Overview
In the searing family drama MALAK – My Law Is Family, a young German‑Muslim household in Hannover is ruled by patriarch Baba, who wields faith as a weapon to justify his violence and authority. When a gunshot claims his son Malak’s life, siblings Zahra and Kazim are torn apart by shame and rage. Two decades later—in vivid color—they confront their aging father, caught between the broken verses of the Koran and a longing for inner peace. A poignant tale of dogma, betrayal, and the fragile path to reconciliation.| Verleih / Vertrieb: | Busch Media Group GmbH & Co. KG |
| Regie: | Timo Hinkelmann |
Stills
Subsumption
In the first act, the film’s uncompromising black‑and‑white palette functions like documentary photography, underlining how strict religious interpretation is wielded as an instrument of power rather than a source of faith. The stark contrasts heighten the claustrophobic tension of Baba’s household, making his manipulation of scripture feel both visceral and oppressive—yet the critique is aimed at his misuse of religion, not at Islam itself. Every frame reinforces the theme that dogma, when twisted, can become an engine of familial violence.
When the narrative shifts to color, we enter the adult world of Kazim and Zahra. Warm, natural hues replace the monochrome rigidity, signaling a departure from ideological constraint toward lived experience. Fluid camera movements and measured close‑ups draw us into the siblings’ inner turmoil: Can religion be reclaimed as a source of strength after it has been used as a weapon? Light and composition mirror their fragile reconciliation with belief, suggesting that faith, when freed from coercion, can still offer hope.
MALAK stands as a compelling entry in contemporary social cinema, blending authentic performances with deliberate visual design. Its two‑part structure—childhood trauma vs. adult reckoning—provides narrative clarity while emphasizing its core inquiry: not an indictment of Islam, but an examination of how religious interpretation can be abused to control and wound one’s own family—and how forgiveness might yet emerge from that breach.