It’s a shame the documentary Voices from El-Sayed isn’t as interesting as its premise.
El-Sayed, a dusty Bedouin village in the Israeli desert, is home to the world’s largest community of deaf people. A genetic defect is responsible, and its seemingly random occurrence within families is accepted and expected; most seem to be a happy, functional mix of deaf and hearing children and adults. The community has its own complex system of sign-language, and deaf and hearing are encouraged to intermarry. Because deaf people are fully integrated into life in El-Sayed—as they should be everywhere—they don’t feel they are dealing with a burden. In fact, we meet numerous deaf people who say they feel bad for those who can hear because they are constantly surrounded by chatter. One little girl in the movie sweetly says that she, like many others, prefers to be deaf, and that if God could give her the ability to hear, she wouldn’t want it.
Although God does not give anyone the ability to hear in the movie, the Israeli government unexpectedly does. For an unknown reason, the government—who historically treats Bedouin settlements very poorly—offers free cochlear implants to all deaf children. The offer is received with skepticism. Deaf adults scoff at the idea that hearing is important or beneficial, and others, having heard horror stories about complications arising from the operation, are concerned with how well the device actually works.
One family decides to go through with the operation for their two-year old son Muhammad, who is the only deaf member of his family. His experience is physically and emotionally painful, and although the procedure is free, it is not easy. The repeated trips to the hospital are long and frustrating, and the implant’s success is hampered by the fact that the village does not have twenty-four hour electricity, which the device requires. When the device malfunctions, and when Muhammad does not begin speaking when he should, his father second-guesses his decision. The film takes a neutral stance on the parents’ decision, but it’s impossible not to root for them once it’s been made, particularly during the boisterous scenes where Muhammad’s siblings try to teach him to speak.
While some people in the community think the operation was pointless at best, and tragic at worst, it’s never a surprise when a family wants their son to be as prepared for success as possible. The ability to hear is never glamorized, but the advantages that one assumes comes with it are hard to ignore, particularly in the case of young Ruwayda, an aspiring filmmaker. While her professional dreams don’t yet extend beyond the village, it’s impossible not to wonder how difficult her path would be if she left. The outside world might not be so hospitable. In addition to facing intense prejudice about her religion and ethnicity, she’d be confronting mainstream society’s inability to deal with people who are differently-able.
This is, of course, very interesting stuff, but the movie does not have the impact you expect or want. Its greatest weakness is its scope, which is too tight as opposed to too broad, the typical problem of many documentaries. The introduction of new technology that could permanently change life in El-Sayed feels enormous and fraught, and the place itself is so interesting that you want to know and see more. But for whatever reason—access, mistrust, shyness on the part of the subjects—the filmmakers follow only a few people on both sides of the conflict. While humbleness can be a great strength in a documentary, in the case of Voices from El-Sayed, it leaves you with questions, and with the feeling that there isn’t much of a controversy at all. It would have been nice to have more perspectives in the film, to see how it was playing out on a larger scale. Without this, the film commands only a passing interest, despite its naturally intriguing story and some impressive sound and camera work. Sadly, when added up, the movie’s fractured strengths still don’t make it the movie it could have been, and you leave feeling like you missed something.