Don’t we all appreciate children with some dreams? The ones that push their limits while we, their well-wishers, stand by the sidelines to cheer. Nadia Fall’s Brides is about two teenage girls who dream with wide eyes and are out to actualize those dreams. It’s just that we desperately want them to abort their plan and return home to safety in the UK. And what’s their dream? To join a terrorist outfit in Syria. Minutes into the film, they are already in Türkiye, awaiting their ‘guides’ to pick them up.
Doe (Ebada Hassan) is of Somali origin and Muna (Safiyya Ingar) has roots in Pakistan. We learn how ideas were planted in their heads, pushing them to flee the security of their families. Doe has a loving mother whose progressive choices trouble her. Muna, on the other hand, does not seem to hold particular affection for her family. The film does not give her that arc. She becomes the enforcer, determined to ensure they reach Syria.
Doe appears more radicalised than Muna, largely because we see her context. Muna is not shown as an equally staunch believer. She never wears the hijab, yet is obsessed with keeping Doe away from her mother. Is the trip to Syria not just indoctrination but also an escape from a life she quietly detests? The lack of context in Muna’s case prevents us from understanding her psyche, which is a writing decision that goes against the film.
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Brides also shows, in brief episodes, how strong community networks can prevent vulnerable youngsters from slipping into dangerous influences. Through the bus station employee (Cemre Ebuzziya) who shelters the girls or the single father in the park, we see how religion is not the villain here. Mindset is. When Doe attributes a woman’s kindness to Islam, she is gently corrected. She would have helped anyone, not just a Muslim.
Inspired by the real-life disappearance of the Bethnal Green trio from the UK, Nadia Fall’s film becomes a staggering portrait of a nation’s rapidly shifting cultural landscape. It asks whether teenagers are more vulnerable to brainwashing in a multicultural setup where they are constantly reminded of their minority status. And what happens when cultural conflict begins at home? Doe, always in her hijab, is unsettled by her mother’s modern, blended life. The mother is loving, but Doe does not find her identity reflected in her.
What could have nurtured healthier ideas in Doe? How can immigrant children from conservative backgrounds balance integration with identity? Brides raises questions with urgency and leaves many for us to confront on our own.
Suhayla El-Bushra’s screenplay carries a lived-in texture and a layer of urgency, which the film’s superb leads (Hassan and Ingar) actualize with dexterity. That said, the film, at times, feels a bit too hurried to get somewhere, much like its leads. It could ideally have slowed down a little and looked back at the bigger picture, particularly Muna’s, so we could invest more in their dubious journey.
Among other interesting points it makes, Brides clarifies that radicalisation rarely begins with violence. It begins with loneliness, confusion and the wrong voice whispering at the right time. In an age where youth can be recruited into terror networks through a chat window, Brides stands out as necessary cinema.
Rating: ★★★ 1/2
Brides premiered at the 56th edition of the International Film Festival of India, Goa.
