Does a parent have the right to choose the gender of their child? Can society force a father or a mother to determine the sexual identity of a newborn when nature itself has failed to do so? And can we ask them to make this decision within a maximum of three days? It’s at this cruel and nigh-on impossible crossroads that two neo-parents find themselves in L’Aiguille, Tunisian director Abdelhamid Bouchnack’s 3rd feature film which scooped Best Screenplay in the 42nd Torino Film Festival having been released in Tunisian cinemas back in December and having competed in the Tripoli Festival this September.

Previously responsible for a horror movie (Dachra, 2018) which was selected for Venice’s International Critics’ Week and for a fantasy drama (Papillon d’or, 2021) which was Tunisia’s candidate at the Oscars, the present film sees Bouchnack tackling a delicate and highly sensitive subject in Tunisian society: intersexuality, a condition which is experienced as a source of shame to be washed away through surgical intervention on the newborn in the very first days of its life, sometimes without anyone knowing. It’s a hasty decision to make – whether to keep the male or female genitals, where both are present – which can prove catastrophic as the individual’s sexual identity develops and which should be made wholly independently when the person concerned reaches adulthood.

Dali (Bilel Slatnia) and Mariem (Fatma Sfar) are a young married couple who live in Tunis and are expecting a baby. They’ve wanted it with all their hearts and, at last, after four years of trying, they finally see their baby appear on an ultrasound: a beautiful little boy. Mariem’s bump grows and their only concern seems to be finding the right name. Dali is an attentive husband and Mariem is full of joy. The atmosphere in their home is one of celebration, not least for the future grandparents, Dali’s affectionate and protective parents (Jamel Madani and Sabah Bouzouita) who also care for Mariem as if she were their own daughter, given that her parents are no longer around. On the big day, however, Dali and Mariem’s smiles vanish in hospital when they receive the news that their little boy is also a little girl (which couldn’t be picked up on the ultrasound) and that they have 72 hours to decide whether their tiny creature will be a boy or a girl. The couple react in different ways: Mariem slowly accepts the situation, while Dali can’t even face taking his son in his arms. They sink into a vortex of paranoia, the latter worrying about what people will say, the former fearing her husband might hurt their child. They keep their situation secret - even from Dali’s parents - for as long as possible, pressing both the doctor and their imam over the best decision to make.

L'Aiguille follows the family over the course of these three crucial days, between tears, doubts and revelations, and reflecting the complexities and taboos characterising a society where “you’re a man if you bring a man into the world”, where homosexuality is a source of shame, and where intersexuality is a monstrosity which must be corrected – even though, in theory, God (or Allah) never makes a mistake. The director demonstrates great sensitivity in conveying his characters’ different emotions, scrutinising their faces and their silences, all the while keeping them in an agonising huis clos where their home slowly turns into a prison. This sensation is enhanced by DoP Hatem Nechi’s cold and, at times, softened photography, creating the feel of a bad dream. Ultimately, the film shines a crucial light on a legal vacuum surrounding the rights of sexually ambiguous children which urgently needs to be filled, and which engages the viewer on a human and emotional level, even after the protagonists’ final decision is made.

L’Aiguille was produced by Shkoon Production.