In Morad Mostafa’s austere and captivating feature debut “Aisha Can’t Fly Away,” the title says it all. An absorbing and at times, puzzling blend of genres ranging from drama to body horror tells the story of an African immigrant who both craves something more and deserves a lot better than the hand she’s been dealt. But like a caged bird, she can’t escape her cruel and imprisoning circumstances.
Played by a terrific Buliana Simon in a precise performance of stoic poise, Aisha is a 26-year-old Sudanese caregiver, tending to the needs of the elderly, helping with their medication and keeping up their apartments. Residing as an immigrant in the bustling city of Cairo, in the tough neighborhood of Ain Shams (where Mostafa has spent his childhood and teenage years, and therefore captures with an insider’s lens), she is often observing and narrowly surviving the disorder and violence that erupt in the streets. Her only chance for safety is to cut a dirty deal with the hard-nosed gang leader Zuka (rapper Ziad Zaza). Early on, we watch Aisha as she leaves the apartment she works at for the day, after she makes a copy of the house key to later pass onto Zuka. This is a regular arrangement between the two: Aisha would steal house keys, and Zuka would provide her protection in return.
As in the film “Promised Sky” (which premiered alongside “Aisha” in Un Certain Regard at Cannes), Mostafa’s film focuses on an African woman alienated and left without options on her own continent. Frustrated and often exhausted, she spends her days and nights in a near-autopilot mode, doing what’s expected of her and barely getting by, only to find her job in jeopardy after one of the clients whose key she’s duplicated gets brutally attacked by Zuka’s people during their robbery. The employment agency will only allow her to keep her position if she agrees to switch houses and become the caregiver of the slimy and predatory Mr. Khalil (Mamdouh Saleh). When Aisha refuses his sexual demands and asks to be transferred, her employer just dismisses her plea (despite hers not being the first complaint about him). She must accept his sexual abuse as part of her nursing duties, or else look for a different job. Heartbreakingly, she complies.
When a strange rash develops on Aisha’s body, the film gradually adds confusing body horror elements to its tapestry. A dash of surreal symbolism is also in the mix with Aisha occasionally running into an intimidating (sometimes violent) ostrich in the streets and houses where she works. The bird, with its menacing stance, is surely a figment of Aisha’s imagination. It’s not quite clear what these fantasy sequences are supposed to symbolize: Could it be Aisha’s own growing internal strength as a bird, as teased in the title? Realized with impressive makeup work and effects, the bumpy and worsening rash around her torso suggests that she might be morphing into something akin to an ostrich. While these elongated sequences prove effective, they come across as a tortured and distracting metaphor — the real-world horrors of Aisha’s situation speak clearly enough for themselves.
Despite his iffy handle on mixing tones and genres, Mostafa nevertheless steers the layered and chaotic world of “Aisha Can’t Fly Away” with a painterly lens, thankfully avoiding a sense of visual romanticization in the midst of her lead’s dire circumstances. Crowded sidewalks, dusty roads and a densely populated city spread out in the background, while cinematographer Mostaga El Kashef stays close to Aisha’s face, underscoring her silent perceptiveness. In her thoughtful portrayal of a young woman with no good prospects, Simon articulates Aisha’s resolute headspace distinctly, commanding the screen with her sharp, uncompromising gaze. The gifted actor consistently deepens and intensifies the atmosphere of “Aisha Can’t Fly Away,” infusing it with a haunting and dangerous quality.
At times, the film leans into needless miserabilism, but Mostafa fortunately gives Aisha (and the audience) some breathing room, reminding us the small pockets of peace in her world through some underdeveloped but very welcome side characters. One of them is a chef (Emad Ghoniem) who often feeds Aisha with a generous plate of food. The other is a friend (Maya Mohamed) who is a reliable part of Aisha’s tiny circle of support. The film is at its strongest when intimately keeping its lens on Aisha’s tangible struggles, while organically contextualizing the modest instances of goodness in her life in contrast with the dire political backdrop of the region. On the whole, Mostafa delivers a worthwhile and intriguing character study, with disquietingly memorable images that startle even when they occasionally overpower the human drama at the film’s center.