Under the Fig Trees review – dreamy, sensual Tunisian drama | World cinema

The broad, coarse leaves of the fig tree provide a layer of protection from the stifling summer heat of rural Tunisia. And likewise, the fig groves offerbrief moments of respite, for the teenagers and young adults who work as fruit pickers, from the conservative restrictions and closed horizons of their village communities.

This beguiling, sun-dappled drama is the first feature from French-Tunisian film-maker Erige Sehiri, who cut her teeth in nonfiction and brings a naturalistic, unfettered documentarist’s eye to the teasing play of emotions among her non-professional cast. It’s not the kind of film that nails the audience to its seats; rather, it’s a quiet, observational piece of storytelling that pieces together the budding relationships between the labourers.

Deftly avoiding their overbearing boss, they spend more time lazily flirting with each other than they do picking figs. Fidé (Fidé Fdhili) is defiant and charismatic; she shrugs off the whispers that result from her friendship with the boss. Her younger sister Feten (Feten Fdhili) flutters with excitement when her former boyfriend, Abdou (Abdelhak Mrabti), shows up to work unexpectedly. Elsewhere in the orchard, a couple hide crates of fruit to be stolen later, and the boss abuses his power with the young women in his employ.

With its honey-drenched colour palette and sensual imagery, Under the Fig Trees captures a moment ripe with possibility, for the younger workers at least. Sehiri uses music to hint at generational differences: the exuberant teenagers belt out a festive folk song at the end of the day, while middle-aged Leila (Leila Ouhebi) softly weeps as she sings a lament.

The broad, coarse leaves of the fig tree provide a layer of protection from the stifling summer heat of rural Tunisia. And likewise, the fig groves offerbrief moments of respite, for the teenagers and young adults who work as fruit pickers, from the conservative restrictions and closed horizons of their village communities.

This beguiling, sun-dappled drama is the first feature from French-Tunisian film-maker Erige Sehiri, who cut her teeth in nonfiction and brings a naturalistic, unfettered documentarist’s eye to the teasing play of emotions among her non-professional cast. It’s not the kind of film that nails the audience to its seats; rather, it’s a quiet, observational piece of storytelling that pieces together the budding relationships between the labourers.

Deftly avoiding their overbearing boss, they spend more time lazily flirting with each other than they do picking figs. Fidé (Fidé Fdhili) is defiant and charismatic; she shrugs off the whispers that result from her friendship with the boss. Her younger sister Feten (Feten Fdhili) flutters with excitement when her former boyfriend, Abdou (Abdelhak Mrabti), shows up to work unexpectedly. Elsewhere in the orchard, a couple hide crates of fruit to be stolen later, and the boss abuses his power with the young women in his employ.

With its honey-drenched colour palette and sensual imagery, Under the Fig Trees captures a moment ripe with possibility, for the younger workers at least. Sehiri uses music to hint at generational differences: the exuberant teenagers belt out a festive folk song at the end of the day, while middle-aged Leila (Leila Ouhebi) softly weeps as she sings a lament.