Director: Jacques Audiard
Writers: Thomas Bidegain, Jacques Audiard, Abdel Raouf Dafri, Nicolas Peufaillit
Photography: Stephane Fontaine
Music: Alexandre Desplat
Editor: Juliette Welfling
Cast: Tahar Rahim, Niels Arestrup, Adel Bencherif, Hichem Yacoubi, Reda Kateb, Slimane Dazi, Jean-Philippe Ricci, Gilles Cohen, Leïla Bekhti, Jean-Emmanuel Pagni, Frédéric Graziani, Alaa Oumouzoune
I must admit I originally took the title of this epic prison movie a little too literally. I knew it involved an Arab in a European prison and I worried it was about some bearded chin-stroking holy man enlightening other inmates (or failing to), heading down some solemn religious line. The running time was the final detail that put me off it. But it turns out A Prophet is one of those long movies I’m happy to see, immersive, intense and kinetic, sending us to places where time does not exist. The camera is restless, roving, often handheld in these tight claustrophobic prison spaces. Tahar Rahim as Malik El Djebena serves up a performance that is masterful and unforgettable, inhabiting a majority of these scenes and virtually carrying the picture by himself, though he is amply supported, notably by Niels Arestrup as Cesar Luciano, the Corsican center of power in the suffocating French prison setting.
A Prophet also counts as both a coming-of-age and an immigrant picture, as the Muslim El Djebena is 19 when he is convicted of unspecified crimes and sentenced to six years in an adult prison, after spending what sounds like much of his adolescence in juvenile facilities. El Djebena, arriving at prison, has obviously been beaten recently. One wound on his face is recent and ultimately leaves a scar. He is self-possessed and wary, stalking through his days as a loner. Prison life is hard. Early on he is a victim when he is pushed around for his shoes, which are taken off his feet. When the prisoner Reyeb (Hichem Yacoubi) attempts to pick him up, offering hash for oral sex, the outline of El Djebena’s new life starts to come into focus.
I must admit I originally took the title of this epic prison movie a little too literally. I knew it involved an Arab in a European prison and I worried it was about some bearded chin-stroking holy man enlightening other inmates (or failing to), heading down some solemn religious line. The running time was the final detail that put me off it. But it turns out A Prophet is one of those long movies I’m happy to see, immersive, intense and kinetic, sending us to places where time does not exist. The camera is restless, roving, often handheld in these tight claustrophobic prison spaces. Tahar Rahim as Malik El Djebena serves up a performance that is masterful and unforgettable, inhabiting a majority of these scenes and virtually carrying the picture by himself, though he is amply supported, notably by Niels Arestrup as Cesar Luciano, the Corsican center of power in the suffocating French prison setting.
A Prophet also counts as both a coming-of-age and an immigrant picture, as the Muslim El Djebena is 19 when he is convicted of unspecified crimes and sentenced to six years in an adult prison, after spending what sounds like much of his adolescence in juvenile facilities. El Djebena, arriving at prison, has obviously been beaten recently. One wound on his face is recent and ultimately leaves a scar. He is self-possessed and wary, stalking through his days as a loner. Prison life is hard. Early on he is a victim when he is pushed around for his shoes, which are taken off his feet. When the prisoner Reyeb (Hichem Yacoubi) attempts to pick him up, offering hash for oral sex, the outline of El Djebena’s new life starts to come into focus.
El Djebena rejects Reyeb’s overtures with hostility, but Reyeb is no ordinary prisoner. He’s there for his own protection as a witness in an upcoming trial. In fact, the powerful Corsican gang in the prison has been charged with killing him before the trial. Though they have little regard for the Muslims in the prison, who of course have their own gang and center of power, they realize they have an inroad to Reyeb via El Djebana, who they coerce and train to do the job. It’s an ugly, bloody job involving a razor blade hidden in his mouth, with the jugular vein the single focus of attack in the struggle. Death follows by bleeding out.
El Dejebena’s singular career and rise to power over his prison term starts there. Under direction of Luciano, El Djebena formally comes under the Corsicans’ protection. They still have little regard for him, using him as a servant who makes coffee and washes dishes. He is literally haunted by Reyeb who often appears in El Djebena’s cell. Reyeb was using El Djebena for sex but he was also offering friendship, recommending some of his books and then, when he realized El Djebena could not read, counselling him to take advantage of the learning opportunities in the prison. Now El Djebena does exactly that, learning to read and beginning to understand better how things work.
El Djebena has innate street smarts already, of course. The most interesting relationship in the picture is the one between El Djebena and Luciano, who mentors him and abuses him in about equal measures, refusing to take him as an equal but in many ways treating him as one. About midway along, most of the Corsican gang is transferred elsewhere or released, for reasons that are unclear but seem to be political. Luciano is left behind—he is there for other crimes—and an inevitable loss of power follows. His grip on El Djebena is as fiercely possessive as ever but it’s coming loose as Luciano visibly ages and weakens.
Eventually El Djebena earns the right to curious “leave” days, where he’s allowed out on his own for 12 hours from 7 in the morning to 7 at night. He gets in big trouble if he’s ever late but otherwise he seems to be on his own, accountable to no one. So among other things he’s beefing up the drug dealing side business he has been working since falling in with the Corsicans, and now appears to be expanding into other things as well. Of course, he’s also usually on some errand for Luciano as well, but Luciano’s grip is ever-loosening now, until a climactic scene toward the end.
A Prophet reminded me of the original modern-day gangster movie The Godfather as well as Scorsese pictures like Goodfellas and the epic Brazilian crime story City of God—sprawling, personal stores of rise and fall and survival. It also takes the prison movie and blows it up into something larger than any genre limitations without remotely feeling like a stunt. It acknowledges the brutalities but stays focused on the growth and thriving that is somehow possible even in prison.
El Dejebena’s singular career and rise to power over his prison term starts there. Under direction of Luciano, El Djebena formally comes under the Corsicans’ protection. They still have little regard for him, using him as a servant who makes coffee and washes dishes. He is literally haunted by Reyeb who often appears in El Djebena’s cell. Reyeb was using El Djebena for sex but he was also offering friendship, recommending some of his books and then, when he realized El Djebena could not read, counselling him to take advantage of the learning opportunities in the prison. Now El Djebena does exactly that, learning to read and beginning to understand better how things work.
El Djebena has innate street smarts already, of course. The most interesting relationship in the picture is the one between El Djebena and Luciano, who mentors him and abuses him in about equal measures, refusing to take him as an equal but in many ways treating him as one. About midway along, most of the Corsican gang is transferred elsewhere or released, for reasons that are unclear but seem to be political. Luciano is left behind—he is there for other crimes—and an inevitable loss of power follows. His grip on El Djebena is as fiercely possessive as ever but it’s coming loose as Luciano visibly ages and weakens.
Eventually El Djebena earns the right to curious “leave” days, where he’s allowed out on his own for 12 hours from 7 in the morning to 7 at night. He gets in big trouble if he’s ever late but otherwise he seems to be on his own, accountable to no one. So among other things he’s beefing up the drug dealing side business he has been working since falling in with the Corsicans, and now appears to be expanding into other things as well. Of course, he’s also usually on some errand for Luciano as well, but Luciano’s grip is ever-loosening now, until a climactic scene toward the end.
A Prophet reminded me of the original modern-day gangster movie The Godfather as well as Scorsese pictures like Goodfellas and the epic Brazilian crime story City of God—sprawling, personal stores of rise and fall and survival. It also takes the prison movie and blows it up into something larger than any genre limitations without remotely feeling like a stunt. It acknowledges the brutalities but stays focused on the growth and thriving that is somehow possible even in prison.
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