Inspired by Saudi writer, director and producer Ahd Kamel’s childhood, her nostalgic coming-of-age story “Me and My Driver” is set against the backdrop of Jeddah in the 1980s and 1990s, and traces the relationship between a rebellious girl and her Sudanese driver. Her wealthy family hires her as a driver. A more conventional-looking and less engaging watch than Wadjda (2012), the Saudi picture to which it is sure to be compared and in which Kamel had a major acting role, The Driver lacks the compelling struggle against constraints that the director portrays. Haifa Al Mansour’s previous movie.
In fact, where “Wajda” was sour, “Driver” was so sweet to the point of sentimentality. Despite some sad circumstances, how easy and wonderful everything is for the central family and their staff is somewhat unbelievable. However, more shows are likely to be screened at festivals, and the drama will be widely disseminated in Arabic-speaking regions through pay TV and Dubai-based streaming service OSN+.
Salma, a smart and mischievous only child (Tara Al-Hakim as a girl, Rula Dakhil Allah as a teen) grows up in a spacious, well-appointed villa with her busy businessman father (Qusay Khadr) who pampers her with stacks of cassette tapes from his house. An international traveler and a strict, migraine-prone mother (Rana Alimuddin), she is constantly raising money for Palestinian orphans. The family’s servants, who live happily in the on-site servants’ quarters, include two Sudanese chauffeurs: Bakri (Amjad Abu El-Ela, director of the festival hit “You’ll Die at Twenty”), who has been with them for a long time, and the newly hired Qamar (Mustafa Shehata, star of the film Abu Al Alaa, is a sympathetic presence here.
Qamar, who left behind a wife and young daughter in Sudan, quickly takes on her new charge and eventually becomes her confidant, mentor, cheerleader, and co-conspirator. When the girl admitted she had wet her pants at school, he took her out for ice cream and made a “pinky promise” that he would teach her to drive one day. This pledge and shared dessert become motifs of their relationship that are repeated throughout the film.
After about 20 minutes, the event jumps forward about 10 years. Although women are not allowed to drive in Saudi Arabia, Salma pesters Qamar to teach her and let her drive on a remote vacant lot. Their secret, which her parents are sure to disprove, strengthens their bond. But when things go wrong, it is Qamar who has to pay the price; However, he does not betray Salma’s trust.
Qamar takes his responsibility towards Salma seriously, to the point of acting GuardianHe postponed visiting his family in Sudan, although he continued to send them gifts and cassette tapes. Although Salma’s father offers him extra leave and arranges his ticket, he prefers to remain under her supervision and contact her until she graduates from high school.
Although the screenplay often overloads the exposition with dialogue, especially early on, it also allows for some visual insight into the social and political constraints that stand in the way of teens like Selma meeting and mingling with the opposite sex. In one striking scene, Salma convinces Qamar to stop at a trendy ice cream parlor on her way home from school. While she waits cautiously in the female row, she glances winkingly at the attractive Walid (Mishaal Tamer) in the male row opposite. When they met at the counter, he gave her his phone number.
Salma and Loeb connect over their shared interest in Western music and talk on the phone until Qamar tries to break off the relationship, believing it is his job to preserve her modesty and reputation. Later, after Qamar confirms that she will not meet Paul, he discovers them in a chaste but precarious situation. Salma gets angry at his interference, so she utters some harsh and hurtful words.
The entire film is both an apology and a tribute to the man who was a constant and constant influence in her life. The respected shehata makes a strong impression when the driver painfully understands that raising a child who is not yours is like cultivating land that you do not own. Meanwhile, the two young actresses playing Salma are shining on screen. The technology aspect is surprisingly mundane, with Freida Marzouk’s visuals, which are usually more subtle, providing a bright, digital look.