Aisha Can't Fly Away: Ostrich Effect 2.0
A tall and beautiful African woman graces the screen in long, runway-like strides, mostly shot from behind. There are also many shots of her statuette-like face, and the only thought you have at the beginning of the movie is this: when we are shown images like these from the modeling world, it’s usually success stories that are told.
However, this is not the case for this movie: Aisha Can’t Fly Away (Eayshat Lam Taeud Qadiratan Ealaa Altayaran) by Egyptian director Morad Mostafa. It is also not quite what you read in the synopsis prior to its screening at GAIFF 2025, which is something like “the tale of the hardships of a 26-year-old Sudanese migrant worker in Egypt, in Cairo’s underworld of African communities and local gangs.”
The story of Aisha, the titular character (played by Buliana Simon), was perhaps the most impressively and uniquely presented among the stories I watched as a FIPRESCI juror for GAIFF 2025. They included the story of a free-spirited Egyptian former political prisoner (Abu Zaabal 89) and the beauty spotted in the total destruction of Mosul (Lions on the River Tigris); the story of a Chechen man from France facing alienation in his own community back home (Imago) and the stories of people shared during the beautification procedures in Lebanon (A Frown Gone Mad); the story of strong people of Armenia and Artsakh still facing harsh consequences and trauma in post-war Armenia (After the Dreaming); two stories from Gaza, on brave war photojournalist Fatima Hassouna (Put Your Soul on Your Hand and Walk) and the satiric tale of a hero in what is “the first action movie from Gaza” (Once Upon a Time in Gaza); two more stories from Iran, one showing the challenges of Iranian youth in organizing something as simple as a party (The Crowd), and one recapturing Tehran’s realities from huge quantities of pre-Revolutionary film footage (Tehran: An Unfinished History.)
As it evolves, the story of Aisha proves to be much different from its standard synopsis. Here’s what it is from the point of view of a film journalist, and a bit of orientalist analysis, too.
First of all, this is a very real story (based on actual incident encountered by the director, involving an African migrant woman), although this is not mentioned as such at the beginning or the end of the movie, as it usually would be. However, I believe this did not need to be identified as such, as stories like this—stories of the “unimportant” and the suffering—are true stories, as we see them in media on daily basis and know they are not only true stories, but stories shared by so many millions of people worldwide.
What is more important here is not the story itself, but how the director chose to tell it. In this case, not only has this topic been an interest of this young director since the beginning of his filmmaking career, but also that it was something he knew “first hand,” as his native neighborhood in Cairo, Ain Shams, is the setting where the story of Aisha unfolds. The director’s connection to what he is observing and sharing confirms the film’s authenticity.
The intention here matters too: The director said he wanted to tell something new about Egyptian society, or rather the “parallel society” in Egypt. It is also obvious that the director did not want to merely present a victim but also a strong character. His ambition marks an advance in Egyptian cinema by making an African a key character, and saying something new on this topic. What Mostafa has done in terms of depicting this parallel society is very daring, and might be compared to pieces by his great compatriots in literature, like Yousef Idris—stories about Egyptian society which that very society did not like.
We may say that Mostafa well succeeded in the above mentioned goals. The style of magical realism is what helped him to do so.
The story of Aisha grows slowly, from the depiction of the hard life of a migrant worker into the realm of magical realism, after an imaginary ostrich appears in Aisha’s life (perhaps the only magical thing in her life). And that ostrich, in a way, serves as a key to bringing some clarity to this work: The ostrich is a somewhat exotic and beautiful bird, but one which cannot fly. Likewise Aisha, who by the end of the film is shown growing into something of an ostrich, by the condition of her skin and the eruption of what seem to be feathers in some parts of her body.
This latter line does not develop into what viewers might expect (Aisha does not turn into an ostrich or a birdwoman), and is a bit underdeveloped. However the ostrich remains a strong symbol throughout the film.
What would help the fuller understanding of this film might lie in the context of Egyptian cinema and literature, as well as some orientalist observations. So, let’s go for them.
Morad Mostafa says in an interview that the topic covered in Aisha Can’t Fly Away had interested him since his early short films, and he sees it as part of a trilogy, together with some of his earlier works; this might well explain why Aisha lacks a bit of cohesion at some points. It might well be that one needs to consider seeing other works by Mostafa to fully grasp Aisha.
Diving even deeper, as someone with the background of oriental studies, I also feel that the director goes a bit “iconoclastic”: For example, he seems to play with one of the most sacred names in Islam, that is of Aisha, the beloved very young wife of the Prophet Muhammad, and further deconstructs it.
Just like that historical Aisha, Aisha the movie character too is linked to a man much older—her patient (and abuser), while involved with another man, a local cook. Aisha the character is covered, like the most ardent Muslim female is expected to be. But on the other hand, she is involved in all possible sins and crimes that the traditional Islamic community would strongly reject. It is very interesting, and authentic, that the director shows Aisha uncovered in private moments (this is how even the most conservative Muslim women are, however overlooked in movies). Just like the historical Aisha, Simon’s character is also caught in a scene in which her beloved, the cook, is intercepted and questioned on whether they sleep together or not.
Aisha’s possible relatedness to Aisha of the Prophet, is also revealed in the feature of keeping calm (just like historical Aisha, who is said “had no other choice but to remain patient” in very difficult situations of her life related to adultery, according to Islamic tradition). Aisha—the film character—keeps it calm, or at least keeps a poker face in the most difficult situations.
In those moments, as a spectator, you not only pity Aisha, not only empathize, but also cannot but admire the beautiful and mesmerizing profiles and portraits Mostafa shows to us. So, too, for the not-so-nice “angles” on her: In the most (literally) gut-wrenching, near-cannibalistic scene, we see Aisha, in the presence of her ostrich, devouring the intestines of her abuser.
Apart from being a very daring, risky scene, it also has references in Islamic culture and history; it is reminiscent of the story of Hind, who eats the kidney of her nemesis Hamza. And by the way, Aisha of the Prophet has her animal of association: camel. Camels and ostriches are also perhaps the most praised animals in qasidas–classical pre-Islamic poems of Arabia.
Interestingly, some of Mostafa’s previous films also bear the names of wives of the Prophet, like Khadija, and Mariam.
I personally favored this movie as the FIPRESCI jury winner for GAIFF 2025, as it seemed to be the most deserving, cinematographically speaking, of all 10 candidates. Some other works spoke better to me in terms of topics raised, in terms of personal relatability (like the story in a post-war Armenia, so far the most interestingly done movie on this topic, or the stories from Gaza and Iraq, where I served my humanitarian missions.) However I strongly believe what makes good journalistic reporting, does not necessarily need to be dubbed a film, no matter how topical the issues they raise or how close they are to me personally.
This deconstructing story-telling by Morad Mostafa was the most cinematographic piece of all 10 candidates, quite skillfully done, amazingly aesthetic, and very mature for a debut feature movie.
Same goes for the lead actress, also making her debut. Buliana Simon’s grace and posture give away the profession she actually came from, which is modeling. She is quite impressive as a model, too. And the visual parallels you drive between the character Aisha and Simon the model, also speak for her talent of transformation and strong acting potential.
Interestingly Aisha Can’t Fly Away was pitched at GAIFF too, couple of years ago. Unfortunately, when screening at GAIFF as a strong competitor, and eventual FIPRESCI winner, the film was not shown at the final screenings of “Golden Apricot” winning movies. The festival said it was due to “lack of venues”…
Perhaps I could best conclude by quoting myself from the draft statement I had put down for the GAIFF closing ceremony:
“GAIFF 2025 FIPRESCI choice is Aisha Can’t Fly Away, for bringing onto screen the topical issues faced by millions and millions of people worldwide as migrant workers, and doing that with true artistic and cinematic approach; sharing with us the despair of their daily struggles and the beauty of their dreams, and, more impressively, being able to do that in a directorial debut, through an acting debut, in quite a mature way, in the amazing balance of gut-wrenching visual statements and masterly aestheticism too. It might be that Aisha, indeed, cannot fly away, but the kind of great art of cinema that Mr. Mostafa seems striving for, does soar high.”
And this is a totally new view, mirroring its opposite: what we know as the “ostrich effect.”
David P. Vardazarian
Edited by Robert Horton
© FIPRESCI 2025