“I couldn’t understand why the characters were still living with their parents!” Between bang-trimming and magazine skimming, that was what Jennifer, my hair stylist here in Saint Louis, asked me while we discussed the Lebanese movie “Caramel,” released in the summer of 2008. The subject of foreign movies somehow came up, and as soon as Jennifer found out that I was originally Lebanese she wanted me to know how much she enjoyed “Caramel,” which, by the way, I can still find On Demand, and seems to be the only Lebanese movie easily available at Blockbuster! 

“But then I asked a friend of mine and she told me that this is how it is there, even working adults tend to stay living at home with their parents, until they get married. More women than men though, right?” To which I nodded in agreement, and told her that although this type of behavior is becoming less and less popular, especially in the capital city, overall it is still the norm. Most adults stay at their parents’ home until they get married, or have to move abroad for work.

Jennifer said she liked the movie a lot and its being set up in a beauty parlor didn’t hurt a bit. Five women meet regularly in a beauty salon, which becomes the microcosm of the city where several generations come into contact, talk and confide in each other. The writer, Labaki, who is also the main character, Layale, is in love with a married man. Her girl friends disapprove, perhaps not so much that he is married but that she waits for him to call her all day ever day as soon as he gets away from his wife, so they can spend some time alone with each other. They can’t bear to watch her continue to painfully lie to herself that he will eventually leave his wife and daughter for her.

Her girl friends, each with her own dilemma, or at least what their society would label a dilemma, face their challenges alone as well as together. Nisrine is about to get married but has not told her husband-to-be that she is not a virgin. Rima is tormented by her preference for women, and Jamale, a divorcée, refuses to grow old and does everything in her power to prove to herself and the youth-obsessed society she lives in, that she is still young and desirable. Rose has sacrificed her whole life to take care of her elderly sister and when she gets another chance at love she confuses what she really wants with what is expected of her from the world that surrounds her.

The setting is war torn Beirut, but war has no place in this film. It’s common for Lebanese movies to fall into two types; either documentaries of the wars that have taken place on its land or fictionalized love stories with a backdrop of a war-ravaged city. As a refreshing contrast, “Caramel” drops this topic and instead focuses on the five women whose lives interlink. They share their experiences through intimate and liberated conversations about men, sex, and motherhood, and through each other, find comfort and entertainment.

Beirut is a society that largely focuses on external beauty and youth. It celebrates these concepts and glorifies women as the ultimate source of splendor and youth. There’s constant pressure on women to look attractive, no matter what age they are and to what socioeconomic category they belong. This fixation on what looks good, as opposed to what is good, creates heavy pressure on the women who seem to have to constantly keep up, in order to fit in. Not only are youth and beauty synonymous, but the virginal bride is also seen as the perfect bride. “No one has kissed this girl’s mouth but her mother” is a common Lebanese, if not Arab, saying among the older generation, who seek this type of “purity” for their sons and brothers, who of course may, and should, have as much sexual experimentation as they please! Nowadays, the younger generation might use this line playfully and in good humor, but still, a remarkable number of people in the younger generation take this expression a bit too seriously.

Being set in a beauty salon appears to be the ultimate cliché, providing a glaring analogy, but it undoubtedly serves as the perfect space as well. What makes the movie interesting and unique is the fact that it’s a pioneer in tackling societal pressures that include acceptable norms of sexuality, while courageously addressing these issues through fictionalized cases. This movie touches on these topics in light and heartfelt ways. Although the characters may seem a little one-dimensional at times, if not stereotypical, the movie does succeed in capturing the viewer’s heart and the message is not overshadowed. Labaki manages to shed light on subjects that otherwise may not be discussed much out in the open in Lebanese society, although it is a society that considers itself relatively liberal and/or Westernized, when compared to the rest of the Middle East. Lebanese society wants to discard its seemingly conservative robe and “imitate” the “modern” West, while still clinging on to its much-cherished Eastern traditions. It is a society where religion is tightly woven into the government and political makeup of the country, as well as the home and family. There exists a huge contrast between families who live in neighborly towns or even in the same street, when it comes to what each might consider socially acceptable and what others might consider outrageous taboo. Caramel includes women who come from different religious backgrounds and the viewer soon becomes aware of this fact, from the gold cross pendants on the chest, to the hijab at the dinner table.  This is a perfect depiction of the essence and beauty of Lebanon.

The heart of this movie is love, friendship and how women find solace in each other, while struggling to show their strength, and prove their liberty and relevance. In most cultures, be them Western or Eastern we are taught to abhor and denounce the mistress character, and a lot of Hollywood movies blatantly condemn her as an overall “bad” person, which is of course quite a narrow-minded view of things. Layale, in this case the “mistress,” is shown in another light. Her fragility as well as her strength and goodness are obvious. I found myself sympathizing instead of wagging my finger. In a sense I found myself being her friend. And for this to be shown in a movie made in the Middle East, about Middle Eastern women, is definitely rewarding. Perhaps men may have different views about this movie, since it revolves around what women go through as “victims” of society, and might find the issues that are tackled tiresome if not offensive and unseemly. Or on the other hand, they might, like my husband and a lot of my men friends and acquaintances, notice the beauty that lies beyond these issues, and recognize that the movie celebrates the commonalities that are universal to all women while learning a little about their friendships. “Caramel” provides an insightful look at women’s lives in modern day Lebanon, and although it’s not distinctive conceptually, its warmth and sensitivity make it outstanding. Oh, the soundtrack as well! the music is just as intimate and exceptional.