Bilal El Kadhi: Pain, leasure and yearning from Tunisia’s shores

Tunisian-French artist Bilal El Kadhi knows how to strike a riveting balance between beauty and hardship. A self-taught photographer and filmmaker, he has become a lens through which the layered feelings of living in Tunisia are refracted. His work invites viewers into a liminal world where youthful joy and freedom exist in a delicate and looming tension with harsh realities. Born and raised in Paris, Bilal’s deep love for Tunisia is exhibited in every one of his films, and his art is a visceral ode to the land of his ancestors – capturing its arresting beauty with a clarity that only someone familiar with its fractures could manifest.

El Kadhi’s first short films are Life of Isaaq (2019) and Yonder(2022); both were filmed on the island of Djerba in southeastern Tunisia. A Mediterranean locale known for its stunning beaches and uniform white architecture, the island is also laden with a subdued reality: economic struggles, conservative traditions, and a turbulent history with migration. Bilal’s eyes ensure that the film doesn’t shy away from this duality. His work evokes a nostalgic vision of Tunisian youth – barefoot children running through salt flats, teenagers beaming from rooftops, friends dancing in the summer sun. But these tender moments are shrouded with the imminent risk of displacement and the stark choices faced by those desperate for a better life across the sea.

At first glance, the imagery in Life of Isaaq is purely celebratory; a love letter to Tunisia. The natural beauty of Djerba is omnipresent in the background of every shot; the film feeds the eyes everywhere you look. But under this façade lies Bilal’s commentary on the pressures that drive young Tunisians to flee. The protagonist, Isaaq, portrayed by Bilal’s childhood friend Nizar, lounges in his bed, chain-smoking, counting money – presumably to save for a prospective migration. This is our protagonist, Isaaq, cast in his delicate iteration of Tunisian masculinity. 

Though not explicitly explored in the film, Nizar’s story adds a layer of meaning to Life of Isaaq. In real life, the actor made several attempts to cross the Mediterranean in search of a better life, but on his fourth attempt a tragic motorcycle accident struck on his way to the boat, ending his life before he could even board. The bitter irony of Nizar’s fate speaks to the cruel unpredictability hinging over so many lives in Tunisia. It’s these small, intimate stories that Bilal masterfully embeds within his work – snapshots of lives teetering between hope and despair, seen through a compassionate but relentless lens. 

In Bilal’s film Yonder, the weight of this social commentary becomes even more direct. The film is set in the context of economic stagnation, where the yearning for freedom is mounting with immediacy. In one striking scene, a young man drenches himself in gasoline, posed to strike a lighter. The imagery is rife with meaning, mirroring the story of Mohamed Bouazizi, the street vendor whose self-immolation in 2010 ignited the Tunisian Revolution and subsequently, the Arab Spring. With this moment, Bilal cuts a deep line between personal despair and broader socio-political forces that continue to affect the region. The film is a haunting meditation on the impact of state-sponsored violence, the will for migration and the generational trauma that continues to shape Tunisia today.

Even in his most beautiful, light-filled frames, Bilal leaves room for the quiet ache of Tunisia’s disillusioned youth. The music in both films – composed by Bilal’s long-time collaborator Brit Myers – a sense of universality to each scene. While the visuals are undeniably Tunisian, the music intentionally avoids traditional motifs, opting instead for a more ambient, reflective sound. This deliberate choice frees the films from the constraints of cultural cliche, allowing them to reverberate with whoever is watching. It’s a reminder that while Tunisia’s struggles are specific, they’re only part of a much wider experience of youth in limbo – caught between the hope for freedom and the chains of circumstance by seemingly untouchable forces.

Bilal’s particular strength is navigating the line between documentary realism and poetic abstraction. His work never dips toes into the territory of exoticism or superficial romanticisation. Rather, it offers an invitation to consider Tunisia in all its shades – a place luminous with light, but also steeped in loss and longing. In the final moments of Yonder, a young Black boy stands at the sea, watching a boat burn in the horizon. The image is stomach-sinking, representing both Tunisia’s struggles with migration but also the darker realities of racism and systemic oppression that impact both Tunisians and the many African migrants stuck in the country, waiting for their opportunity to leave. 

These films, haunted with penetrative beauty, are urgent reflections on the state of the filmmaker’s homeland. They stand for a new generation of work produced by creatives in the MENA region, one that uses art to create honest and intimate portrayals of life in the region. For Bilal, the focus on Tunisia is personal, and his work serves as both a mirror and magnifying glass; it reveals the tender truths of a place and its people while demanding confrontation of the larger forces at play. Bilal’s gift in entangling beauty, pain and social commentary in a singular vision makes him a standout talent. Every frame, agonising in its precision and sublimity, reminds us of art’s true power to reflect the world as it is and conjure the ones we aspire to forge.