By Yun-hua Chen.
That’s why I chose MMA fights and combat sports. It’s all about being in a cage. Women’s MMA fights have this expectation that they must look sexy, and it’s about this strange desire of Sarah’s to return to the cage. Meanwhile, the girls in the film want to escape from their golden cages.”
Sarah, a former Austrian MMA professional, travels to Jordan to train three young sisters from a wealthy family. Shuttled between the opulent hotel where she is staying and the expansive family estate, where the girls’ rooms on the first floor are strictly off-limits, Sarah finds her previous world and value system increasingly distant. Under constant surveillance by the girls’ bodyguards and wary of their brother’s ambiguity, which belies his seemingly friendly and Westernized demeanor, Sarah’s only respite after work is sitting at the luxurious hotel bar, attempting to strike up a conversation with the young bartender.
In her director’s note, Kurdwin Ayub poignantly states: “It’s all about sisters, no matter where they come from, and about cages, no matter where they are. Cages you want to leave and those you wish you could return to.” Following her previous film Sonne (2022), also produced by Ulrich Seidl like Mond, which explored the aspirations of another trio of sisters aspiring to make YouTube singing videos in a culture where singing is not encouraged for women, Ayub ventures into another “golden cage”—another space where East meets West, and misunderstandings could easily escalate into conflict and danger. With her unique sensibility and ability to navigate between cultures, Ayub provides an empathetic view of a woman caught between two worlds, struggling to find herself. The film, celebrating sisterhood, foregrounds patriarchy while subtly addressing our nuanced relationships with cages and the complex dynamics of how people are treated differently based on their ethnic and cultural backgrounds.
In Locarno, Kurdwin Ayub speaks with Film International about sisterhood, cages, and the making of her film.
In this film, like your previous film Sonne, there are also three sisters. What significance do three sisters hold for you?
I have a sister, and having a sister is the most important thing for me. Over time, I realized that my sister is more than just a friend—she’s the one who stays with me when my parents are away. The love between sisters, as well as between daughters and mothers, is immense. That relationship is very important to me. Two sisters might not be enough, and four might be too many.
The solidarity, conflicts, and disagreements between sisters are compelling elements in your films. How do you understand the complexity of sisterhood?
That’s the fascinating thing about sisters—you can have a huge fight and still love each other deeply. You can even find a sister in someone who isn’t biologically your sister. This kind of solidarity among women is crucial, though sometimes I feel it’s lacking. It’s changing now, but there are still challenges. Of course, patriarchy plays a significant role in affecting women’s relationships.
I was curious about the casting. You cast a performing artist, an actress who is an influencer, and some roles were filled by people with no prior acting experience.
When I cast, I seek people who are natural, who fit the film perfectly, and who can form a genuine bond with one another. I want the cast to be organic and authentic, bringing their own ideas to the table. They weren’t my “puppets.” I’m not concerned if they are actresses, performers, or podcasters. For instance, the brother in the film is a podcaster in the Arabic region, and Shone of the sisters is a model. Sarah’s friends are musicians, dancers, or media professionals—people somehow related to art and performance. I don’t need professional actors; if they wish to become one, I can help them get there. I usually cast people who are new to the industry, so I can guide them and develop their style. It’s my unique method of working. If someone has too much prior experience, it might not work as well because they would bring too much of their past into the role. With my method, I prefer them to be fresh, as if they know nothing about acting. That’s what I find works best.
Why Jordan?
I originally wanted to shoot in Iraq, but it wasn’t safe for the cast and crew. So, I started looking for countries in the region that are relatively liberal, similar to Austria or Europe, where there’s some wealth but still inequalities between men and women. Jordan fit this description. There are also real stories there, like the sister of the Jordanian king who fled her family, and Princess Latifa who also escaped. I didn’t want to portray the typical Gulf state with everyone in burkas because I wanted to play with audience expectations. I wanted to challenge their stereotypes and perhaps give them the tools to break those stereotypes.
Did you receive any support from institutions in Jordan?
Not financial support, but I did receive other kinds of assistance. The head of the film institute in Jordan is the father of the photographer in the movie, so we were all very close. They were okay with the film’s theme as well. It’s common in that region for stories like these to be used in soap operas—stories about daughters who don’t want to marry and want to escape from their fathers. I found this theme fascinating for the film.
I’m from Iraq and visit these countries often, so I guess they are somehow a part of me. Moments like that just emerge naturally.”
Did it take a long time to find the house for shooting?
Yes, it took us a long time to find the perfect house. We had to bring all the furniture and props into the house because it was actually a wedding venue and was empty when we found it. It’s funny when we realized that.
The bartender’s conversation with Sarah was very intriguing… There were subtle cultural codes at play. What inspired you to create moments like that?
Sometimes, I don’t know exactly what inspires me. I’m from Iraq and visit these countries often, so I guess they are somehow a part of me. Moments like that just emerge naturally. I don’t overthink how or why I portray a scene in a certain way. For example, the look of the house was inspired by my uncle’s home.
The ending has a strong sense of helplessness, with the white woman being able to walk away from a difficult situation, which reflects the world today.
Yes, that’s exactly what I wanted to portray. When things get tough, the sisters in that family face trouble, but the Austrian woman can leave easily because no one would dare touch her. She can simply go home and have a drink at the bar. It was important for me to show that contrast.
Did you consider the music score while shooting?
No, the music came later. During the shoot, I knew I wanted to include the song S&M by Rihanna, but for the disco and other scenes, I searched for the right music afterwards and made my selections during post-production.
How was the rehearsal process?
I went to Jordan a few months ahead of time, and we did rehearsals there. We didn’t rehearse the exact scenes but did other similar ones. We also rehearsed what happened before the events of the film to create a backstory. This helped the actors immerse themselves in their roles and recall those emotions when filming the actual scenes. I prepared for a long time with Florentina.
I’m really intrigued by your quote about sisters and the cage. Could you elaborate on your concepts of sisterhood and the cage?
That’s also why I chose MMA fights and combat sports. It’s all about being in a cage. Women’s MMA fights have this expectation that they must look sexy, and it’s about this strange desire of Sarah’s to return to the cage. Meanwhile, the girls in the film want to escape from their golden cages. The cage is a metaphor for violence in the movie. It represents the violence they want to break free from or, in some cases, return to and accept. It’s the struggle they all face, both with themselves and with each other.
I find it interesting how you use activities that are not widely accepted for women in these regions to illustrate your concept of the cage.
When you’re in a cage, you find different ways to occupy yourself—like when you don’t have a phone, you turn to the TV.
The helper is an interesting character too.
In Middle Eastern countries, it’s common to have live-in helpers. If you’re moderately wealthy, you might have African helpers. If you’re very rich, you might have Thai helpers. I don’t know why, but that’s how it’s been explained to me. There are big agencies that handle these arrangements. These helpers live in the country for a few months or years and then return home. They are a constant, silent presence. In some cases, they become like friends or even part of the family, but in others, it’s strictly a job. This is a phenomenon in Gulf countries.
What is your next project about?
It’s about a sensationalist reporter in Mosul in 2014. The Islamic State unexpectedly takes over Mosul, and she tries to escape. Her journey is the story—a one-woman project, but this time with men involved. It’s about how people from Western countries treat war as a game, while the citizens who live there suffer the real consequences.
Yun-hua Chen is an independent film scholar and critic and associate editor of Film International Online.