how to become a wolf
by Douglas Messerli
Naji Abu Nowar and Bassel Ghandour
(screenplay), Naji Abut Nowar (director) ذيب (Theeb) / 2014, USA 2015
Najai Abu Nowar’s Jordanian-made Theeb is a wonder—not only because it is
one of the few high-quality Arab films of the past few years—but primarily
because of its use of local,
The real joy of this film is the young figure, Jacar Eid, who plays the
central figure character. Director Abu Nowar admits that, at first, because of
his quietude and innate shyness, they did not even consider him for the role;
but when he appeared before the camera itself, they recognized his remarkable
presence, as he changed into an entirely other being. Seeing him before the
camera, there was no question of their casting him as the star.
In the film he comes off as a somewhat over-curious young boy, who is
eager to learn the traditions of his Bedouin culture, but, at the same time, is
sensitive to the meaning of what his actions might mean. He has difficulty, for
example, in slaughtering one of his family’s goats for dinner; he cannot quite
bring himself to kill the man, with gun in hand, who has killed his brother; he
is obviously tortured by the death, not only of his recently dead father but of
his own brother, whom he is forced to bury in the desert sand.
Theeb—whose name means Wolf—is anything but the pack-loving killer,
ready to destroy as some of his family members might previously have been to anyone
who intrudes upon their community’s space. He is an eager, engaged young boy,
seeking constantly to comprehend the
The younger son, quite understandably, is left behind. But his insistence
on being included—particularly given his intensely close relationship to his
brother Hussein, established so effectively in the early scenes of the film—determines
that Theeb will follow after, meeting up with the group a day later. Since the
Englishman is insistent on immediately moving forward, the child, despite their
deep reservations, is included in the voyage, a decision which will involve him
in a series of increasingly dire circumstances.
At the appointed well, they perceive their soldier friends have not yet
arrived, only to discover they have already been murdered and thrown into the
well itself, allowing them no relief from their thirst or possible escape; they
are already being watched. The crazy Englishman, clearly determined to stroll
“out in the noonday sun,” and bit like a very unromantic Lawrence of Arabia,
dismisses the two brothers, as he insists on moving ever forward to find his
own troops.
Hussein, the caring guide, realizes that, without him, they will never
find the next well, and follows then with Theeb in tow, despite their rejection
of his services. They discover the next well, but, although it remains
untainted, they are there attacked, with both Edward and Marji being
immediately killed.
Hussein, with Theeb, retreats to the higher mountains, killing some of
the bandits; but, as night comes upon them, they are seemingly surrounded, and,
as in old fashioned American Westerns, they are taunted by their assailants, who
threaten to kill their camels (their only method of escaping) and themselves.
Although Hussein comforts his younger
brother (“Don’t listen to them.”), he is totally aware of the situation and
advises his younger brother to climb even higher into the mountains if the
worse happens. But when the villains actually attack, there is no way for
escape: they kill Hussein, and Theeb is forced into the open, accidently
stumbling into the dark depths of the well and possibly drowning.
In fact, the young actor, could not
swim, and the director and others had to teach him how swim in order that he
might survive the actual filming; even worse, the scene, which did not work the
first time round, had to be reshot later, when Jacar had recut his hair for his
attendance at a local military school. Replacing his original “hairdo” with a
wig, he reshot the film, very convincingly, crawling out of the well only to
face the man who had killed his brother and who has tried to destroy him: Hassan
Mutlag Al-Maraiyeh.
That individual has been seriously shot
in the leg, just barely surviving. The boy is quite understandably terrorized
by him, but he and his previous enemy have no way of surviving without each
other, and they gradually form a kind of truce, where Theeb helps the killer in
return for food and a possible way out of his own desert death.
They both survive, and eventually reach the Turkish-run train station at
Daba. But there, when Theeb observes Hassan simply selling the goods he has
stolen from the murdered Englishman for a few silver coins—even being himself
offered a single coin by the Turkish officer—he suddenly comes alive as a moral
figure, shedding all of his childish innocence. As Hassam exits the station
with his few silver tokens, the boy, with gun in hand, finally has the courage
to kill him, reporting to the Turkish officers simply that the man had killed
his own brother.
As in any American western, justice has
been achieved. But, in this case, one can only ask, at what cost? Theeb has not
only learned that the western-built railroads have, in part, destroyed his own
culture’s major financial source of income, but that the disaffected men of his
own world have turned against their own kind. The values of his own family, an
apparently highly respected tribe, have been destroyed by the Turks, the
warring English, and disaffected Bedouins simultaneously. Although he evidently
returns “home,” it is clear that he no longer will have a safe haven to which
to return. The young innocent the movie has so brilliantly revealed in the
young Eid’s curious actions, has proven, as Edward has warned him time and
again as the boy attempts to open the bombing detonation box he carries with
him, are more than dangerous: they can, and already have, destroyed everyone’s
life.
Although this film won many international awards, I truly wish such a
perceptive and profound Arab-made film might have received the American Academy
Award for which it had been nominated. It might have gone a long way to help US
citizens realize that culture’s own history and the fears and terrors it still
suffers.
Los Angeles, July 12, 2016
Reprinted from World Cinema Review (July 2016).
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