I Still Hide to Smoke

Set against the backdrop of 1995 war-torn Algiers, the film, I Still Hide to Smoke, is a profound narrative about women and their resilience in the face of societal constraints that deeply affect their liberties. Directed by Rayhana Obermeyer, the movie stars Hiam Abbass in the lead role alongside Fadila Belkebla and Nadia Kaci in substantial roles. The story is rich with the magic of sisterhood, the depths of feminine strength, and the essence of an indomitable spirit that refuses to succumb to the afflictions of the time.

The plot unfolds in the setting of a traditional Algerian steam bath or hammam, where Fatima (Hiam Abbass) works as a masseuse. Fatima, a woman with a troubled past and scarred by many ordeals, is subtly presented as a beacon of strength and resilience, inspiring the women around her in the hammam. The steam bath serves as a getaway for many women who come to escape their domestic issues and oppressive home environments. From affluent to impoverished, every woman from the nearby society congregates at this place. They laugh, they cry, they share their stories and respites - all the while bathing and indulging in traditional body treatments.

Fadila Belkebla portrays one such character, a financially independent and strong-willed woman, who is often seen finding comfort and social relief in the hammam, regularly accompanied by Nadia Kaci’s character who delicately balances her roles both in and outside her house. The film captures a vivid depiction of sisterhood, understanding, acceptance, and unity amidst the societal turmoil and personal struggles.

As an essentially female-centered movie, I Still Hide to Smoke is characterized by powerful performances and depth of emotions. Hiam Abbass stands out as the protagonist carrying the narrative forward with her strong screen presence and emotional portrayal of Fatima, expressing fear, perseverance, and defiance all at once. Fadila Belkebla and Nadia Kaci also deliver compelling performances, embodying characters with their own sets of vulnerabilities, fortitude, and human complexities.

The original title of the film, À mon âge je me cache encore pour fumer, is translated as “At my age, I still hide to smoke.” This title imparts a sense of the secrecy and suppression linked to women's personal habits in a socially conservative setting. The act of smoking is a mere symbol, hinting towards the shackles that these women face in their everyday lives - the repression, the domestic violence, the societal norms, and the political unrest that impinge on their freedom.

The hammam, painted in warm hues serving as a stark contrast to the violence and chauvinism outside its walls, symbolizes a refuge where these women are allowed to be themselves without judgment. It is an uncensored space where they can shed their opinions, sorrows, joys, and secrets, becoming a sanctuary amidst societal conflict and oppression.

Rayhana Obermeyer's directorial prowess reflects in every frame of the movie where she skillfully handles various themes such as sexual desire, domestic violence, religious extremism, and societal constraints in a single narrative. She offers us profound insights into the women's lives in a country torn apart by civil war and fundamentalist diktats, and their journeys as they strive for agency, dignity, and freedom.

The movie showcases the power of women in isolation, fighting a common enemy - the oppressions of a fundamentalist society and the lack of choice. It is a film about survival and resilience, about human spirit and courage, and about the significance of solidarity. It is a depiction of the strength and endurance of women in a challenging, oppressive society.

I Still Hide to Smoke brings together drama, historical context, and emotional depth, appealing to a spectrum of audiences who seek profound narratives and enigmatic characters. It bagged the International Critics' Award upon its premiere at the 2016 Thessaloniki Film Festival and resonates deeply with viewers, offering them a peek into a world that exists beyond their own, token of a difficult past not too long ago.