RSS

Contact us

Wednesday 9 July 2008

Sister act

Caramel
PG, Key cities

Caramel is a lovely and engaging film and just what we all need right now. You may well ask: how do I know what you need? Have I canvassed your friends? Your family? Of course. And what they all say is: yes, this is just the sort of film you need right now. You may choose to see it, then again you may not — that is ultimately up to you — but after all the canvassing I’ve put in, don’t tell me I don’t know what you need. (You also need to cut down on the cheese, but we can save that for another day.)

This is a Lebanese film, set in Beirut, but there is no war and no mention of war, just as there are no bombs, no killings and no captives with bags over their heads and hands tied behind their backs. People are more than the wars they live through, or maybe they are less. Either way, they have feelings and experiences and yearnings that have nothing to do with whom their country hates, or who hates their country. This film is, basically, about five women who work at or frequent a beauty parlour. OK, as a device for getting women together away from men there is nothing new in this, and quite a lot that is old — Steel Magnolias; The Women; Beauty Shop — but this is no matter. Caramel is made with such a loving heart, and is so deeply felt that, here, the formula can take yet another outing. In fact, even if I’d taken the easy option, and hadn’t bothered to canvass your friends and family, I would still think it’s what you need right now.

It’s written and directed by Nadine Labaki, who herself plays Layale, the thirty-something daughter from a Christian family who should be off their hands, but is having an affair with a married man whom she knows will never leave his wife. Meanwhile, her Muslim co-workers have their own problems. Nisrine is about to get married but fears and dreads her wedding night: she is not a virgin. Rima is attracted to women and, in particular, one female client who has better hair than even Penelope Cruz. Another client is Jamale, a failed and still failing actress who fears age as if it were an oncoming train.

More articles from: Deborah Ross | this section

Print this article  |  Email to a friend  |  Permalink  |   Comment

Post this entry to:   del.icio.us | Digg | Newsvine | NowPublic | Reddit

Advertisement

Spectator Business | Apollo Magazine

Corporate | Advertising | Privacy | Terms

Spectator, 22 Old Queen Street, London, SW1H 9HP

All Articles and Content Copyright ©2008 by The Spectator | All Rights Reserved