In her debut feature, Layla Kaylif tells a Cyrano-style tale in Old Dubai. It’s a film that introduces incredible fresh talent in the form of its leading man Eslam Al Kawarit, but occasionally loses its heart in the midst of its numerous themes.
★★★☆☆
When we think of Dubai, we immediately think of high-rises, luxury, wealth and tourism. So little is depicted on screen of the old Middle-Eastern architecture, the traditional market stalls, the community living that shaped and defined old Dubai. However, Layla Kaylif, a British-Emirati singer, songwriter, storyteller and now filmmaker, uses old Dubai as the centre of her romantic drama, The Letter Writer. First written in 2015, and earning Kaylif a IWC filmmaker award in Dubai, the film was made in 2018 and now finally makes its way to UK audiences this week via Amazon Prime.
Set in the 1960s, The Letter Writer follows Khalifa (Eslam Al Kawarit), a teenage boy who spends his summers earning money through writing letters on behalf of illiterate townspeople. He is encouraged by his teacher Mr Hassan (Shadi Baghdan) to practise writing in English more, but a sense of patriotism, enhanced by youthful laziness, makes the idea wholly unappealing. That is until local Indian tailor Mohammad (Muhammed Awir Nawaz) recruits Khalifa to write letters to his British paramour Elli (Rosy McEwen—before her breakout in Blue Jean).
From one picture alone, Khalifa is besotted, making a shrine to Miss Elli, as they call her, in his room and taking to the task with increased enthusiasm. His letters evolve from calling Elli the various names of chocolates from a selection box to quoting Emily Barrett Browning’s ‘Sonnet 43’. Mohammed, unaware that Khalifa is hijacking his letters with personal feelings, reminisces on his meet-cutes with Elli in Dubai—she’s the niece of the head British consulate in town, as well as dating one of the British military officials— in England, Elli contemplates her future after a proposal from her boyfriend Henry (Shane Dodd).
What seems like a standard Cyrano-type situation is completely redefined by the backdrop of the film. In being set in a British-ruled old Dubai, it cannot help but be political, with the main characters’ stances on the colonialist rule made clear. However, interest in Elli sparks a complete change in the impressionable young Khalifa’s attitude to the authorities. While his friends vandalise the British offices (encouraged by Mr Hassan), Khalifa suddenly is listening to Western music, basing his style of Doctor Zhivago and completely dropping local girl Noora (Marwa Al Hashimi) to pursue a classic English rose.
That being said, the plot feels incidentally political, rather than intentionally so. These characters are shaped by the society in which they inhabit, but while the narrative occasionally makes time for these issues, such as a subplot in which the British consul fires Mr Hassan for his radical views, they are not its primary concern.
The same can be said for many of the other themes and issues which the film hints at wanting to explore, but never fully commits to. There’s some interesting commentary on the relationship between Khalifa’s mother (played by the director, Layla Kaylif) and her children, exemplifying the major differences in how boys and girls are treated in the Middle East, and a subplot about a local family trying to keep a slave, who is freed and comes to live with Khalifa’s family. The film also touches on the connections between the colonies, including dialogue in Arabic, Farsi, Hindi and English.
While these are all well-intentioned and interesting glances into a culture that is widely unknown to Western audiences, Kaylif’s film doesn’t have the time to explore them all. This results in a film that has a number of half-baked ideas dropped all around its central plot. Along with a cast of relative newbies, working from a first-time filmmaker’s script, there is a sense of unrefined craft.
What redeems these flaws is the film’s sentimentality, and its willingness to bear its heart on its sleeve. In a line that is oft repeated in the film, a local poet says: “English is a stupid language; it only has one word for love.” Kaylif’s depiction of Arabic as a language of poetry is beautifully executed, and it is central to the film’s understanding and portrayal of love. It is only when he writes to Elli in Arabic that Khalifa is able to truly express what is in his heart, and it is this letter that has the biggest impact on Elli.
Also grounding the film is an incredible turn from Al Kawarit in the lead role, who imbibes Khalifa with truth and life. He is a believable teenage boy, and plays both the loveable and despicable parts of that identity with a charisma and tenderness that means you can’t help but root for him. He perfectly epitomises teenage infatuation, but also the self-righteousness of believing that it’s something so much bigger than just a crush. It’s a classic depiction of thinking you know everything when you’re young. In his interactions with his family, with his teacher, with his friend, he is the archetypal lead in every coming-of-age movie, but manages to bring a freshness to the role.
The Verdict
The Letter Writer is by no means a perfect film, but it’s a tender and sweet story that brings attention to a place and a time that we don’t often get to see in British-directed cinema. When it plays into the strength of its setting and its lead’s charm, it’s a cosy film that makes for an easy watch.
The Letter Writer is available to watch on Prime Video.
Words by Rehana Nurmahi
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