On May 16, 2003, Morocco got "its" September 11. How naïve we were to think ourselves as untouchables, if anything the tragedy was a humbling lesson and Morocco's secret services could reinvent their methods in order to nip in the bud terrorist actions. Who needs to be as effective as the Mossad or Scotland Yard when any Moroccan can be a potential informant (an entire cell could be dismantled simply because the building's janitor found suspicious that one man living alone could buy so much bread at once). Anyway, the shock faded with time or switched to other cities such as Madrid in 2004 or London in 2005, what was left from the bombings were anecdotes such as "where were you when it happened?" "I thought it was fireworks".
Still, when I got a job and started enjoying Casablanca's nighttime, I often wondered what if it happened to me... I guess I'm lucky to never have been in the wrong place at the wrong time. But Nabil Ayouch's angle is interesting: adapting Mahi Binebine's "Stars of Sidi Moumen" novel, he exposes terrorists as those born in the wrong place at the wrong time. The place was Sidi Moumen, a Moroccan favela, the wrong time was the aftermath of September 11 that ignited a fire of anger in souls who kept their frustration for too long, and resentment is an excellent combustible.
His movie ends right before the explosion, because whatever happens after was a human tragedy written by statistics, Ayouch is digging deeper, within the psyche of a disillusioned unemployed kid, willing to kill and die. How he doesn't see his victims as innocent is the greatest trick extremism can operate on weak souls, but are their weakness to blame? Ayouch is interested in the human side of outcasts, humanity as vulnerability. In a way, terrorists are the first victims of terrorism. Ayouch doesn't side with them but in "Horses of God" he depicts a sort of life that was so hellish that only the existence of an afterlife for the 'righteous' ones could make it tolerable. People's opium.
The film opens with "City of God" (or Allah) vibes. Boys play football, Tarek aka Yachine is the goalkeeper. They could be my age, I was 12 in 1994. The colors are yellowish and bright, it's childhood, life... but what do they do for a living? Taking stuff from a dump (one of the biggest in the area) and then resell it. When Tarek and Nabil are teased by two kids for their closeness, Tarek's brother Habib come with an improvised chain-like weapon and bomb them with insults that would make an adult weep. Habib is the most resourceful and natural leader, his mother treats him like the man of the house. Indeed with one brother who's stuck to the same corner with an old transistor and a mentally challenged father, we gather that neither Habib or Tarek grew up with models to look up to.
In this time and place, if you didn't become a football player or got yourself on the other side of the Mediterranean sea, your only options were selling fruit or vegetables, being a mechanic or forgetting lost dreams through a certain Moroccan 'plant' to blend with tobacco. Tarek lacked prospects and his brother's magnetism but somehow manages to grow up as a reasonable (albeit irritable) man played by Abdelhakim Rachid, he's Nabil's best friend and is in love with one of the girls from the neighborhood.
Speaking of Nabil (Hamza Souidek), his family background consists of a mother who dances at weddings, which in Moroccan perception equals a prostitute. But never sugarcoating his material, in quite a gut-wrenching scene we see Nabil being abused by Habib... during the childhood part. I was perplex about that scene but I guess Ayouch wanted to show a certain reality about religious people: they have a shady past, some traumas or guilt-inducing factors to make up to. Many praying and dutiful Muslims I knew lead the kind of youths that make mine feel like priesthood.
Ultimately, Habib (Abdelilah Rachid) becomes a delinquent and ends up in jail after a police incident. Both Tarek and Nabil work as mechanic assistants and do quite well. In one of the film's most lighthearted scenes the two drive one of these popular Moroccan motorbikes to get to Rizlene. It's like the two friends riding their white horse in De Sica's "Shoeshine". But Tarek can't talk to her, she's chaperoned by her brother Fouad (Ahmed el-Idrissi Amrani) who'll eventually be part of the terrorist group. Things escalate at Habib's return. He's bearded, talks like a sect guru and the mother is so admirative of him she doesn't even notice the change. Tarek does and doesn't like it. But one incident gives the religious group the opportunity to 'get' them..
From his "Ali Zaoua" to "Much Loved", 'group power' has been a source of inspiration for Ayouch. Maybe that is the real clash of civilization, more than obscurantism vs modernity, it's about the group versus the individual: society encourages us to speak our voices, which Tarek does all along, until he just finds the so awaited inner peace in masculine bonding and collective prayers. But in an ironic twist, as the day of the attack approaches, it's Habib who got cold feet. It was interesting to have that particular insight, we tend to look at these criminals like brainwashed zombies, but how many wanted to leave but couldn't. As for Tarek, even the memory of Rizlene was swept off by the prospects of having plenty of them in the afterlife. Groups again.
"Horses of God" traces the uncompromising road toward that fateful night where kids playing football in Sidi Moumen "saw fireworks" in Casa. At that point, innocent people were dead... as for the terrorists, somehow they were dead already, their fates echoing that line from Alan Parker's "Mississippi Burning" I paraphrased in the title.
On May 16, it was Casablanca burning.
Still, when I got a job and started enjoying Casablanca's nighttime, I often wondered what if it happened to me... I guess I'm lucky to never have been in the wrong place at the wrong time. But Nabil Ayouch's angle is interesting: adapting Mahi Binebine's "Stars of Sidi Moumen" novel, he exposes terrorists as those born in the wrong place at the wrong time. The place was Sidi Moumen, a Moroccan favela, the wrong time was the aftermath of September 11 that ignited a fire of anger in souls who kept their frustration for too long, and resentment is an excellent combustible.
His movie ends right before the explosion, because whatever happens after was a human tragedy written by statistics, Ayouch is digging deeper, within the psyche of a disillusioned unemployed kid, willing to kill and die. How he doesn't see his victims as innocent is the greatest trick extremism can operate on weak souls, but are their weakness to blame? Ayouch is interested in the human side of outcasts, humanity as vulnerability. In a way, terrorists are the first victims of terrorism. Ayouch doesn't side with them but in "Horses of God" he depicts a sort of life that was so hellish that only the existence of an afterlife for the 'righteous' ones could make it tolerable. People's opium.
The film opens with "City of God" (or Allah) vibes. Boys play football, Tarek aka Yachine is the goalkeeper. They could be my age, I was 12 in 1994. The colors are yellowish and bright, it's childhood, life... but what do they do for a living? Taking stuff from a dump (one of the biggest in the area) and then resell it. When Tarek and Nabil are teased by two kids for their closeness, Tarek's brother Habib come with an improvised chain-like weapon and bomb them with insults that would make an adult weep. Habib is the most resourceful and natural leader, his mother treats him like the man of the house. Indeed with one brother who's stuck to the same corner with an old transistor and a mentally challenged father, we gather that neither Habib or Tarek grew up with models to look up to.
In this time and place, if you didn't become a football player or got yourself on the other side of the Mediterranean sea, your only options were selling fruit or vegetables, being a mechanic or forgetting lost dreams through a certain Moroccan 'plant' to blend with tobacco. Tarek lacked prospects and his brother's magnetism but somehow manages to grow up as a reasonable (albeit irritable) man played by Abdelhakim Rachid, he's Nabil's best friend and is in love with one of the girls from the neighborhood.
Speaking of Nabil (Hamza Souidek), his family background consists of a mother who dances at weddings, which in Moroccan perception equals a prostitute. But never sugarcoating his material, in quite a gut-wrenching scene we see Nabil being abused by Habib... during the childhood part. I was perplex about that scene but I guess Ayouch wanted to show a certain reality about religious people: they have a shady past, some traumas or guilt-inducing factors to make up to. Many praying and dutiful Muslims I knew lead the kind of youths that make mine feel like priesthood.
Ultimately, Habib (Abdelilah Rachid) becomes a delinquent and ends up in jail after a police incident. Both Tarek and Nabil work as mechanic assistants and do quite well. In one of the film's most lighthearted scenes the two drive one of these popular Moroccan motorbikes to get to Rizlene. It's like the two friends riding their white horse in De Sica's "Shoeshine". But Tarek can't talk to her, she's chaperoned by her brother Fouad (Ahmed el-Idrissi Amrani) who'll eventually be part of the terrorist group. Things escalate at Habib's return. He's bearded, talks like a sect guru and the mother is so admirative of him she doesn't even notice the change. Tarek does and doesn't like it. But one incident gives the religious group the opportunity to 'get' them..
From his "Ali Zaoua" to "Much Loved", 'group power' has been a source of inspiration for Ayouch. Maybe that is the real clash of civilization, more than obscurantism vs modernity, it's about the group versus the individual: society encourages us to speak our voices, which Tarek does all along, until he just finds the so awaited inner peace in masculine bonding and collective prayers. But in an ironic twist, as the day of the attack approaches, it's Habib who got cold feet. It was interesting to have that particular insight, we tend to look at these criminals like brainwashed zombies, but how many wanted to leave but couldn't. As for Tarek, even the memory of Rizlene was swept off by the prospects of having plenty of them in the afterlife. Groups again.
"Horses of God" traces the uncompromising road toward that fateful night where kids playing football in Sidi Moumen "saw fireworks" in Casa. At that point, innocent people were dead... as for the terrorists, somehow they were dead already, their fates echoing that line from Alan Parker's "Mississippi Burning" I paraphrased in the title.
On May 16, it was Casablanca burning.