‘Perfumed with Mint’ Review: From Egypt’s Arab Spring Muhammed Hamdy’s Striking Debut of a Wounded Generation Was Born | TIFF

In 2011, Egyptians dreamt of change, social justice and an end to decades-long corruption. The January 25th revolution, led primarily by the younger generation was a beacon of hope to millions. But what seemed like a final exit from the dark ages has only ushered the country to a far worse future – a future where dreams are a thing of the past and hopes for a better country have all but faded in the distance. The older generation of Egyptians who have become accustomed to a hopeless country were able to adjust to the realities of a failed revolution – but it is the younger generation that has suffered the most. 

In his striking feature debut, after several years of working as an acclaimed cinematographer on such films as Jihane Noujaim’s Oscar-nominated doc The Square, Muhammed Hamdy makes quite the leap to feature filmmaking with a film that almost is non-narrative but nonetheless a rousing, and surely unforgettable, viewing experience. It is ironic though, and perhaps very telling, that those of whom the film speaks will never get to watch it as it is unlikely it ever passes local censorship with its scathing political critiques. International film festival success is likely, although those unfamiliar with the happenings in the Middle East may not fully connect with it – the film gives very little context to viewers unaware of the political state of affairs in Egypt – and the long takes, deliberate long takes and sparse dialogue will test the patience of restless viewers hoping for a more straightforward narrative. But those willing to embark on this unusual journey will surely be rewarded.

One of the very few dystopian films in the history of Egyptian cinema, Hamdy takes us to the near future. Cairo has become a ghost town, with most of its residents already gone. The streets are empty, with an eerie silence that reeks of death and abandonment, a silence that is only broken by whispers strangely emerging from mint plants. We’re then taken to a remote clinic, its best days clearly behind it, in which a 30-something doctor (Alaa El Din Hamada) is waiting for his next patient. A grieving mother arrives, asking him to help relieve her from ever-growing pain. Her son won’t permanently die, she explains, and his several deaths are haunting her on a daily basis. 

The next patient is Bahaa’s old friend, Mahdy (Mahdy Abo Bahat), whose curls are growing mint, a sign that he is well on his way to losing his human form and turning into a full blown plant. The only solution to stop that is to consume hash – it relieves the pain and agony by helping the mint-sprouting patient to forget his memories, most of them traumatic, even if for a short while until the next joint. Bahaa, having given most of his stash to his previous patients, runs out and the two old friends embark on a journey to find more hash. They visit old friends, some of whom had already turned into full-blown mint plants, hoping to secure more drugs to help them forget. 

Much of the film is spent on this journey, as we get to see what has become of a once-vibrant generation that had a dream. Every character the duo meets is a walking dead, a ghost of what they once were. Not all of them have yet turned into plants, but they all have sprouts in their bodies, on their way to lose what’s left of their bodies and souls. But there’s one thing they don’t lose is their voice – they remain able to speak after the transition; even though what they speak is a repetitive set of words that reflect the traumas that led them there. Even after losing everything, they are still unable to lose their memory, and their traumas live on and persevere far longer than their human organs. It is a reflection of how pain endures and lingers; and how succumbing to it can be far easier than mustering any energy to overcome it.

With his immaculate visual sense, Hamdy fills the film with stunning atmospheric shots of haunted houses with speaking minting plants, the abandoned streets and alleys that were once alive, the ruins of buildings that were once functional, all work superbly to convey an agonizing sense of decay. It all feels very poetic and heartbreaking and the masterful final shot captures the film’s themes beautifully and ends it on quite a high note.

A challenging, contemplative film that may not be for everyone but remains a unique, provocative and haunting piece of cinema that is hard to forget. 

Grade: B+

This review is from the 2024 Toronto International Film Festival. There is no U.S. distribution for Perfumed with Mint at this time.