DIRECTOR’S STATEMENT

In The Brink of Dreams we are confronted by a group of young women who try to build a community of their own, and who are bound to endure an internal struggle between living authentically and adhering to the status quo, a challenge that many face when they don’t fit into preconceived standards. The protagonists find themselves on a voyage of self-discovery, one that reveals as much about them as it does about the long-standing traditions that have fuelled the culture of their lovely but stagnant village, but also about the world that exists beyond its borders. In that particular context, Barsha village turns into a relevant microcosm, not only for Egyptian society, but for life at large. What is fascinating about these teenage girls is their unawareness and utter disregard of the familial, societal, religious and economic restrictions, while the camera holds in the edges of its frame the fear and restrictions those girls refuse to acknowledge. It is something that is unique to that age when a person believes in their dreams so faithfully that their belief transcends their reality. But as girls grow up, frustrations, doubts and desires start to creep into the centre of the frame, forcing them to search for their own identity. In this coming-of-age story, we focus on these girls, who emanate strength, resilience, intelligence, courage, and love for each other. In our modern culture, that tends to fetishise youthful naivety, to pretend that life goes in a linear movement from the open innocence of youth to jaded experience, the girls’ story counters that fetish. Delving into their lives reveals the complexity of becoming a woman in zeitgeist societies. A mixture of larger-than-life dreams, reality checks, guilt and longing for childhood moments. The film aesthetics has to imitate that intricate journey by transcending genre and form. This allows us to explore the border between tragedy and freedom, control and submission, truth and lies, and the limitations and power of cinema.