Baghdadi does a beautiful job of presenting Slave to Sirens both as relatable young people and Middle Eastern women navigating the constant threat of oppression. She balances these themes, careful to never isolate or otherize her subjects. Rather, she lets the reality of daily life inform their individual choices and struggles.
Baghdadi spends a great deal of time on Mayassi, who teaches music at a primary school by day and lives on the outskirts of Beirut with her mother and younger brother. The film includes a number of interactions between Mayassi and her mom, who share a warm, humorous relationship underpinned with tension. Mayassi wants to move out, but her mother will not have it, citing the tradition that a daughter only leaves her mother once she is married and bearing children. Mayassi, who conceals her queer identity from her family, challenges the custom. What era is this? she asks. Youre talking like its the 1960s, when your mother had so many kids, they didnt even know each other. People would marry based on a photograph. Her mother, a quick-witted stoic, retorts: Now people are getting married over the internet. So you mean life has evolved?
Traces of news broadcasts act as foreboding narrators during these domestic vignettes. During one, Mayassi sits in her family living room as the voice of an anchor seeps from the TV: Article 534 of the law is vague. It says that any sexual relation contradictory to the laws of nature is punishable up to one year in prison. Later on, Mayassi and her mom tune into a report about local band Mashrou Leila, who were targeted by religious authorities and sent death threats for publicly supporting gay and transgender rights. Mayassi, downtrodden following Slave to Sirens lackluster reception at Glastonbury, stares wordlessly at the television set, perhaps imagining a bleak future for her band, and for herself as a queer woman in Lebanon. Across the room, a look of icy concern spreads across her mothers face.
The scene is subtle but integral. In a few frames, Baghdadi captures the independent fears of a mother and daughter, both emanating from political censorship but manifesting in distinct nightmares. The elder Mayassi dreads the loss of her daughter; Lilas fears the obliteration of her very being. In the next scene, members of the band are notified of a show cancellationthe venue cannot host metal groups, a common roadblock in a country that once banned albums by Metallica and Nirvana. I dont think theres actual freedom of expression in Lebanon, Mayassi says at one point. I would go online and check our videos, and people would call us sluts or whores Anytime a woman wants to be anything other than what society wants, its always an issue.
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