El Houb

Saw El Houb and I have to say I've never been able to put myself into something so much. Everything was right down to the small details. Fahd who plays Karim has exceeded all expectations, really so good and great acting. Everything was right and I didn't have a moment when I thought I was watching a movie.

I want to thank you for giving the Moroccan queer community a voice.

And I know the struggles all too well.

Often our stories get lost, I have never felt so represented or understood in the media or anything until I saw El Houb.

You see your whole life flash by. The realization that you are not the only one dealing with the same struggles is a fact.

And of course every story is a different story and every situation is different. But you were so close that it gave me a sense of connection.

I sat in silence for several minutes afterwards. I was that impressed! What a beautiful film, the best in ages! Compliments to everyone, really great. Intimate and grand at the same time.

It feels liberating to no longer hide all our tears and sorrows. Funnily enough, you get sympathy for the parents simply because they act the way they act. Not in a way you can be proud of but with a lot of love. They also look for ways to protect their son and that makes them vulnerable. After all, Karim remains their son. I'm glad they aren't labeled as bad people. They sincerely have the best for us, even though we sometimes have different views.

This beautiful story has touched me so much that I realize that we are not always understood.. both in the queer community and in the Moroccan community.

All karim asks (for us too) is that little bit of empathy.

What I loved about the film is the fact that much of the dialogue between Karim, his parents and his little brother was spoken in Arabic (Derija). The authenticity is guaranteed and of high class. The closed door between them gives it a unique touch.

You can see that this film was made with love.

This is a poorly executed story about being gay in a different culture. The story is told in an unnecessarily complicated fashion, using lots of flashbacks to provide context. At times, the flashbacks just add confusion, other times they just seem irrelevant. The dialog is sparse and the camera work jerking and nausea inducing. The pace of the narrative as it unfolds is excruciatingly slow and after a while one has to bring the fast forward button into frequent use. The ending is very much of a letdown as it really adds little in the way of a payoff to the story. The audio is poor and one can only assume that the film is low budget. The film seems to focus on being art house rather than just telling a story clearly and succinctly. Overall, a disappointing experience.

What happens when enough is enough? For a closeted gay Moroccan man living in Amsterdam, spending his life constantly looking over his shoulder and dodging questions about marriage from his family and community have truly tried his patience. And, when his father accidently discovers him with his Ghanaian boyfriend, the incident sets off a firestorm with his parents and younger brother. But it also represents an opportunity to finally get things out in the open once and for all, a process where he symbolically locks himself in a closet in his family home and refuses to leave until the matter is resolved. Events unfold along thematic lines during the lockdown, told through tense conversations and augmented with flashbacks, surrealistic sequences and interactions with the protagonist's younger self, encounters that benefit both the elder self and his 10-year-old counterpart. This inventive storytelling approach unearths revelations that apply not only to the beleaguered son, but also to his other family members and his loving partner, who sets a courageous example by severing relations with his relatives when those relationships no longer work. Writer-director Shariff Nasr's debut narrative feature makes an impressive, albeit controversial, statement about knowing when to hold on and when to let go to tradition, culture and even ties to kindreds where those toxic bonds no longer serve us, regardless of the cause behind such dissolutions, but especially among those forced to endure intolerable conditions related to one's sexuality and lifestyle. The sequence of events may come across as somewhat meandering at times, but, given the confusion and frustration in play here, who's to say that one could remain completely rational when undergoing such as analysis. Any deficiencies in this are skillfully concealed by the picture's excellent cinematography and production design, as well as the superb performances of its fine ensemble cast. "El Houb" represents a noteworthy start for a filmmaker who obviously has much to offer, a career that I can't wait to see develop and unfold.

Karim uses the nobility and mischievousness he used in relating to his parents as a child as a last resort to deal with difficult issues in adulthood. It may seem desperate, and it is, but it is a brave thing to try. And that's what I find to be the differentiator in the film. The process of teaching the parents through a game where now they are all children and share their joys, nostalgia, whims and roles. Karim's persistence and patience are admirable because setting limits and teaching the family to love without prejudice can be one of the most difficult things to do.

It is also important to underline the complexity of the domestic sphere, where every open or closed door can drastically change the perception of family members and community life. Beyond the metaphors of coming out of the closet, it is relevant to show that not only the person has to go through this process of showing himself to the world as they are, but this affects everyone he knows and everyone has to live this process, which the film connects this personal journey and translates it also to the domestic physical space.

Really unique and amazing story, I love how they portray the homophobia in karim's family as sort of like a soft core homophobia where its not from a place of hate but from a place of anxiety brought on by lack of communication and fear. We can actually achieve a lot with open communication if only we can get through the initial difficulty of starting said communication.

I'm personally from a African background not morrocan though but enough to relate with the story especially with the communication bit and how Africans try their best to avoid certain discussions that are uncomfortable, and in my opinion it would do us a lot of good to change this rather than just sticking with a status quo.