Sooner or later, unless we are very lucky, there comes a time where we pretend to be something we are not, just to get away from the life we no longer wish to live as it has left us unfulfilled. We run, but we cannot hide. Perhaps we try to escape into the lives of others who may seem like friends. But since we are too desperate to find a safe port, ending up in more trouble than we were before becomes the true peril. At this point, fear can take hold. There is the reasonable terror of unknown things, there is the folly of terror entirely fabricated in the mind. Confusion and the sense of being lost takes hold. This is the dangerous time, the vulnerable time. And also, the time an opportunity to find oneself may well appear. And that’s the series of dilemmas Hafsia, the protagonist of Mark Jackson’s THIS TEACHER goes through.

Hafsia in THIS TEACHER

Hafsia Herzi in THIS TEACHER

 

Deftly, actress Hafsia Herzi carries the story in this fish-out-of-water tale with a subtle combination of dignity and abandon. Visiting New York for the first time, Hafsia comes to America to leave behind an undefined and listless life in Paris. As a French-born Arab, there is an almost innate sense of identity crisis in her. She lies about having been a nurse. Staying with her old expat buddy Sarah proves disappointing – she too has lost her identity, desperately trying to be an actress while marrying a rich American for security. When it’s obvious that Sarah’s new life doesn’t comfortably accommodate Hafsia’s expectations and needs, the latter decides to seek retreat in a country cabin. There, her inner existential horrors manifest as a nightmare built mostly on uncertainty, assumption, and the alienation simply being a Muslim woman in post 9-11 rural America can be.

Out in the wilderness in more ways than one (THIS TEACHER)

Out in the wilderness in more ways than one (THIS TEACHER)

 

Jackson doesn’t immediately give away what’s really happening to Hafsia. Early scenes in the cabin cinematically suggest what could be very real things to be scared of. Is there a bear just outside the door? Is the weirdo property manager going to try to assault her? Why are there no locks on her door? Never mind that she has no money, or that her only sponsor has effectively abandoned her, or that she has no means whatsoever of supporting herself. The camera does a lot of POV in those early nighttime scenes. The audience is primed for the usual suspects – hungry animal or potential rapist. But where Hafsia’s true adversary lies is in her mind. In other scenes, she is trying to commune with nature, and later with god. “What is the answer?” she demands to the empty woods. “You know what I am talking about!” she insists angrily. It is evident here that she herself cannot articulate the nature of her own angst. This comes through in her seemingly random jerky bodily movements and restless countenance.

THIS TEACHER

THIS TEACHER

 

The film’s exploration of Hafsia’s vulnerability doesn’t offer any real answers, choosing instead to focus on the process of her journey. Understanding the problem becomes more important than resolving it. In this way, THIS TEACHER proves to be incredibly empathetic to its protagonist. A series of scenes thrust her into culture clashes, adverse situations where her lies catch up to her in the worst way, and a moment of reunion which reflects just how empty the road to maturity can be. There are no “a-ha” moments of revelation. The world seems to become a series of traps in which conformity or rebellion can lead to equally awful outcomes. Even all the people she interacts with whose biographies seem to exude stability – the erudite urbanites, the happy young couple, the assiduous townie – have their deep flaws which when exposed, undo all pretense of the strength and self-reliability Hafsia longs for so badly. The effective supporting cast provides perfect dance partners for her drama, which shifts from faux horror to uncomfortable comedy seamlessly. It’s a brilliant depiction of the hazards we encounter seeking freedom while we ourselves are just a mess.

Audiences who enjoy powerful acting and a patiently motivated camera will be rewarded, so long as they don’t fall into the trap of a commercial film’s expectation of seeing everything wrapped neatly in a bow at the end. There is no cop-out in THIS TEACHER’s conclusion, only the most honest lesson a real educator could impart: you can’t expect answers to everything at once.