After Papicha, we finished working on the history of Algeria and the strength of the women, and we decided to continue this work with the same cast and the same actors, especially with Lyna. For us, it was very important to talk about the new generation of women in Algeria and tell about how strong they are. For Lyna it was a very nice discovery in Papicha, and the two of us are very connected in work and in life. She speaks about her movies, and I speak about mine. We are very good friends now.
The process was very hard because she had never danced classically. So she spent one year working on classical and contemporary choreography as well as sign language. Then, we spent about one year working on this to have a very good transformation – to start with very classical, rigid, and serious dance and transforming to very organic choreography and adding sign language. We worked very long with the choreographer, who is Moroccan and danced with Beyoncé.
It was a very interesting process between Lyna, the choreographer, the composer of the music, and I because it was very hard to find a good balance for the tribal dance. There is percussion and African music by the end. It was a very interesting and stimulating process with the entire artistic team.

I direct a lot of documentaries, and I work hard on the script. So the first step for me is to have a very specific, strong, natural, and realistic script. It’s all about the evolution of the characters, even the small ones. The second thing is that it was important that all the actors were Algerian. They speak Algerian and Arabic. For me it’s necessary because it’s natural, which is necessary in this context. The actors themselves should understand the political situations, and they know how the women speak, move, and interact with each other. There is something very organic there. These things, you can’t direct an actor to do. It’s very natural and very specific. This is for the reality of what we have in the movie. After that, we worked on sign language and the writing on the skin. It represented the transformation of the character – speaking and being able to express herself, which is something natural in human beings.
It’s like cooking: we put all the ingredients together and composed it. We rehearsed a lot, there was a lot of repetition. I spent two years on the script and another year of preparation and dance rehearsals. When I’m on set, what matters to me isn’t about telling people to walk from one point to another. It’s something more organic. The actors move how they want, and our director of photography moves with them to take good shots. Otherwise it’s limiting. As an actor, the director will tell you: ‘walk from here to there’ and ‘put your hand in your pocket like this.’ It’s the opposite for me. My actor is free, and if they feel that they have to go this way because it’s natural, my DP will follow the action. Of course, it’s very hard to edit because every take is different, but when we fix it we do it twice, three times, four times. I think this is something very specific, but it’s my way of directing. I like it this way. If I force you to do something and it’s not natural, we’ll notice it on your face, and your face is your instrument.

Yes, I have a lot of culture, but I spent about twenty years in Algeria, and that is the biggest part of me, as well as French. For me, it’s important to feature multiculturalism and for the characters to have a lot of diversity and to have some ambivalence. It’s not all black and white. Even when I started working on the characters, it was paramount to have different ways of thinking among them. I try to understand each of them and make them to be very universal. I don’t know if my experiences were included, maybe unconsciously. We can perhaps feel it through the movie. It’s certainly present when I write the characters.

It’s very important because in Papicha I worked a lot on the sound design. And it was vital for Houria too because there are deaf people [in the film]. It was imperative to work on the earlier parts when Houria can speak and later when she can’t speak – to create the sounds of the town, the wind, and the sea. This is crucial to have the reality, the concrete situations, and the context. Afterwards, in the second part when she can’t speak, it became poetic, so we left space for the silence. It was very symbolic. Also, when you can’t speak, the way you express yourself changes. You listen more, so it was necessary to have specific sounds.

Yes, of course. It’s crucial to have this osmosis and symbolism. When it’s sunny, you are better and happier in life than when it’s raining. It’s more positive and hopeful. For me, it was a very conscious decision. It’s one of the elements of the dramaturgy – the weather and the nature – to amplify or reduce the emotion. It’s normal. The weather is good composition for the actors and for the characters as well as the feelings.

For the scene when Lyna looks at herself in the mirror and sees the scar, she spent about an hour and a half with us, and we saw all the transformation. In the beginning she’s very young, and by the end, she’s had a very strong journey to transform all this darkness into something positive. When she looks at herself she changes, and all the symbolism of the movie is about how to move on from childhood to adulthood. It’s all about transformation. In the beginning, she is living with her mother, and she’s her mother’s student. She’s oppressed. By the end, when she looks at herself, she is a choreographer. She’s grown up; she’s an adult now, and there’s a transformation in her person.
What is important is how we portrayed Houria before and after the accident. After the accident, she is stronger. She uses these very bad things to grow up, to find inspiration, to nourish her personality, and to nourish her way of working. She creates after the trauma. She creates her own choreography. She is stronger in the end than before the accident.

This transformation is vital to me. Houria starts in white, which is very classical. She also starts in very tight shoes but by the end, she’s barefoot. She’s completely free. There is African percussion and there is something very organic, very tribal. This is the liberation of the actor, the liberation of the character. She spends the whole journey and adventure with the audience. You live with her; you start with something very white and you finish with something very shiny, very free.
It’s her story of emancipation and liberation from her mother, from classical dance, where everybody is the same and has the same dress code, neck and feet. In the end, everybody and everything is very different, and you confirm your identity, your specificity. This is the difference, and for me, it was all about finding in ourselves the strongest things we had and confirm it – not needing to be ashamed. You need to confirm these changes. The differences are your strongest aspects, and this is the message of the movie. Even though Houria has a disability at the end, she is stronger than before.