domestic melodrama

Hairareb follows the relationship between Hairareb, a middle-aged farmer, and Innis, his new bride. As they begin to get comfortable with their new life together, the secrets behind their marriage and from their past lives roll out into the open, creating a whirlwind of trouble for their budding relationship. Can they weather the storm, or will they fall back to the mistakes they made in the past?

There’s a lot going on in the opening scenes of the movie. The opening scene shows a man riding a horse into the sunset accompanied by a loud soundtrack and voiceover like a Hollywood Western. It introduces us to Hairareb’s narrative voice. The next shows a young man unlocking a chest of someone’s mementos. It’s not clear whose mementos or how he’s related to them. The film doesn’t give too many clues in the next few scenes either as it jumps straight to Hairareb and Innis’ wedding. From there, the jumping back and forth stops for a while, until the film delves into the two main character’s past lives, which by this point at least, helps to clear up some of the confusion from the start of the film and provide a bit of character development. However, for the most part, Hairareb feels unfocused. The drought, relationships, character backstories, and life in rural Namibia are all sacrificed for the sake of creating domestic melodrama, leaving the film feeling pretty hollow.

As you’ll notice from the start, this is a domestic melodrama. The loud soundtrack and overwrought narrative voice give that away. The use of a narrator feels a bit unnecessary at times, as everything Hairareb says could be built into a more natural script. It feels like it has been included to cut corners in the character building and plot to advance the plot quicker. It’s also always full of writing that feels a bit overdone, especially when it’s read alongside an overbearing soundtrack that doesn’t leave anything to the imagination. The soundtrack also often gives away the direction of the scenes before they’re acted out. Upbeat musical interludes play a few scenes before the newlyweds are happy and the villains are given away before the reveals by the loud ominous soundtrack accompanying their face on screen. A little more subtlety may have created a bigger surprise for these reveals, however, viewers used to melodramas may not be as put off by these moments as it’s all part of the fun.

The language choices were also interesting. Whilst the film was mostly shot in English, there were some moments where the cast started speaking the indigenous Khoekhoe language. Presumably English was chosen for the film’s marketability abroad, but why not then just run the whole film in English for this reason? The Khoekhoegowab words seemed to be included randomly and not for certain characters or moments so it wasn’t clear why they were included. If the director wanted to include the language, it would have been great to have used Khoekhoe throughout the movie. I don’t believe it would have made much of a difference to the international audience viewing it and maybe the actors would have been more comfortable using it.

Overall, if you’re looking for a Namibian domestic melodrama, you’ve come to the right place. Every scene of Hairareb is filled with it, from the music to the relationship reveals. There’s also some beautifully framed shots of rural Namibia to showcase the landscape. However, if you’re not familiar with the domestic melodrama genre you’ll probably find this example overdone and lacking in substance.

Check back to our Pan African Film Festival 2022 page for more reviews coming out of the 30th edition of the festival.

Hulhudhaan Film Difficulty Ranking: 2

Hulhudhaan is a family drama that focuses on the perils of drug addiction. It features a recently retired father and his drug-addicted daughter that comes to him for money.

From: Maldives, Asia
Watch: YouTube, IMDb
Next: Hand of Fate, Where I Come From, Cargo

Hulhudhaan – Breakdown

Social issue cinema can be problematic. Focusing on trauma and suffering to generate a base emotional response is exploitative, especially without character development or context in the plot. When this happens in film, it resembles charity commercials, which show malnourished kids to emotionally exploit viewers into donating. It also simplifies complex issues into a quick fix problem + solution equations.

In the case of Hulhudhaan the social problem is Sama’s drug addiction, and the solution is her father’s love and forgiveness. Sama took up drugs because she didn’t get enough of her father’s attention in childhood, and she’s addicted because she doesn’t realize her father still loves her. This presents a happy and dangerously easy solution: love can overcome addiction. The problem with this is the simplification of the issue and solution. Not all addiction is due to a lack of love, and love isn’t the silver bullet for drug addiction.

The depiction of the two main characters is also a little problematic. Manik, the father, is portrayed humbly whilst his daughter, Sama, is shown to be fragile and in need of help. Manik’s respectability is shown through his work ethic (he remains at work throughout the day as other employees come in and out), his tidy apartment, and his religious devotion (he faithfully wakes up through the night for prayer). He appears to be trustworthy and honorable. As Sama doesn’t receive a similar level of character development, the audience naturally sympathizes with Manik, the more complete character. This makes it easy for the film to deliver the love as cure for addiction solution – particularly led by the trustworthy Manik in saving his fallen daughter. It feels like it’s directed at men to take care of their women (especially considering the happy ending).

What to Watch Next

If you liked Hulhudhaan and want to watch more films which deal with social problems, try Hand of Fate (arranged marriage), Cargo (immigration), Where I Come From (poverty).

Or for other films that depict drug addiction, try the entertaining world of Trainspotting or the brutally real world of In Vanda’s Room.