Review of In A Whisper by Leyla Bouzid at the Berlin Film Festival by Rita Di Santo

In A Whisper is a compelling film in competition at this year’s Berlin Film Festival, exploring themes of identity, repression, and societal expectations.

Lilia, a Tunisian engineer residing in France, returns to her homeland for her uncle's funeral at the family's elegant home. As she listens to a conversation between her mother (Hiam Abbas) and her aunt (Feriel Chamari), Lilia uncovers unsettling details surrounding her uncle's death. Officially reported as a heart attack, the circumstances reveal a darker narrative: he was found naked, prompting questions that linger in the air.

Through whispered revelations, Lilia learns about her uncle Daly's concealed homosexuality—a truth erased and repressed within the confines of their bourgeois family. This familial backdrop reflects a broader societal mindset in Tunisia, where homosexuality is criminalized, leading to the arrest, torture, and imprisonment of those who dare to live openly. Director Leyla Bouzid, in her third film and as its screenwriter, returns to Tunisia, the setting of her debut A Peine j’ouvre Les Yeux (2022), which unfolded during the Tunisian revolution. Bouzid continues her exploration of how the political and social landscape shapes private lives, influencing beliefs, emotions, and expressions of sexuality.

And she does this once more through the lens of Lilia, deftly illuminating the often-painful transitions and fractures that accompany a life lived in pursuit of personal desire within a context that deems it unacceptable. In A Whisper, currently the standout title in the Berlin competition, serves as both a coming-of-age narrative and a testament to the multiplicity of femininity. It paints a vivid picture of a household dominated by women, fostering an ideal dialogue between generations, and contrasting worldviews, particularly evident in their relationships with themselves and the patriarchal structures they navigate, often tolerated for cultural reasons, as dictated by the demands of reality.

By addressing such a sensitive subject, Bouzid affirms her narrative prowess, placing the intricacies of gender relations, familial bonds, and the fragility of human connections at the forefront. The film's setting, a house reminiscent of the director's grandmother, encapsulates a world where untamed nature contrasts sharply with human control, mapping out a tapestry of lives woven with unspoken codes, sacrifices hidden behind closed doors, and the pervasive influence of the matriarch that extends to others, including Lilia's mother. Despite her choices, work, divorce, she remains ensnared in her surroundings.

The figure of Lilia's uncle is a haunting presence, caught between the trivialities of television quizzes and the oppressive expectations of marriage imposed by his mother, who forced him to abandon his true love. This narrative echoes the themes of Nouri's film, "Man of Ashes," a poignant tale from the 1980s about boys crushed by the weight of patriarchal violence, unable to articulate their pain except through rage and rejection of societal roles they could not embody.

The young gay and trans individuals Lilia encounters in the clandestine bars of Tunis, once frequented by her uncle, possess a different awareness yet remain in peril. "They want us dead," one of them declares, voicing the pervasive fear of police brutality and societal violence that cloaks their existence. This cultural system perpetuates a mentality that seeks to suppress rather than understand.

Lilia grapples with her own identity within this complex conflict, concealing a part of herself in Tunisia. In France, she has a partner, Alice, with whom she has shared her life, but she has never revealed this aspect of her identity to her mother. Caught between two worlds, Lilia faces a daunting choice: to continue the façade or to embrace her true self. Will she accept the hypocrisy of her family, or will she find the courage to be authentic? As the painful memory of her uncle's life intertwines with her daily reality, Lilia wrestles with the discomfort of expressing her feelings and the fear of hurting her mother, all while confronting the expectations of her family.

This movie serves as a poignant reflection of a society grappling with the complexities of identity, repression, and the struggle for acceptance amidst deeply ingrained cultural norms.

Mothers, daughters. It is another of the themes of the film (which Bouzid dedicates to his mother), but each element intertwines with the other, everything merges into a "political" being that represents life. It can be a gesture, it is the bodies of Alice and Lilia embracing, their losing and finding each other, creating a space that becomes a site of resistance. Is it so difficult to love each other? In A Whisper, in a low voice, instead becomes a cry. And a statement, even if in the widespread machismo towards women in Tunisia, female homosexuality is not even considered. In this movement of self-discovery and liberation, Bouzid accompanies the characters Lilia and the others with a touching sweetness; the discovery of a being is a hard-won achievement, it is a battle that, in feelings, in the everyday, in lived experience, seeks to create a possible place of.

Bouzid's film presents itself as a bold and profoundly human work, capable of investigating the complexities of relationships between mothers and daughters in a context of oppression and silence. The delicacy with which the themes of love and self-discovery are addressed, combined with an incisive critique of dominant machismo, gives the narrative a dimension of resistance. Bouzid's ability to intertwine the personal with the political creates a vibrant and touching picture, inviting the viewer to reflect on the daily challenges and small victories that characterize the lives of women in Tunisia. In a world where love can seem like an act of rebellion, the film reminds us that the search for a place of belonging and acceptance is a battle worth fighting.