Captivatingly cinematic, Mohamed Rashad’s The Settlement, a multi-national co-production between Egypt, France, Germany, Qatar, and Saudi Arabia, premiered at the Berlinale’s Perspective competition for Best First Feature — the section designed to “shine a brighter spotlight on new filmmakers,” according to the festival page.
Inspired by a true story and featuring a strong documentary-like aesthetic, the film follows Hossam and his 12-year-old brother Maro in a marginalised community in Alexandria.
They take factory jobs offered after their father’s fatal workplace accident, only to question whether his death was truly accidental.
This close-to-real-life approach is no coincidence, as Mohamed’s first feature, Little Eagles, was a documentary following a character from a modest worker’s background in Alexandria.
Born himself in Egypt’s second-largest city, Mohamed trained in filmmaking at the local Jesuit Cultural Film School, where he directed two short films, From Afar (2005) and Maxim (2007), before working as an assistant director.
He later co-founded Hassala Films, which supports debut feature projects.
In 2016, Little Eagles premiered at the Dubai International Film Festival and won Best Documentary at the Malmö Film Festival, impressing the jury with its explorative story about the past of an absent father.
Fathers, sons, and social stratum
In Mohamed’s newest film, The Settlement, although the father is absent, the events revolve around the younger son, Maro, who views his older brother, Hossam, as a father figure.
“The question of what we expect from our fathers is the same one that intrigued me in Little Eagles, but in The Settlement, it takes on a different form,” Mohamed elaborates, reflecting further on the real-life story that served as the foundation for The Settlement.
“As I wrote in my director’s statement, I have always been drawn to industrial environments. Visually, they have a strong cinematic appeal, yet they are rarely explored in Egyptian cinema,” he notes.
“From the outset, I had an image of a man working in a factory, but he doesn’t belong there – he is an outsider.
His distanced position intrigued me. I didn’t want to focus solely on the struggles of workers. I wanted someone who couldn’t even integrate into their suffering — a character so displaced that he didn’t belong anywhere.
There is a moment in the film where Hossam looks at the other workers, asking himself: ‘Is this the life I want to live?’ That question was central to my vision,” he adds.
The idea solidified when Mohamed heard a specific story from a young man he met through a friend.
“His father was a construction worker who died in an accident while working on a site. The company, instead of facing legal repercussions, offered the son his father’s job in exchange for his silence. And he accepted,” the director recounts.
“What struck me was his expression — his eyes told everything. He was building his future on the death of his father. In that moment, I realised he was the character I had envisioned.”
Initially, Mohamed was researching another project unrelated to factory workers. “I was working on a different feature and needed to conduct research. I met several workers, some of whom had survived factory accidents. That’s when I knew — this was the story I wanted to tell. The original project never materialised, but that’s how The Settlement was born.”
The factory setting and social issues
The film’s setting — an industrial factory — played a crucial role in shaping the narrative.
“Egypt has many factories and a large working-class population, yet they are rarely depicted in cinema. We don’t see them, but they exist,” Mohamed notes.
The film also subtly addresses issues such as child labour.
“Legally, children shouldn’t be working in factories, yet it happens. The elder son leaves school to work, and the younger one is destined to follow. Abeer, the young female character, also left school to start working early. These are harsh realities,” he says.
Beyond these social issues, the director emphasises his deeper artistic concerns.
“For me, the central theme is emotions — relationships, particularly between fathers and sons. Hossam’s relationship with his father was obviously complex. We don’t know if they loved or resented each other.
“Then there’s his dynamic with Maro, his younger brother, who expects paternal protection after their father’s death.
“But for Hossam, this responsibility is heavy, almost unwelcome. Maro seeks revenge for their father’s death, whereas Hossam is more conflicted about it.
“Furthermore, he cannot escape his reputation as someone who dealt with illegal affairs and is judged even in a place where everyone is struggling. No matter how hard he tries, his past follows him,” Mohamed explains.
Aesthetic commitment to realism
Regarding his approach to realism, Mohamed explains his decision to work with non-professional actors: “Coming from a documentary background, I wanted authenticity. I didn’t want actors with established careers — I was looking for fresh faces.
“The two leads, Hossam and Maro, had to be unknown to the audience. For minor roles and extras, I used real factory workers. This allowed for an organic collaboration — actors learned from workers, and the workers brought authenticity to the film.”
Adham Shoukr, who plays Hossam, visited the factory multiple times before filming to familiarise himself with the environment. This experience helped him overcome the initial intimidation of working in such a demanding setting and allowed him to learn how to operate the machinery. He spent hours with real workers, who generously and patiently taught him about their daily tasks.
Young Ziad Islam was selected for the role of Maro from over 100 auditioning actors. He worked closely with Mohamed, spending extensive time preparing, rehearsing dialogue, and selecting costumes daily until filming began.
“Despite his young age, Maro is a complex character shaped by struggles at home and beyond, with his greatest challenge being the loss of his father. Osama enjoyed portraying his journey,” says the filmmaker.
In saying this, Mohamed emphasises that he was determined to maintain control over the dialogue.
“I didn’t allow improvisation. In Egypt, when actors portray characters from underprivileged backgrounds, they often rely on clichés and exaggerated slang. I find that very artificial, so I ensured everything was scripted,” he explains.
Love in any circumstance
As for the film’s subtle love story between Hossam and Abeer, the intention was to contrast their emotions with the rough industrial setting.
“Their love is innocent yet impossible. Both Hossam and Abeer share a similar past — her mother also died in a factory accident. Maybe that’s what draws her to him. But at the same time, she’s afraid of him because of his rough past.
“That mix is what I found so interesting about her; she has a quiet strength and a deep, hidden femininity that really attracted me. They meet in grim, grey spaces filled with machines and dust.
“There’s no romantic setting, yet their emotions exist despite this harsh backdrop,” Mohamed says.
This contrast was purely intentional, admits Mohamed, and it intensifies the characters’ otherwise innocent interaction, woven through phone calls and stolen glances.
Mariana Hristova is a freelance film critic, cultural journalist, and programmer. She contributes to national and international outlets and has curated programs for Filmoteca De Catalunya, Arxiu Xcèntric, goEast Wiesbaden, etc. Her professional interests include cinema from the European peripheries and archival and amateur films
