‘Casablanca Beats’ Invites Us To Observe Moroccan Youth Culture: Review

Director Nayib Ayouch takes to the streets of Casablanca in this musical drama that offers an emotionally resonant insight into the Moroccan youth of today. 

★★★✰✰

In 2014, Franco-Morrocan director Nayib Ayouch helped to found a cultural centre in Sidi Moumen. The centre, Les Étoiles de Sidi Moumen, is ‘dedicated to training young people from the neighbourhood in the arts and performing arts, based on learning foreign languages and the rules of artistic dissemination’. Fast forward seven years, and the thriving “Bronx of Casablanca” is the focus of Ayouch’s newest film. Starring students from the centre, Casablanca Beats offers an emotionally resonant insight into the Moroccan youth of today.

In fact, Les Étoiles is central to the whole film. Not just in its casting, but in the fact that the story takes place there with the narrative drive coming from the lessons that these students learn. Retired rapper Anas (played by real life ex-rapper Anas Basbousi), arrives at the centre to teach, and meets with a class of young people who are frustrated at their lives and ready to express that creatively. Casablanca Beats follows these students as they explore their creativity alongside Anas, and prepare to perform a concert at the centre. Along the way, we see glimpses of their home lives and the countercultural nature of rapping in Morocco, as well as  encounter some of the typical tropes expected in classroom dramas (such as parents complaining about the teacher’s techniques). 

That being said, while a film of this nature could easily find itself retreading familiar ground, there is much to differentiate this from the likes of Dead Poet’s Society or School of Rock. Namely, the emphasis on the teacher and his impact is never as highlighted as the kids themselves. In fact, by the end of the film we are no more clued up on who Anas is and what exactly has led him to teach the students than we were when the film started. That’s not to say there isn’t development in his relationship with the students, but it’s refreshing to see that this isn’t all Ayouch’s film has to communicate. 

In fact, Casablanca Beats is at its best in the moments where the students are performing their work, or simply sitting round debating the current socio-political climate. Anas rarely contributes to these conversations, other than one instance in which a debate about modesty leans towards hostility. Rather, he listens attentively observing so that he can understand the town better through the lens of its teenagers. In framing these scenes this way, Ayouch equally invites us to observe rather than comment; he offers us multiple interpretations of the current state of things in Sidi Moumen, but portrays each of these views as equally important, allowing the space for both pious and dissident voices. 

Where time is given to character backstory, it is always provided to the students rather than the teacher. We see one young rapper (Ismael Adouab) share a moment of freedom with his sister. We see one girl (Nouhaila Arif) avoid the gossip of the fellow residents in the home she lives, as she practices her attitude in the mirror. We see the day-to-day life of a student (Abdelilah Basbousi) who is actively practising Islam. We see another girl (Meryam Nekkach) stand up to her brother, by rapping about the rights of women. 

This act of observation is increased by the cinematography, which often chooses to use close-ups. The camera focuses on the hands of the students as they hold their raps, the fluidity of movement as they dance, or their eyes as they express something they still haven’t voiced. There is an intimacy, inviting us into the lives of these characters to share in their conflict and growth. It is also increased by its choice to use non-professional actors, many of whom are playing fictionalised iterations of themselves. This can make the line between drama and documentary feel a bit too close, but Ayouch is careful in his use of fictional elements to create some distance between the film and reality. For example, the employment of musical sequences, as characters break into their raps in moments of fantasy. Each of the students feel genuine and authentically like the youth of today, and that’s because they are. 

Their acting technique may not be refined, but there is a rawness to them that imbibes the film with life. In particular, this rawness pertains to their emotions: there is anger, and frustration, and the confusion of youth, pouring out of every one of these students. The director claimed that the film was birthed from “the desire to make a film to give voice to young people”, and by showcasing these real voices, he has achieved this. It helps that the raps are catchy, continuing the observational nature of the film through their lyrics. They get a bit repetitive once you’ve heard each of them at least three times, but Mike and Fabien Kourtzer’s soundtrack captures the heart of the film perfectly. 

Narratively, the film forgoes a clear plot, choosing to opt for a meandering waltz through these characters’ lives and musical ambitions, which is likely to divide audiences. The concert scenes should feel like a climax, particularly due to the riots they cause outside the centre, but the energy level of the film remains the same throughout, lacking a build-up to that moment. Even the aftermath feels like it sort of just happens, rather than an emotional resolution leading us there. However, the final scene sees the students declaring through rap that they are the ones who will lead Sidi Moumen into the future, and you can’t help but smile along with Anas as he drives away. 

The Verdict

Its naturalistic approach means that it sometimes lacks narrative cohesion, but Casablanca Beats has all of the heart and fervour of the youth it seeks to give voice to. As a work of observation, it is warm, inviting, and genuinely joyful.

Words by Rehana Nurmahi

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