Mo Harawe shares vision for Somali cinema and African representation at Cannes Festival

Mo Harawe shares vision for Somali cinema and African representation at Cannes Festival

Mo Harawe dives deeper into his personal journey of redefining the Somali narrative in an interview with The Deadline.

At this year's Cannes Film Festival, Mo Harawe enters the annals of history with his debut feature film, The Village Next to Paradise, premiering in the esteemed Un Certain Regard section.

This marks a milestone as the first Somali film to grace the Official Selection in the festival's 77-year legacy.

Hailing from Mogadishu, Harawe's journey to cinematic recognition began in Austria, where he pursued his passion for film at age 18. 

The Village Next to Paradise follows the impactful trajectory set by Harawe's previous shorts, such as Life on the Horn and Will My Parents Come to See Me, shedding light on pressing issues like environmental degradation and incarceration in Somalia.

Set against the backdrop of a weathered village on the Somali coast, the narrative centres on a single father's (Mamargade) relentless pursuit to provide a brighter future for his son, Cigaal. Joined by Araweelo, amidst her marital upheaval, they navigate the complexities of their world with love, trust, and resilience as their guiding forces.

Noteworthy is the debut of Somali actors Ahmed Ali Farah (Mamargade), Anab Ahmed Ibrahim (Araweelo), and Ahmed Mohamoud Salleban (Cigaal), who breathe life into characters seldom seen on the silver screen, offering audiences a glimpse into a Somalia rarely depicted in mainstream cinema.

Mo Harawe dives deeper into his personal journey of redefining the Somali narrative in an interview with The Deadline.

DEADLINE: How are you feeling about going to Cannes with your first feature film?

MO HARAWE: I think it's a great platform to share our feelings with a lot of people and to get the visibility that the film needs. I'm really looking forward to seeing the reaction of my exceptional crew when they see the film for the first time.

DEADLINE: After the short films Life on the Horn and Will My Parents Come to See Me, how was it moving into a feature?

HARAWE: It's completely different because, with short films, I had some kind of control in terms of writing, shooting, and editing in every sense. I could sense the rhythm of the film even while shooting. I would know what scene comes after what, and the shoot would only last eight or nine days max (maximum). You can see the end and the beginning, you know the energy, you know where the character will be.

With this film, we shot for three months, and every day was a different challenge. Although I wrote the script myself. In a feature, you think, this shot was from two months ago, and you have a lot of doubts about how to extend the same energy.

"The Village Next to Paradise" (Photo: Freibeuter Film)"The Village Next to Paradise" (Photo: Freibeuter Film)

"The Village Next to Paradise" (Photo: Freibeuter Film)

We didn't have a long pre-production period for this film, but in hindsight, that was a good thing because if we had, I don't know if we would have made the film at all. We would have seen how difficult it was going to be and I would have given up, maybe.

We shot it in Somalia, and for 70 per cent of the crew, it was their first time on a film set, so we took a bit more time to get them acclimated. We also had a lot of wind the whole time, which was good because it's a part of the film but that also made it challenging to handle equipment. The leads did amazingly, especially as people who had never been in front of a camera before. They never went to acting school, but they were professionals.

It was tough to spotlight so many different characters, though. Maybe next time I should have only one character.

DEADLINE: What are you hoping people will take away from The Village Next to Paradise?

HARAWE: I mean, not taking away anything from the film is also good. If someone leaves the cinema thinking, "Wow, I don't know what to think about that,"  that probably means it was quite deep or something [laugh]. Jokes aside, even if nobody thinks anything about the film, I hope they at least see honesty. We made the film with a lot of love and honesty.

During the years that I've been abroad, I've been asked a lot of times where I'm from. Whenever I say I'm from Somalia, they say, 'Oh!'. People have another picture of it in their minds. Out of all the other reasons I made this film, this was mainly about me trying to say, 'No, with all the challenges I had, there is a normal life out there', you know? That was the first motivation—me trying to reassure people about the other image they have. All others come after.

DEADLINE: All your work so far has been set in Somalia. How personal is your work and do you have plans to shoot elsewhere, say in Europe, given your Austrian connections?

HARAWE: Of course, whether it's a dialogue that I wrote somewhere or the ideas, there is always something inspired by my experience in all these films. Here and there are a few scenes that have happened to me but they are personal and I will keep them to myself. More than my personal experience, however, all my films are about the world that I lived in, which, at the end of the day, doesn't make much of a difference, because I am equally a part of that.

I haven't taken a decision to limit my storytelling to just Somalia. At the end of the day, emotions are universal. For the moment, it's just the question of whether I can contribute and take on the big responsibility of telling someone's story. If everything aligns, I would love to make films in other countries or about other people.

DEADLINE: What does the landscape look like for stories coming out of Somalia at the moment?

HARAWE: In the last few years, there have been small TV shows, and we have streaming but there's really no real film infrastructure in Somalia at all. Luckily, there are filmmakers who are coming out and trying to make films about Somalia. Two years ago, there was this film that was in Cannes called The Gravedigger's Wife by Khadar Ayderus Ahmed, who is a great filmmaker. There are a few filmmakers now who live here between Africa and Europe and are trying to make stories happen, so the future looks better for the Somali film industry, if I can call it that.

DEADLINE: And what is something about your country that you wish more people knew?

HARAWE: That's a difficult question because I don't know where to start. But it's also hard because I can't even say to just Google it – compared to other countries you'll get maybe 1 per cent of information, and 99 per cent of that would be from one perspective. Let me put it on a positive note and say, find out about Somalia's poetic side. Learn about our wonderful poetry [maanso and hees].

DEADLINE: There has been criticism about a lack of stories from the African continent in film festivals like Cannes. Do you think this is because of a lack of infrastructure, or could there be other reasons?

HARAWE: Africa is a big, big continent with over 50 countries. I am not in a position to talk about countries that I have never been to, say Namibia or something. All I know is that [the situation] must be too bad to not have films represented from that big, big, big, big continent with such rich traditional storytelling. Let me put it like this – I think it's not only down to having a lack of infrastructure. The continent is too big to [have such little representation] simply because of that. How many films come from Asia every year? From Europe, from America? Let's say there are 500 films coming from these continents every year. Even if the situation in Africa is really, really bad, there should still be at least 10% of that number of films coming from the continent. All I will say is that it's definitely not only because of a lack of infrastructure.

DEADLINE: What's next? Do you have more other feature film projects in the pipeline?

HARAWE: I don't even need to make another film. When I think of how I started out, all I can say in hindsight is that there was a need for me to say something, and the only language that was universal was the visual language. I know how privileged I am to be in this position. I made short films, I said things I wanted to say, and I expressed myself. How many people in the world can say, okay, I made a feature film that was my ideas and my stories? How many people can say that? I will only make another film if I feel like it's necessary for me to make. Maybe this is the last time, who knows?

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