Narrated in On the Couch in Tunis (available on DVD since November 5, 2020) Manele Labidi the story of Selma, a French woman of Tunisian descent who wants to open a practice for psychotherapy in Tunis. But this project soon turns out to be not that easy at all, as it not only meets with skepticism from the population, but also has to fight with authorities. We talked to the director and screenwriter about her debut feature film, the challenges she had to overcome herself and what moved her to the story.
Could you tell us a little about the background of your film? How and when did you get the idea for On the couch in Tunis came?
It was always clear to me that I really wanted to shoot my first feature film in Tunis. I’ve always been very fascinated by the country and the cinematic possibilities there, in terms of the locations, but also the people who live there. In addition, of course, I have my own biography: I was born in France, but grew up with both cultures and in Tunisia every year, which is why I had the strong need to shoot the film there too. After the revolution a few years ago, I also perceived a changed energy in the country, people behaved differently, spoke differently. You have had more open and in-depth conversations, for example about politics, but also life in general and their feelings. And I wanted to capture this very special moment, but not with the means of a documentary, but a feature film. At the same time, my own experiences should be recorded in it, because despite my background I still feel like a foreigner there.
How much of you is then in the main character Selma? Like you, she was born in France and then went to Tunisia to work there.
I think this is a dream that so many people in the western world have: to go to your parents’ country and experience something new and exciting there. Selma and I already knew that it wouldn’t be easy to pull it off like this. But we couldn’t help it, it was like a mission for us. No other project came into question for me until I finished this one. You may not be able to justify that rationally, but there are very many in my generation who look for meaning in this way. Who might want to prove something in an environment that they have only known from stories or holidays. I wanted to show this feeling of novelty. That’s why you see in On the couch in Tunis also nothing in France, no people who come from there. There is only Selma and her experiences.
But what were your own experiences with making the film? Selma is struggling with her practical project.
It wasn’t easy for me either, to be honest. We all got the permits without any problems, and there were no attempts to influence us in any way with the content. The difficulties lay more in getting used to a different work culture – especially since my team was half French and half Tunisian. First we had to find each other and I had to mediate between the two. In addition, the system in Tunisia is sometimes quite absurd. If you grew up there, then of course you know and are used to it. But as a French it’s tough at first. Another obstacle was the heat. This not only bothered the French crew, but also the camera, which could occasionally go out for no apparent reason. At the same time, I liked that. I need challenges to really develop.
The difficulties that Selma has in the film are due to the peculiarities of Tunisia or the way she deals with the situation?
I would say both. She is quite naive when she arrives and assumes that you have only been waiting for her because there has been no comparable practice so far. If she doesn’t bother to get a permit for her practice, that’s a sign that she’s looking down on the country and thinking she can do whatever she likes. It is a phenomenon that often occurs that people go to a foreign country and feel superior. Even if she has come with many ideals and wants to do good, it is also her own fault if she has such problems because she simply did not prepare sufficiently for the country and the local situation. Much in Tunisia cannot be explained rationally, but works on the emotional level. That can be very nice because without all these rules you feel freer. But it can also be frustrating when you need something very specific.
What about psychotherapy in Tunisia? Is that common there?
Yes, yes. Psychoanalysis is less common. Psychotherapy as such is booming, especially after the revolution, in order to process the experiences. As a result, there was a sharp rise in depression and anxiety because many things were no longer stable and there was a lack of security. Terrorist attacks broke out and the economic crisis became a threat. On the one hand, when the dictator disappeared, that was good news. On the other hand, he was something like the father of the country and when he was gone, Tunisia was like some kind of orphan. The freedoms that people have won and the rights are just one side of the coin. This uncertainty about how things will proceed in the future has itself led to a number of problems. And with it the need to talk about it.
How much does the fact that she is a woman play into Selma’s experiences and difficulties? Would it have made any difference if she had been a man?
The fact that she’s a woman makes it more difficult, of course. A woman who opens her own practice and wants to be independent, who is not looking for a man, who smokes in public on the street, that is nothing special in France or Germany, but it can be a political statement in another context. It would certainly have been easier for a man in their situation, as women who move in male domains always have to overcome obstacles. This is always the case, no matter what country we are in. At the same time, I didn’t want that to become the main reason or to make a statement about the role of women. On the couch in Tunis shouldn’t be a film about how a woman prevails against men. Nor is it explicitly mentioned in the film that their situation is gender-related.
How are your own experiences in this regard? Despite all the progress, the film industry is still such a male domain, with significantly more directors than female directors.
That’s true. Fortunately, I myself had less to contend with. Whether it was my producer or my crew, they’ve all been very supportive of me. Nobody has ever put obstacles in my way. But you still notice a difference when you introduce your film to the world and how the reactions to it are. It doesn’t necessarily have to be direct hostility. Sometimes it’s small details or expressions that make it clear that a lot still needs to be done. The tone can be a bit condescending towards women. And of course there are also big differences on the production side, it’s much easier for a man to make a big budget film than for a woman. Women still tend to make smaller, more intimate films.
Of course, this also has to do with the question of why someone makes films at all. How do you see your own role as a filmmaker? What do you want to achieve with your work?
I want to experiment as much as possible, also with regard to the genre, and not be tied to anything. I don’t just have to do tragic comedies like I do now with On the couch in Tunis. I would also like to do a pure drama or maybe something in the direction of horror. I also want to shoot in different places and in several languages. As I said earlier, I need this challenge.
And what is specifically planned in this regard? What are you working on?
I’m currently working on a story that this time takes place in France and is about politics and the media. The writing process is always the most exhausting part. At the same time, I don’t want to rush myself, but rather take the time I need with me. How much that will be in the end remains to be seen. I hope that maybe I can start shooting in a year like this.