all the beauty that the Arabian desert has to offer, the film wastes almost half its running time behind closed doors. But when the film goes back to the desert, the magic of the golden sands and haunting mountains, along with the terrific score, brings us back to watch and cheer.

Grade: C

This review is from the 2023 Toronto International Film Festival.