Young Ahmed

The young boy diligently goes about the chores at the facility, such as tending to cattle, while remaining ambiguous as to his true intentions. “I wish you could be like before,” his mother pleads sorrowfully. The extended final sequence is up there with the best the Dardennes have offered. It’ll keep you on the edge of your seat, both aghast and enthralled.

But that’s come to be expected from the great directors. With no stylistic embellishments or musical cues, they create an immersive experience that places the audience as helpless observers in the torn characters’ shoes. Young Ahmed epitomizes bare-essence, masterclass filmmaking. From Ahmed’s failed attempt to realize his terrible plan, to the disappearance of scissors at the detention center, and Ahmed’s grieving mother confronting an emotionless boy, one is unlikely to find more gripping sequences this year. 

“…marks another stellar addition to the prolific brothers’ enviable filmography.”

The performances are uniformly naturalistic and beautifully poignant. Introverted to the point of near-unreadability, with traces of feeling revealing a deep well of insecurity, Idir Ben Addi is magnificent in the lead. Thick eyebrows furrowed, skinny shoulders slumped, he walks with a confident, forward-leaning stride that forms an unnerving contrast to his posture. Caught at the tender prepubescent age when children are especially susceptible to influence, Ahmed resorts to the extremist interpretation of the Qur’an, unlike, say, drugs. What got him to that point is beyond the point. It’s about whether there’s hope for him, or if he’s doomed to become the next newspaper headline.

Young Ahmed may be described as a coming-of-age story, a searing character study, a visceral tale of redemption, a critique of extremism and the society that seems oblivious to and/or helpless against such evil. A celestial force must guide the Dardennes, for they create intimately epic visual poetry, discovering humanity in the darkest of places. Bless those guys.