★★★½
Hijamat explores humility through family, religion, and sexuality, offering an insightful and deeply affecting look at modern religion and the cultural stigma surrounding sexual orientation.
“An insightful and deeply affecting look at modern religion and the cultural stigma surrounding sexual orientation.”
Nader Saeivar crafts the perfect blend of a character-driven narrative and a plot-driven story.
While sexuality and sexual orientation sit at the center of the premise, the film primarily focuses on the elder brother of the film’s true protagonist.
Saeivar’s decision to center the narrative on the elder brother, Murad, instead of Kerem is a bold one, yet it pays off tenfold.
By having the story revolve around a character who, by all standards, is a good, practicing Muslim—someone who fits in, doesn’t stand out, and isn’t personally attacked, either morally or physically—Saeivar allows not only for insight, but for audiences to question the practices, beliefs, and control of the mosque and the imam.
“Nader Saeivar crafts the perfect blend of a character-driven narrative and a plot-driven story.”
Saeivar’s script captures both the traditional and modern outlook on religion, showcasing not only how seriously people take their faith, but also the influence and control the mosque and the imam have over the community.
It explores ideas of extortion, favoritism, and the use of religion for personal gain, all while doing so with restraint, never making outright claims, but merely presenting the ideas for audiences to consider.
This is where Saeivar’s direction comes into play. From the opening shot, it’s clear he has a distinct vision for the film, and he brings it to life effortlessly.
From the beginning, you can sense the disconnect between Murad and his religion.
He is a practicing Muslim who attends the mosque, yet we gradually see the distance he begins to create—not physically, but mentally.
Saeivar showcases the cracks in the foundation while highlighting these issues without drawing direct attention to them.
The film also touches on the relationship between religion and personal identity, exploring one character’s journey of having to pretend to be Christian and practice another faith in order to survive. In doing so, it examines the idea of losing a part of yourself that can never truly be reclaimed.
That directly feeds back into the film’s underlying premise: religion.
While the tone, pacing, and structure remain consistent throughout, the pacing is slower than necessary. It allows time for reflection and for analyzing the film’s undertones more carefully. However, there are enough character- and plot-driven moments to remain engaging.
The film also touches on the marital issues between Murad and his wife, making it clear that something isn’t right. They aren’t happy—more specifically, Murad isn’t happy—almost as if he regrets the decision. However, there isn’t enough development within that subplot to conclude what the root cause of the marriage’s problems is, whether that be his sexuality or something else.
As much as the film focuses on Murad, and while he remains at the center of the story, everything ultimately comes back to his view of the mosque, whether through the way his brother is treated, his father, or how the imam runs the mosque.
Although the film touches on other aspects of his life, they never receive the same level of attention, instead intentionally giving priority to the central conflict.
Emre Erkmen’s cinematography is crisp, balanced, and consistently engaging throughout. In fact, it is Erkmen’s cinematography that holds the film together, giving it a tight visual structure and cinematic tone that allows the film to flow effectively and effortlessly.
“Excellently crafted in its technical execution.”
Nader Saeivar’s Hijamat is excellently crafted in its technical execution, with performances that are consistently strong, if not especially memorable.
Its only real obstacle is pacing that remains consistently slower than necessary for a drama.