Captain Abu Raed

Amman’s gotta do…

”He who chooses a humble life has guidance in his heart,” Abu Raed recites, a beautifully drawn, elderly airport janitor, to Nour, a female airplane pilot he one day meets going home from work. This well-read man lives on a hill overlooking the capital of Jordan. With his view of the big city and insights into real values, he thrills the neighbourhood kids with tales from all corners of the world.

His natural authority is boosted by his pilot cap (found in the garbage at the airport), an Eiffel Tower in miniature (given to him by a Frenchman) and a snow globe with New York buildings (given by Nour). The gullible children gape in admiration, but the sceptical Murad – who is given more clenched fists than open ones by his tyrannical father – mocks the others: ”Keep living in your fantasy world.”

The film is about dreams and reality, lies and truth, and the grey zones of the power of imagination and storytelling. (The film’s Frenchman – with the strange name Francois Trauffu – bears witness of the director’s humanist attitude.) Abu Raed keeps up oral storytelling traditions, whose communication demands neither sentimental slow motion nor pompous string music. ”I tell the kids stories. For fun,” he explains to the father of Tareq, who must sell sweets by the roadside instead of attending school.

This film bridges both generation and gender gaps. Through the independent and strong Nour character – the pilot who does not bow to the suitors obtained by her father – the story is anchored in a strongly feministic manner. Family traditions are clearly out of steps with cultural changes – and when the map does not fit the terrain, autopilot means catastrophe.

But the film portrays serious matters warmly, thus steadily easing its powerful pressure. jif