Maya, played by Nicolette Pearse, becomes enthralled with Amanda Babaei's Samar in both a journalistic and carnal manner in director Anita Doron's 'Maya & Samar.'Nikos Nikolopoulos/Supplied
Maya & Samar
Directed by Anita Doron
Written by Tamara Faith Berger
Starring Nicolette Pearse, Amanda Babaei Vieira and Agni Scott
Classification 18A; 95 minutes
Opens in select theatres March 20
About halfway through Maya & Samar, journalist Maya (Nicolette Pearse, in an impressive lead performance) is reminded of a warning her professor gave her in university about “stories crossing cultural lines of understanding,” as her university pal Rebecca puts it.
It’s a warning that arguably sees the film’s director and writer attempt to acknowledge their own cultural trespassing. But, as American comedian Bo Burnham reminded us in Inside: “Self-awareness does not absolve anybody of anything.”
At this point in Anita Doron’s film, Maya has settled into a vacation in Athens, a trip meant to reunite her with Rebecca (Brenna Coates), who traded in the CN Tower for the Acropolis some time ago. Maya, who covers sex and pop culture for an indie website back home in Toronto, has gone to a rave, taken molly, had casual sex and met a queer Afghan refugee stripper named Samar (Amanda Babaei Vieira).
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Maya becomes enthralled with Samar, in both a journalistic and carnal manner, with the former taking priority, at least at the beginning. In their moments of intimacy though, Pearse and Babaei Vieira create a world unto their own with Doron’s direction beautifully allowing the sights and sounds of Maya and Samar’s environment to fall away as they embrace.
As Maya learns more of Samar’s escape from Kabul, she becomes increasingly emboldened to save her, even if she denies it to a fellow journalist, and the film’s cultural tour guide, Myrto (Agni Scott). Maya’s saviourism reaches a boiling point when Samar is attacked on-camera and Maya posts the footage online.
Nicolette Pearse puts in an impressive lead performance as Maya.Nikos Nikolopoulos/Supplied
Maya’s missteps emerge in parallel to the film’s, with Rebecca acting as the audience’s moral compass, voicing every concern along the way. Where Maya treats Samar as an interview subject, the film, too, positions Samar as an idea rather than a person – a broader problem to be fixed. Maya never asks Samar for her surname, and the film gives us even less characterization.
We don’t ever actually hear the advice Rebecca and Maya’s professor gave them in their student days, we just know that Rebecca trusts Maya “would never do this.” It’s possible they were words of caution about feigning comprehension toward cultures (and their causes) outside of their own experiences, or maybe even advising against taking on the saviour position where West is best.
At the end of the film, it looks as if Maya will have to reckon with the consequences of failing to heed her professor’s words, whatever they may be. An 11th-hour plot twist denies Maya, and the film, any such growth. Instead, Maya walks away feeling used and dejected, a pointed choice from Doron and screenwriter Tamara Faith Berger.
Pearse and Babaei Vieira create a world unto their own in intimate moments, with Doron’s direction beautifully allowing the sights and sounds of their environment to fall away as they embrace.Nikos Nikolopoulos/Supplied
Maya & Samar is told from Maya’s perspective, and therefore a perspective where Western idealism inherently trumps nuance. Although Berger’s script does well to not presume it has the answers to the multitude of lofty matters it flags, Burnham’s confessional realization rings loudly in this instance. It isn’t enough that Maya & Samar contains moments of awareness with respect to its misgivings, especially when it renders Samar so incompletely.
Without taking the time to properly understand or investigate Samar’s situation, the film itself merely represents a tourist cosplaying compassion while on the ground, before flying back to the comforts of Toronto’s nightclub scene.
Special to The Globe and Mail