The Judgment

Internalised homophobia can be a powerful force. We tend to think of it simply as lingering shame, or even as something that goes away upon coming out, but in fact its can take many different forms and is often culturally specific. This discomfiting drama from Marwan Mokbel explores the experiences of an Egyptian man, Mo (Junes Zahdi), who has been living in the US with his boyfriend Hisham (Freddy Shahin) but returns to his home in Alexandria to deal with a family emergency. When he finds himself confronted by an emblem of witchcraft, he becomes convinced that somebody knows his secret, that both he and Hisham are in supernatural peril and, most distressingly, that they might deserve it.

Intriguing in its ideas but a little heavy-handed in the application, Mokbel’s film begins with the drive from the airport. it’s a warm, sunny day and Hisham feels at ease, delighted to be meeting Mo’s mother (Samara Nohra), with whom he forms an instant and lasting bond, even though he has to be presented as a friend rather than a partner. Mo, however, is unsettled by the music on the radio, a song by Sara Hegazi, a lesbian who, in despair, ended her own life. It’s one of multiple small things that he seems to take as omens, entering a space where he is oppressed as much by memory as by anything in the present, by all the unprocessed traumas of the past.

“What if life isn’t about doing good, it’s just about obeying the almighty pride and getting on its good side?” he asks, part way through. It’s not a new question; in many ways it signals the shift in perspective between contemporary Abrahamic religions and their older forms, in which there was no expectation that God would be nice. Here, however, the picture is further complicated by the ambiguous relationship between religion and superstition, and the way in which local witchcraft traditions have become entangled with Islam. When a further crisis affects his family, Mo worries that others are suffering because of his behaviour. His and Hashim’s differently manifested guilt about their sexuality also put pressure on the relationship which provides his only anchor to reality.

Drawing on horror tropes to illustrate Mo’s experience of PTSD, Mokbel seems to be aiming to unsettle viewers with similar backgrounds, to make them wonder if what they are witnessing is psychological or actually demonic. Others might wonder if it matters, as the bulk of the damage done stems from Mo’s beliefs, regardless of their accuracy. Either way, a lighter tough might have helped here. At times the film is so heavy on the horror that there’s no longer room for its subtler ideas to develop. Living with PTSD can mean having to deal with a kind of interior noise that makes it hard to sort out one’s thoughts, but that idea could have been conveyed much more succinctly without inflicting it on the audience.

The film is saved by the sensitive performances of its two leads, and by a superb supporting turn from Nohra, who takes up more and more space towards the end of the film as she seeks to break through Mo’s trauma with her love. Her own complex journey to recognising and dealing with his difference is rarely made explicit, but she’s a skilled enough actor that she can show us what’s happening regardless. Tangled up with this is an interesting exploration of the tensions between patriarchal and matriarchal authority. It would have been nice to see the film spend more time on this, playing to its strengths, and less on the red light and jump scares. The Judgment falls short of its potential but it does make some important points along the way.