MUBI

Jacques Audiard’s second Cesar award winner is a brutally realistic prison film, with Tahar Rahim as a young Arab man staring down six years in a maximum security prison, where the political and racial make-up pits the Corsican mob and their iron fist against the pacifist French Muslims for yard rule. When the boy is tasked by the mob to kill a snitch, in grisly fashion, he quickly becomes an underling in boss Cesar’s (Niels Arestrup) mob, but when most of the gang is shipped home from outside political pressure, Rahim’s power rises, and his status as the boss’s “Arab” becomes ever more confrontational.

Audiard’s film straddles a fine prison film line between pure realism and poetic surrealism, especially when Rahim begins to see the ghost of his murder victim in his cell (and where the film’s religious title comes from). It’s a bit too long, and at times the politics outside and inside the prison are confusing, but this is a powerful film, and Rahim and Arestrup are never less than brilliant as the lead antagonists.

A juvenile delinquent named Malik (Tahar Rahim) goes to prison after spending most of his up-growing in juvenile correctional facilities. Malik soon learns that he’s no longer a small fish in an aquarium, but a fry in an ocean. And swimming with the big fish is quite a different state of affairs as he is bound to discover.

Pic’s protagonist is recruited by the Corsican gang and, being an Arab by appearance (granted, apparently not religiously), he continues to live as an outsider of not only society but also fellow inmates as he has done most of his life. But he continues to float and find his way behind the bars.

In the exquisite direction of Jaques Audiard, the film accelerates well through good character development and profound script. The education of Malik is in my opinion one of the main pillar of the film because it is an education on so many levels. Of least to get ahead in business. Dirty business, granted, but it is business nonetheless.

It’s the small things that distinguishes this little gem from many other movies on prison culture. It has to be, Audiard knows this and has created yet another great piece of cinema for his fans.

Comment a-t-il fait ? Comment un scénario de thriller à la trame extérieurement conventionnelle (l’ascension au pouvoir d’un personnage présenté comme innocent) a-t-il pu permettre de véhiculer une métaphore si puissante ?

Commençons par le début : la naissance. Structurant son récit en chapitres plutôt qu’en temps, Jacques Audiard s’affranchit pourtant du genre. A l’évidence il faut constater qu‘Un prophète est impitoyablement libre. La trajectoire du personnage principal, un détenu d’origine maghrébine analphabète, Malik El Djebena, et du film suivent la même course d’élan, avant le décollage.

Premièrement Un prophète désarçonne par l’omniprésence de Malik, par son point de vue exclusif sur les séquences, par sa naissance à l’écran. Jacques Audiard a créé un personnage inimaginable, d’une familiarité trompeuse, d’une justesse exceptionnelle. Chevillant sa mise en scène aux actions faites par (ou à) Malik, il affranchit pourtant un spectateur qui se croit enfermer dans les préjugés, dans la prison où Malik purge sa peine. De l’ascension sociale de ce dernier il y a beaucoup à dire mais tellement plus à voir… si ce n’est le départ et l’arrivée, inverses. Les mots manquent également pour dissocier la performance de Tahar Rahim (ainsi que celle de l’ensemble de la distribution du film) de l’évolution du personnage. Chaque séquence renforce leurs existences, jusqu’à les rendre infiniment plus grands que sur un écran de cinéma.

Dans sa forme, un prophète ressemble à s’y méprendre à De battre mon cœur s’est arrêté, son précédent film. Cette forme ne fait pas long feu car c’est ici ce qu’Audiard pense, montre et raconte qui compte, non seulement au-delà des œillères dont il rend chacun responsable, mais également de l’histoire elle-même, de son scénario de thriller. D’infimes, les pensées et rêves de Malik prennent vie, se réalisent dans un réel sordide, presque ridiculement contemporain : les « arabes », les « corses », le système pénitentiaire ; à l’origine la misère, l’ignorance, le trou.

Ensuite c’est la France que Jacques Audiard montre, décrit et dessine, sans jamais la nommer autrement qu’en paysage. Voilà donc la prouesse : en adhérant le spectateur aux balbutiements de Malik, le metteur en scène distille sa vision du monde, aussi radicale soit-elle, utilisant les codes et la force du cinéma de genre pour dépasser ce que tant d’autres ont poli : le miroir. C’est en contournant soigneusement toute insinuation de jugement qu’Un prophète est subversif : il fait voir ce qui ne se montre pas et déterre les fantasmes de puissance. Jacques Audiard dit finalement, superficiellement, une chose simple : quand ceux qui sont plongés (d’après le film, malgré eux) dans l’ignorance apprennent à penser, c’est le souffle de l’insurrection qui se lève. Responsabilisant un Etat de décennies de mépris, il fait le procès métaphorique d’un pays qui a cru annihiler un danger potentiel. En fait d’annihilation c’est plutôt un cache-misère qu’Audiard soulève et nombreux sont ceux qui haïront ce qu’ils verront : la naissance au monde d’un homme impitoyable, celui qui est libre, un prophète ?

Enfin, ou plutôt donc, Un prophète n’est ni un film de genre, sauf dans sa forme, ni un film humaniste, sauf dans son fond. Si les arguments prêtent à contradiction c’est que le film a atteint son but premier, peut-être même le rêve de son metteur en scène. Il fait penser par soi-même et surtout reconnaître ce que l’on est prêt à voir, ou ce que l’on se cachera, comme sous le manteau ou entre les paupières, ou d’un œil, borgne. La métaphore portée par le film, ou plutôt en transparence de ce dernier, est sûrement imperceptible aux parties prenantes de l’affaire. Ceux qui verront vraiment le film comprendront ce qu’ils voudront, subjectivement, c’est-à-dire comme sujets.

Un prophète est un film rare, en mettant de côté sa remarquable rigueur, car il met en porte-à-faux vainqueurs et vaincus, Je et Ils, Dieux et démons. Du désir impérieux qui l’a fait naître coule une source intarissable, celle du Je, celle de l’individu, en inversion par rapport à sa dissolution dans la société, dans la communauté, dans l’origine. Ainsi Un prophète dépasse la trajectoire d’un homme pour envisager celle d’une humanité qui s’ignore ou se hait, non pas globalement, mais séparément, chacun pour soi. Si la haine de l’autre découle de la haine de soi-même, Malik sourit à mesure qu’il s’élève et s’affranchit, jusqu’à sa liberté.

Jacques Audiard’s, A Prophet, is a prison drama about a 19 year-old half-Muslim, half-Caucasian French youth named, Malik, who, having been newly admitted into the prison for unknown reasons, finds himself struggling to survive. Thus, beginning the narrative quite naive, almost like a blank slate or tabula rasa, our leading character is representative of the protagonists in the literary genre of the bildungsroman or the more familiarly known, coming of age story. There is no doubt that when the audience first encounters Malik, he is not only shown to be weak in vulnerable in the first scene in which he steps out onto the yard and he is mugged and robbed of his sneakers; but, it is also made clear that he is unable to read and/or write. Thus, throughout the narrative the leading character of Malik experiences a certain maturation; not only through learning how to read and write but also how to play his cards to his greatest advantage in prison politics.
Maintaining its artful presentation of the narrative, the film is actually quite indulgent in its presentation of violence. In Malik’s initial right of passage (the murder of a fellow Muslim), the depiction of the action is not restrained or moderated in any shape or form; from the beginning of the scene, we are absolutely drawn-back, detested and most of all, worried for the fate of our protagonist. The film brutally shows the struggle of Malik as he attempts to hide a razor in his mouth while feigning the intention of performing oral sex on another Muslim man, marked for death among the Corsican crime syndicate. We watch him begin to bleed from his gums as the razor moves around in his mouth and he contemplates the perfect time to make his first, murderous, move. Bleeding from his mouth profusely now, his intentions have now been made known to his victim. In a last ditch attempt to pull of the prison ‘hit’, he finally manages to get the blade from out of his mouth and into his hand and then subsequently ends up struggling with his victim until he finally manages to cut his throat from ear to ear. The amount of blood that we are shown in this scene is truly unique, breathtaking and most of all, effective. Audiard does not let the viewers down with his passionate attention to gruesome detail in his depiction of the various horrors that accompany the prison lifestyle; namely, starting with the first major conflict presented to Malik, Audiard does not hesitate to present the audience with grotesque violence, indulging in the representation of the particular realistic details, perhaps in order to enliven the viewer’s subjective emotional participation in the diagetic content of the film.
Audiard uses various tricks and tips his hat to many different genres in this film, yet, perhaps the most memorable and/or criticized stylistic trait that is utilized in this film would be that of the recurring surrealistic presentation of the ghost. Without presenting any recognizable division between reality and dream-state, Audiard offers us a bit of a complication in accurately pinning down this film to a specific genre. The recurring presence of the ghost of the murdered prisoner that presents itself throughout the film leads audience to question the integrity of the reality of the sequences in general; or moreover, to question when exactly the dream ends and the reality begins, or vice versa.

Film asal Perancis, A Prophet, mengisahkan mengenai Malik El Djebena (Tahar Rahim) yang masih berusia 19 tahun ketika ia dijebloskan ke dalam penjara. Atas tindakannya memukul seorang polisi, Malik terpaksa harus menerima hukuman selama 6 tahun penjara. Di dalam penjara, tanpa pengetahuan dan buta huruf, tidak akan ada seorangpun yang mampu menyelamatkannya kecuali keberuntungan, yang jelas-jelas bukanlah suatu hal yang akan datang dengan sendirinya. Keberuntungan di dalam penjara, sama halnya di dunia luar, adalah sesuatu yang harus dicapai dengan kerja keras.

Sebagai seorang keturunan Arab, ia mengaku bukanlah seorang religius. Karenanya, Malik ditempatkan pada blok penjara yang berisi para mafia yang berasal dari Corsica, dan bukan pada blok yang berisi para tahanan Muslim. Disinilah ujian terhadap keberuntungan Malik di penjara dimulai. Suatu hari, pimpinan narapidana Corsica, César Luciani (Niels Arestrup), memaksanya untuk membunuh seorang narapidana keturunan Arab, Ryad (Adel Bencherif). Jika tidak, nyawa Malik sendiri yang akan menjadi ancamannya.

Nasib berpihak kepada Malik. Ia berhasil membunuh Reyed — walaupun akhirnya bayang-bayang Reyed terus menghantui Malik selama ia berada di dalam penjara — dan membuat Malik menjadi dekat dengan golongan Corsica. Malik akhirnya dijadikan pesuruh mereka. Namun, tak ada seorangpun yang tahu bahwa Malik adalah seorang yang cepat beradaptasi dengan keadaan. Walau sering menjadi bahan olokan bagi golongan Corsica, Malik memanfaatkan posisinya yang dekat dengan golongan Corsica untuk memperluas jaringannya di kalangan penjaga penjara dan narapidana lainnya.

Kerja keras Malik akhirnya membuat keberuntungannya perlahan-lahan berubah. César mulai memperhatikannya dan menjadikan Malik sebagai orang kepercayaannya. César bahkan mempercayai Malik untuk bertugas keluar dari penjara dan menjalankan proyek bisnis gelapnya yang ia lakukan dengan penjahat lainnya di luar penjara. Ini juga dimanfaatkan oleh Malik untuk mempelajari bagaimana seluk beluk bisnis di dunia kriminal yang menjadikan Malik malah berhasil untuk membentuk usaha dunia kriminalnya sendiri.

Dalam A Prophet, yang berjudul asli Un Prophète, sutradara Jacques Audiard membawa para penontonnya untuk melihat bagaimana kerasnya keadaan penjara di Perancis. Penuh dengan intrik yang didasari atas perbedaan ras, Audiard berhasil menangkap setiap detil mengenai pertentangan yang terjadi antara para narapidana, maupun detil mengenai cara berjalannya aturan-aturan di dalam penjara itu sendiri. Proses penyampaian detil ini sendiri harus diakui berjalan cukup lancar kepada para penonton film ini, terutama akibat pemilihan gambar yang dilakukan Audiard yakni terus memastikan bahwa gambar terus bergerak dan tidak terlalu berfokus terlalu lama pada sebuah obyek.

Dari sisi naskah cerita, A Prophet disajikan sebagai sebuah tayangan dingin yang sama sekali tidak memberikan kecerahan apapun bagi para penontonnya. Lihat saja bagaimana hubungan antara Malik dan César. Sebagai seorang yang ‘dirawat’ oleh César, mungkin beberapa penonton akan mengharapkan bahwa hubungan keduanya akan berjalan layaknya seorang ayah dan anak. Namun, hal itu tidak terjadi pada naskah yang ditulis Audiard bersama Thomas Bidegain, Abdel Raouf Dafri dan Nicolas Peufaillit ini. Sering memang terlihat momen-momen kedekatan antara keduanya yang membuat bayangan bahwa Malik menaruh rasa simpati pada César. Namun, hal tersebut tidak pernah dikatakan apalagi ditunjukkan olehnya.

Dinginnya jalan cerita yang disajikan juga ditambah dengan beberapa adegan kekerasan yang ditampilkan secara gamblang oleh Audiard di sepanjang film ini. Audiard tidak segan-segan untuk meletakkan adegan berdarah atau sadis, yang untungnya bekerja dengan baik, karena ditampilkan secara jujur dan berperan penting di dalam jalan cerita film ini. Pemilihan gambar yang bernuansa gelap juga semakin menegaskan dingin dan kelamnya alur cerita yang dibawa A Prophet. Film yang bernuansa cenderung depresif ini memiliki alur yang berjalan cukup lamban dan durasi yang cukup lama, yang tentunya akan mencegah beberapa orang untuk dapat menikmati film ini.

Tidak hanya menyusun secara baik jajaran teknikalnya, Audiard juga memiliki barisan pemeran yang mampu membuat film ini sangat hidup di sepanjang penayangannya. Aktor utama film ini, Tahar Rahim, mampu beradaptasi dengan karakter Malik yang pendiam dan penyendiri pada awalnya, namun secara perlahan mulai beradaptasi dengan keadaannya dan malah mampu bertahan dan keluar dengan berhasil dari keadaan itu. Karena akting Rahim-lah, terutama dari sorot matanya yang dingin, maka penonton dapat dengan jelas merasakan bagaimana berbagai gejolak yang ada di hati Malik. Dari yang pada awalnya ragu dan takut untuk membunuh, sehingga menjadi mampu melakukan apa saja untuk memperoleh tujuannya.

Depresif, A Prophet ditampilkan oleh sutradara Jacques Audiard dengan naskah penceritaan dan karakterisasi yang dingin dari tiap karakter yang ada di film ini. Pemilihan gambar-gamabar yang cenderung gelap, alur cerita yang berjalan lamban dan durasi yang sedikit panjang, membuat para penontonnya akan membutuhkan konsentrasi lebih untuk menyaksikan A Prophet. Namun, dibalik itui semua, A Prophet memiliki seluruh keunggulan yang layak membuat film ini diberi kredit yang sangat tinggi. Pencapaian teknikal yang sangat mendukung jalan cerita serta departemen akting yang melakukan pekerjaannya dengan sangat baik — terutama aktor Tahar Rahim yang bekerja luar biasa di dalam film ini — menjadikan A Prophet sebagai salah satu film bergenre crime drama terbaik di sepanjang dekade lalu.

Rating: 4.5 / 5

The title, “A Prophet,” refers to the central character’s almost superhuman ability to curtail and manipulate his surroundings. He is one step ahead of the game; observant, penetrating, always mapping out a plan that will catapult him to the next level. And by story’s end, he will have honed the powers to become a mafia mastermind. This is where Jacques Audiard’s film is at its strongest, when it examines the process by which one young, nubile man enters the prison system and comes out less than five years later a hardened, muscular criminal. The man, Malik, played with a mercurial exactness by Tahar Rahim, makes a great character to study. As he rises in prominence and stature through the guidance of a Corsican gang, we see a lonely Arab immigrant trying to find a place to settle into his own, pursuing a criminal life as his only means of survival. Cutthroat and vigorously made, the picture ultimately runs out of steam as its overlong runtime wears on. What begins as a terse prison drama becomes convoluted and confusing, a structurally messy, yet worthwhile, venture.

Very well made, entertaining and intelligent psychological crime-drama. For anyone who is terrified of the idea of prison, you’ll find the first hour highly cerebral, though this begins to wear as the main character becomes more comfortable with his surroundings. Audiard works with tension nicely, building suspense at a sometimes cringing pace. Much like films along the lines of “Children of Men,” or “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind,” “A Prophet” has the potential to appeal to a variety of different audiences, ranging from casual movie goers to art house enthusiasts. Random note- the leniency of the European prison system opened up a lot of opportunities for the story. None of what happened in this film would fly during in an American prison, regardless of how corrupt it was. Briefly, one or two of the scenes get a little “Bourne Identity-ish” but even those are fairly manageable. The comparisons to Scorsese films and “The Godfather” are ridiculous though, because they are nothing alike. “A Prophet” really only has two main characters in the film (three if you count his friend on the outside,) where as films like “Goodfellas” or “The Godfather” have countless characters who are vital / relevant to the story for more than 15 minutes. I don’t think it was the intention of Audiard to be thrown into that ring, however. This film is slightly more existential than other gangster / crime flicks, and I love the way the film spends no time reviewing the main characters life prior to his entering the prison. The scars on his face are all that you have to make your assessment of him with. There is some superb acting to look for. Tahar Rahim depicts fear just as well as he does indifference. Niels Arestrup, who I had only seen in “The Diving Bell & the Butterfly” was on point as well. The way the title is written into the film is very clever. Oh, and the ending – so cool! “A Prophet” reached a style grittiness that much crime films tend not to, and at points I even hoped for further distance from the characters to maintain such an effect. Overall, I found watching the film to be (though not without it’s flaws) a more or less great experience. 4 stars.

P.S. Anyone who finds this film to be racist is an idiot. No racial / ethnic group (Muslim, French etc.) was portrayed particularly respectably in the film.

Nitty gritty hardly comes close to describing the nature of this film. I watched with a wincing face because I hate coming to terms with the fact that my beloved France is not free from nationalist corruption & the mafia underground.

When Malik stumbles into prison to serve a six year sentence, he falls under the sway of a Corsican group of thugs. The problem, however, is that Malik is Arab, and his days of quietus are numbered. Eventually, he gains the Corsicans’ trust & protection yet not without secretly developing a network of his own.

Auteur Jacques Audiard’s portrayal of organised crime within France is interesting as far as socio-political enthusiasts care to see. For me, however, as someone who is compelled by great stories, I found that this film fell short of, well, whatever its intentions were. The criminal dynamics were too complex, and Malik’s ability to learn an entirely different language despite his illiteracy lacked credibility. As much as I love France, this film will forever ring to me as the little œuvre that tried.

Whereas Audiard’s two previous movies – the similarly crime-based and emotionally gripping ‘Read my Lips’ and ‘The Beat that my Heart Skipped’ – focused primarily on the protagonists’ moral dilemmas, this movie offers the viewer a broader spectrum to consider. ‘A Prophet’ manages to successfully create a surrounding world (a bit paradoxical maybe, considering it’s mainly a prison drama) thanks to some naturalistic performances by convincing supporting actors, a claustrophobic, at once realistic and magical cinematography that truly communicates the psychological consequences of incarceration, and – perhaps most of all – a powerful, masterful lead performance by newcomer Tahar Rahim.

Contains spoilers – taken from my blog www.destroy-apathy.blogspot.com

I know it’s not the first film I have seen in 2010 but Un prophète really does set the precedence for the year. I very much doubt there will be a better film than this released any time soon. The film straddled the genre line perfectly and included enough elements for it to be unmistakably part of the relatively niche prison film genre or the much more commonly recognised gangster film genre, yet at the same time it flaunted certain elements in order to really make a point. This is the whole point of genre being formed and the reason that genre in cinema is so important. Not so that lazy writers and directors can churn out ‘sure fire’ predictable hits but so that geniuses and directorial wizards like Jaques Aidiard can subvert certain mythologies in a recognisable and engaging format. It was from Steve Neale (google him) that I learned the importance of this repetition and variation. This film could well have been used to prove his point as to why the variation from certain expectations can be so impactful and carry so much weight and significance.

Postmodern Identity (not attached to grand narratives)

Malik (Tahar Rahim) has never – despite society’s efforts – assigned himself a specific identity; he doesn’t consider himself Arab, he definitely isn’t Corsican and he didn’t consider himself particularly French. He repeatedly and unashamedly insists that he works for himself whenever his allegiances are questioned. He is the capitalist dream! But not the overbloated capitalist dream that created characters like Scarface’s Tony Montana. This Montana-esque capitalism is that of overindulgence and greed, which is the same capitalism that has recently brought the global economy to its knees. Both Montana and the greedy capitalism he embodies survived on an ever-expanding need for power and status which ultimately and inevitably leads to a dramatic crash, which is realised in this film through Cesar’s Corsicans. This is why Malik is so timely, arriving after last years implosion of this bloated capitalism but still championing capitalism’s individualistic qualities and a postmodern identity unassigned to any grand narratives. He does not have that essential character trait of the genre: the greed for power and status. An important illustration of this is when one of the muslim inmates asks Malik what he wanted (in return for a favour). The inmate asked if it was reputation he was after, to which Malik replied “do I look Corsican?” This was the film showing clearly that this old way of thinking is outdated and would only result in his demise. Just as it did with Cesar, the Corsicans and by symbolic extension the old systems so prevalent throughout modernity, concluding in the current financial turmoil. This character has respect for other people (who deserve it), for friends, for family and he lacks the greed for power and pig-headed pride usually assigned to the protagonist of the gangster genre. He knows who he needs to please or appease to get to where he needs without this pride getting in his way; hence he is polite to the guards and has no qualms with authority. Cesar (being the epitome of the outdated and soon to crumble system) does not understand why Malik still makes coffee for the Corsicans even though he has access to much higher places in the criminal, hierarchical food chain. It is this unrelenting emphasis on pride that is going to leave the old gangster behind and simultaneously it is this refusal to conform to these hierarchical systems that allow Malik to adapt to the changing multicultural world of postmodernity and therefore this is why he is the future.

Not only is this character at odds with the usual Gangster protagonist but so too is the overall theme of the film. An almost essential part of the gangster genre – the punishment of the lead character for working outside the system – is completely absent and a common element of the prison drama genre – the portrayal of authority and the system as relentlessly grim and unfair – is also not an emphasis. Yes it shows that the guards are a little crooked but it doesn’t show them as the caricatured tyrannical fascists usually seen in the genre. The film shows that the system is not going to get you everything but it doesn’t show it to leave you with nothing. When his friend Ryad (Abel Bencherif) was out in the real world he got a job and rehabilitated fine, or at least could have. This would be ok for some and he admitted in his letter to Malik that the outside isn’t fantastic but it is better than life inside. The main problem was that he couldn’t use his real identity: he could not use his Arab name when working at the call centre. Again this may be fine for some but the world that this film is promoting is one where individuals are completely free to have their own identity, not in any way feeling obliged to use one ascribed to them by others (this oversimplifies where people generate their identity but there is not the capacity to open this Pandora’s box at the minute). So this isn’t good enough for him and he turns to crime. The usual gangster film message here would be ‘right if you cannot conform you will die’ and although this character does die, it was not due to his illegal activity but due to testicular cancer, which he would have suffered from no matter what. (I understand that some may read this as a biblical or supernatural punishment)

Genre deviation

All the way through this film – due to genre expectations – I was expecting the fall that always comes after the rise. I was very empathetic towards and attached to the character of Malik, so much so I was getting upset in anticipation for his demise along with being annoyed, thinking that he did not deserve it and that it would undermine everything else the film was trying to achieve. It shows that he never chose this life, that he ended up there as a product of society; he had no parents, grew up in juvenile centres, we never know why he was imprisoned but it really doesn’t matter, he was always going to end up there. The usual conventions – seen in many prison dramas – see the protagonist going to jail for something petty then ending up having his time extended, getting hooked on crack and ultimately probably dying, miserable and alone. The message being that the slightest deviation from the system’s laid out (legal) path will result in your horrific demise. I cannot help but think that there were certain scenes and plot points that played on these expectations, like when he took some heroin; I thought ‘oh here comes the fall’ but no, he never became a hopeless addict, just tried it out then got on with his life. These scenes were put in purposefully to flaunt how it was subverting certain genre elements, as rather than this predictable plot Malik did the opposite: he went in as nothing, with no family, he could not even read or write. He came out with friends, a family, fully literate, could speak additional languages and had a firm grasp of economics; he had a full life and he got all the way through his sentence without extension even getting time back in the form of early parole for good behaviour. He never got sucked in by any of the grand narratives that his identity could have latched onto; none of the racial/social identities nor the religious ones. He didn’t find Alah, which I was worried about as this would have destroyed the idea of staying unattached to grand narratives that I saw as being so important during this film.

Choosing family

The very important thing that rounds off the points made above (of Malik being a new breed of gangster protagonist and therefore avoiding the rise and fall) was at the end of the film when he left the prison. He chose to go to his family, the family that he had inherited from his friend (in effect the film here even destroys established notions of how important the biological part of family is). Yes it showed the support that he had from the criminal underground in the form of the cars full of his outside contacts but he barely acknowledged them and when he found out that his friend’s wife came on the bus, he could have easily arranged them a lift home, but chose to get the bus with her. This to me really rounded off the fact that everything Malik had done during the course of these six years was a sort of self-defence and necessity for seeing him through his sentence, but now, rather than chasing an insatiable need for power and status he still realises what was important to him, which he identified in a discussion at some point during the film as being happy and making his friends happy.

Negatives

Usually at the end of one of my posts, I try to briefly go over any gaps, flaws or disappointments no matter how vague they may have been. I’m afraid that with this film – at least at the minute – I cannot, I guess that means I think it was flawless.

In Summary

This is a landmark film in terms of the gangster genre but also contemporary filmmaking in general; that an international film can make such an impact on a genre dominated by Hollywood in the past. It is more current and progressive than any gangster film of my generation. I cannot really comment on something like The Godfather’s statements on society at the time as I was not around at its release and although I can read around it I can never fully feel a part of that time. This film, due to the reasons outlined above, mainly surrounding the state of capitalism is a true sign of our time. It does not disavow the need for a free market but it greatly criticises the way that these systems – and the whole of society along with it – has been twisted by certain controlling powers. This film champions the importance of the individual and the importance of respecting people on your own terms. Malik was a prophet but not one assigned to any religion (though I’m sure religions could claim him) but to the world in general. He came and cleansed an already decaying system, leaving it open for whatever is to come. The way he left with his family at the end shows that this cleansing was his job, his purpose, he completed it and now he is leaving it to others to sort out, pick up the pieces and maintain. Despite the constant tension, threat of peril and scenes such as the razorblade extraction practice, this really is a feel good, uplifting film.

imagine the shawshank redemption meet city of god.well the result would be more or less like this,a completely raw and brutal film about life in prison !

The story, some call it, The Godfather of prison movie.well, believed the hype. This is a highly intriguing, intense, and emotionally deep motion picture. Audiard’s direction also makes the film more enjoyable. his chapter division, is innovative and stylish enouh (my favorite is the last chapter:recite)

and Tahar Rahim,well,speaking of the glorious work of fate,the fact that he got the role of malik el djebena after sharing a taxi with Jaqcues Audiard,the director,is wondrous. his performance is so compelling , that i did not afraid to compare it with Al Pacino performances in again,The Godfather. his character is evolving along the film. At first we just see him new in prison,just trying to survive.but as the 2 hours and 28 minutes progress, he get tougher and wiser,and everytime he is onscreen,he owns it.

So overall, judging by the solid story, delicate direction, and, above all, the tour-de force performance of Tahar Rahim, makes me insist that this is my definite favorite film of 2009.

It is weird, but after reading a quick blurb about director Jacques Audiard’s motivations for creating Un prophète [A Prophet], my view of the film went down ever so slightly. It’s not like I thought it was the greatest movie and now I abhor it, no, it is a very well made cinematic work, but I do have to question someone saying that it was made to create an icon for people who have none, meaning Arabs in France. So he is giving these people a hero to worship in the form of a convicted felon, turned murderer, turned mafia leader? I’m not sure that is something I’d want to be affiliated with as an icon representative of myself. However, regardless of a quote I read that may have been taken out of context, one cannot deny the power of this film as it shows the evolution of Malik El Djebena, gleaning what it means to be a networked kingpin on the inside and positioning himself to become just that.

We never really find out what he did to go to prison in the first place. Our introduction is to a young nineteen year-old sentenced to six years behind bars, a backhanded comment about beating up police officers—for which he refutes and claims innocence—the only mention of possible crime. He is very green and completely out of his element when let out into the general population. The only reason he is even approached to warrant protection and membership into a sect of Corsicans is the fact he speaks Arabic and can get close to an Arab recently transferred that they want dead. It becomes a subject of kill or be killed despite his fears and anxiety in knowing he could never harm a soul. But pressures are too much and he soon realizes that the Corsicans control the prison; to refuse or fail is impossible. Once the job is finished, Malik is owned by these men and billed as their ‘dirty Arab’, relegated to cleaning, fetching, and doing all the dirty jobs, yet at the same time treated with disgust as a Corsican by the Arabs. Treated as a second class citizen by everyone not withstanding, he is smarter than his inability to read and write will let on, slowly learning the languages and the rules of engagement, setting the stage for a potential hostile takeover.

Played by Tahar Rahim, in a phenomenal performance for a first time leading role, you really get to see the maturity growing as each year passes for Malik inside the prison. He arrives with a welt under his eye, scars on his back, and a temper hidden behind his soft-spoken, isolated demeanor. The beast rises as each task is completed, building this boy into a man as trust is gained and connections are made. That reliability stems from a new law saying Corsicans are able to serve time closer to home, causing leader César Luciani—a menacing portrayal from Niels Arestrup, especially when considering his age and brutality—to find himself alone as his comrades move away while he must stay. So, Malik inherits it all, moving next door as second in command, but still being treated as a lesser human, only helping breed his resentment towards César. If nothing else is understood, this Arab knows that everyone is willing to do a favor as long as they get something in return. As such, whenever his boss sends him on a mission—Malik has earned leave days by this time—he sets up his own relationships and business from the skills he has slowly been learning on the inside. Speaking French, Arabic, and Corsican has allowed him to live on the border of every gang, moving the pieces into position, readying himself for when the opportunity presents itself.

Calling him a prophet, as the title implies, comes in his uncanny ability to align himself with enemies, in effect making them allies to each other. He plays every angle and gains their trust and respect, taking them all to the Promised Land. But the confidence is built brick by brick, sometimes even by accident. Oftentimes Malik is very unsure of himself, playing situations by ear, always having the luck to say and do the right things at the right time. It is as though he is doing God’s work, a vessel being led through dangerous meet-ups unscathed. Still a naïve young man, he is only twenty-five after his sentence is complete, he basks in the little freedoms he is given and the friendships he creates, always remaining a prisoner, though, even opening his mouth and sticking out his tongue when stopped at a airport metal detector by force of habit. Adel Bencherif’s Ryad helped him to read and write on the inside and therefore is the man he trusts to run his soon to be flourishing drug trade business; Reda Kateb’s Jordi is treated kindly by buying hash from him, gaining favor until he becomes Malik’s supplier in the prison; and even Slimane Dazi’s Lattrache, a man César sent him to meet and make a deal with on behalf of the Corsicans, becomes an ally. Fate brings them all into his life and somehow, this once scared boy has grown into the kind of man that can not only bring them together, but also successfully lead them.

The entire film is set-up for his eventually usurping of power at the prison. The writing is on the wall from the get-go; so saying that ruins no surprises. I almost want to say that the story is a tad long and boring at points—it is two and half hours after all—but I think that does a disservice to the work, seeing as how I can think of no portion that could be excised. Besides the gradual evolution of the man, Audiard has also infused numerous moments of dark beauty, dream-like sequences of aesthetic worth, adding to Malik’s mystique. Mainly, this comes in the form of his victim Reyeb, played by Hichem Yacoubi, appearing to him periodically as a vision, foretelling the future and always on fire in some regard. Perhaps he is a demon come to lead Malik on the course of evil he takes; I guess the interpretation is left up to the viewer, along with a seemingly random, mesmerizing scene of deer. The cinematography is interesting throughout, without a dull moment, and at its best during a shootout from the inside of a car, shot in slomotion with bullets flying, one man against four. There is definitely something special about Malik El Djebena, either fallen angel doing God’s work—evil for the purpose of good—or the Devil’s. I would just like to believe it is a parable of one man’s willingness to survive and prosper, not a vehicle for some figure to be idolized and worshipped, giving Arabs in France someone to look up to, applauding the death and destruction left in his wake.

Un prophète [A Prophet] 9/10

http://jaredmobarakreviews.wordpress.com/2010/01/03/a-prophet/

A microcosm of French society in a gritty jail drama – great performances and fabulous cinematography by Stephane Fontaine. I’m yet to see Audiard’s earlier films and I got hold of this one quite accidentally but it was quite a treat. The camerawork is fantastic – handheld without being intrusive at all. So the privacy of all the moments is preserved beautifully – for instance, the scene where El Djebena practices with the blade in his mouth. Personally, the best scenes in the film are the ones where Djebena steps out of jail on his leave days – the deer ramming into the car, the swap deal in the house, stepping out when day’s breaking and you can feel the nip in the air – beautiful! Majority of contemporary European cinema is shot handheld and more often than not, it really adds a lot of dynamism. The best example would probably be Cristian Mungiu’s 4 Months, 3 Weeks, 2 Days. Une Prophete doesn’t take the same route of long single-take scenes but short effective ones. The character development is fantastic as you see the ups-and-downs in Malik’s prison life. Audiard has left the cliches of stank toilets and dark dirty rooms far behind him – choosing instead to engage the audience with the power struggles of prison life.
A must-watch.

A tough, unflinching look at the multi-faceted world of how tough it is to remain keeping one’s soul and sanity inside a jail where nothing is any different, but only worst, as when compared with the world left outside.

A stunning follow-up to The Beat that my Heart Skipped from Audiard. Although it would have been a stronger film minus a dead jail mate interfering with the living, particularly with his killer, Malik (Tahar Rahim), but still the film captures the verve and grace of a contemporary crime noir.

Many scenes are beautifully shot and edited. The score helps a lot in providing an elegant delight, even soon after the film’s end credits start rolling.