By Andrea Thompson
Nijla Mumin’s 2018 film “Jinn” is a rarity. It doesn’t just center women of color, nearly all of them are also Muslim women who wear hijabs. It’s a tough subject to even make a film about in an industry that is supposedly committed to diversity, but it’s especially difficult to do it justice as Mumin does. “Jinn” doesn’t merely preach the beauty of Islam and being yourself in a world that is likely to attack you for it, it grapples with the ramifications of faith, freedom, and identity.
In can be difficult for adults to fight their way through such complex intersections, so the carefree, teenage Summer (Zoe Renee) suddenly has far more on her plate than college applications when her mother Jade (Simone Missick) suddenly converts to Islam and becomes someone Summer doesn’t recognize.
When Jade starts to bring Summer to the mosque, things get even more complicated. Jade is all aglow in the zeal of a convert, a godly light that Summer envies but feels too far away from to share in, even when she eventually decides to go along. So she converts, starts wearing the hijab, and refuses to let anyone talk down to her about her decision. But Summer also chafes at the restrictions her mother and her newfound community place on her. It’s the classic dilemma - all the comforts and trappings of faith can suddenly become chains when faced with the simple reality of being a human in a very messy world.
Islam does provide Summer with a new way of defining her struggles though, and she becomes more and more fascinated by stories of spirits called jinn. Neither of god nor hell, they can motivate humans to do good or evil. The turbulence inherent in the concept fits Summer’s own worldview, as she becomes increasingly aware of the limitations on her, especially as her attraction to her classmate Tahir (Kelvin Harrison Jr.), who also attends the same mosque, grows.
One of the great ironies is that there’s nothing like repression to make a love story progress, so when Summer and Tahir lock eyes during the Imam’s (Hisham Tawfiq) preaching, it’s in a way that speaks of far more worldly attractions, likely made more delicious by the knowledge that those around them would condemn them for it.
But even as “Jinn” refuses to deny the darker side of Islam and how women are often shamed far more for not living up to expectations, Mumin also gives the mosque a warmth and a glow seldom seen in film. It embraces the comfort such an environment can provide, and none of the women who bask in it are victims. They are fully in control of their own decisions, even Jade, whose fanaticism begins to drive a wedge between her and her daughter.
The conclusion is about as messy as people generally are, with freedom being the ultimate goal for mother and daughter. That freedom may look different to both of them, but it is ultimately the ultimate prize with all that beautiful messiness inherent to them and others.
Jinn is streaming on Amazon Prime, YouTube, Apple TV, and Vudu.
