A quick Google search tells me that Alkhallat means "blender" or "mixer" in Arabic. It makes sense, then, that in Alkhallat+: The Series, various moods and story types are blended to create a fantastical brew of romance, comedy, poetry, and a sprinkling of sci-fi. What should we make of that "+" in the title? Perhaps it suggests the intensity of this mixture. The four episodes—call them four short films, if you like—serve as an apt format for the filmmakers to indulge in their experiment and offer viewers something different and quirky. Alkhallat+ is essentially an anthology, and each story strives to be entertainingly offbeat. The series, however, has its hits and misses like most anthologies.
The first story, Death Road, is part family dramedy, part teen romance, part action thriller, and part coming-of-age tale. It centers on a 17-year-old boy, Rakan (Omar Alqadi), who is told to act like a "man" by his mother because he appears timid. When she asks him to tell his father to slow down the car, he struggles to speak up, intimidated by his strict parent. What makes someone a "man"? Are you a man if you drive? What if you smoke or drink? If you are brawny? It is evident that Rakan is fed traditional notions of masculinity. When he is asked to drive, he, feeling newly responsible, feels thrilled. He even spits on a black Jeep to assert what he believes to be his "male superiority." To impress a beautiful woman named Nadia (Manal Al Ahmed), Rakan puts on a show of exaggerated masculinity and humor, even mimicking a blind gas station employee, Abu Merdaa (Mohammed AlDokhei).
What Rakan ultimately realizes is that a macho facade will neither make him a man nor impress the girl of his dreams. According to Death Road, the real man fights for the good of his country—someone capable of confronting evil, even with a physical disability. He is also someone comfortable in his own skin. It is no surprise, then, that Abu Merdaa turns out to be the true hero of the story. By letting go of the pressure to maintain a particular image for his family, Rakan, too, eventually performs a genuinely heroic deed.
The second story, Runaway Rampage, curiously opens with two jerboas fleeing from Agab (Ziyad Alamri), a security guard who has a crush on a model named Gigi (Myriem Boukadida). His dream comes true when his firm is assigned to handle security for a fashion show led by designer Morticia (Katja Weitzenböck), where Gigi is set to make an appearance. In some ways, Runaway Rampage resembles Death Road: both feature male protagonists attempting to impress women through performative masculinity before eventually maturing. While Rakan learns he need not live according to others' expectations, Agab comes to recognize the cruelty of his treatment of animals such as jerboas, which he has kept confined in cages. In Runaway Rampage, a simple pleading gesture from an animal nudges a man toward greater humanity.
While the first two stories convey worthwhile messages, they feel more earnest than memorable. The fourth episode, Twisted Tongue, is the weakest of the lot. It follows Ben Shamlan (Fahad AlMutairi), a poet struggling with self-doubt and a persistent stutter. After losing a humiliating poetry duel to his rival (Saeed Ben Mane'e), Ben encounters a jinn (Mane'e Ben Shalhat), who promises to cure his speech impediment by guiding him into a surreal realm representing his subconscious. There, Ben confronts the figure of a giant woman. Eventually, it's suggested that Ben's parents are responsible for his stutter, which feels reductive. Then again, the episode seems less concerned with psychological plausibility than with dreamlike imagery. Twisted Tongue ultimately plays like a collection of visually appealing but loosely connected ideas that strive, somewhat unsuccessfully, for mysticism and meaning.
I have saved the best for last. Mars Race is clever, goofy, and unexpectedly touching. It almost single-handedly rescues the anthology from mediocrity. The story imagines America and China competing to be the first to reach Mars; in pursuit of this goal, two Americans—Lester (Nick Cornwall) and Daniel (Mishaal Tamer)—travel to Saudi Arabia and recruit an aspiring film producer named Saad (Abdullah AlDrees). In a delightfully comic opening scene, Saad photographs a wedding without realizing there is no memory card in his camera. What distinguishes Mars Race from the other episodes is the confidence with which it blends tones and genres. It is partly about filmmaking and partly about mentorship—Lester explains that producers must be creative, while Saad demonstrates surprising skill in guiding an actor during the fake-landing shooting. Above all, however, Mars Race is tremendously entertaining. At one point, both China and America appear to land on "Mars" simultaneously. I will not spoil how the episode resolves this development, except to say that the live broadcast of the "landing" produced one of the biggest laughs of the series. Mars Race sneaks up on you; when all the pieces fall into place, the result is deeply satisfying. What a sweet, funny, and delightful film.
Final Score- [6/10]
Reviewed by - Vikas Yadav
Follow @vikasonorous on Twitter
Publisher at Midgard Times