AlRawabi School for Girls: A Glossy High-School Drama Hides Darker Undertones in Netflix’s Latest Arabic Original
Content Warning: sexual assault, mental health, bullying, murder
Image Credit: Netflix
Warning: this review contains significant spoilers!
It’s fair to say that the world has had its fill of iconic high school dramas over the past few decades. 2004 graced us with Mean Girls, and, more recently, Netflix’s Spanish original series Elite garnered worldwide success with its tales of love and deceit from the swanky corridors of ‘Las Encinas’. Global audiences seem to have a voracious appetite for the world of petty teenage drama, and at first glance AlRawabi School for Girls may seem no different - but think again. Yes, the plot predictably revolves around a group of edgy misfits who plan to take down the popular girls and their reigning matriarch. Yet with each episode the series strays into more sincere territory, as it tackles themes considered controversial in Jordanian society and beyond.
AlRawabi is Netflix’s seventh Arabic language original, brought to life by Shirin Kamal and Tima Shomali. The story begins when, after a violent incident at the hands of bully ringleader Layan and her cronies Ruqayya and Rania, Mariam decides that enough is enough. With the help of her ditsy best friend Dina and mysterious new girl Noaf, the three outsiders plot the clique’s downfall, but how far will they go for revenge?
Initially, the series is an easy watch. There is an abundance of clichés, from a yellow school bus, to a pinboard with red string linking photos and evidence as the clique’s downfall is orchestrated, and even pages of Mariam’s diary being photocopied and scattered around corridors à la Regina George and the Burn Book. Dialogue in Jordanian Arabic is occasionally infused with English phrases that anyone would expect to spring from an American flick, with at least one declaration of “hashtag relationship goals”.
As cringeworthy as some may find these elements, the predictability of characterisation, set and costume makes for a classic comfort watch. We immediately feel at ease watching the girls swan around in pink school uniforms, evading nosey teachers and giggling about boys. We instantly sympathise with main-character-syndrome Mariam, laugh at Dina and despise antagonist Layan.
What could have easily remained in the realm of lighthearted high school series instead becomes increasingly suspenseful, as the consequences of the misfits’ schemes become more serious than they could have imagined. Mariam starts to become the bully she once despised, unable to control her thirst for revenge. The audience’s allegiances are subtly subverted as, like Dina and Noaf, they begin to sympathise with Layan and the clique. Ruqqaya is forced to leave the school, Rania suffers the physical abuse of her father, and, shockingly, the series culminates in the implied murder of Layan at the hands of her brother. In the blink of an eye, the series crumbles into tragedy.
The series has sparked dialogue in Jordan and beyond, not only due to the finale’s shock ending, but because of its spotlighting of controversial topics and themes that are not often portrayed in Arab media. Scenes showing Mariam attending psychotherapy sessions and taking anxiety medication may not surprise some audiences, but mental health remains a deeply taboo subject across parts of the Arab world and is rarely addressed by the media industry.
In an interview with Arab News, director and writer Shomali expressed the intricacies of the lives of young girls is a topic not yet explored in depth by Arab media. Not only does AlRawabi highlight these experiences, but it does so by straying from the traditional male gaze.
Television interview with writer and director Tima Shomali and actress Rakeen Saad, who plays Noaf.
Shomali explains: “Usually, female characters are portrayed from the perspective of how a man sees these women. The difference in this show is that it’s written by a woman, from the eyes of a woman, telling stories of young women.”
Through these very stories, the struggles of womanhood in Jordanian society become clear. Despite the clique’s downfall being caused by Mariam’s scheming in a literal sense, it is also due to Ruqqaya, Rania and Layan defying the societal rules and expectations dictating how women should behave. Clothing, female bodies and family honour tie these downfalls together. The leaked selfie of Ruqayya without her hijab lead her to leave the school indefinitely, facing the rage of her mother who claims she has brought shame upon the family. After being discovered at the party dancing with her boyfriend in revealing clothes, Rania appears at school with bruises, after presumably facing the wrath of her father. In the finale, a shot of Layan’s school uniform drying in the wind at her boyfriend’s house accompanies the sound of a gunshot. In the eyes of her brother, Layan’s irreparable damage to the family honour warrants her assasination. By ending the series on this impactful note, Kamal and Shomali highlight the devastating impact of honour killings, which still occur frequently across parts of the Arab world and beyond including Jordan, where there were at least 17 recorded instances of women being killed under the pretext of honour in 2020.
This narrative is imbued with moments of tenderness and hope in the face of these expectations. Despite being sworn enemies, Layan saves Noaf from an attempted sexual assault on the school trip, but not before we are painfully reminded that even those who are supposed to protect us can shame us, as teacher Miss Abeer blames the incident on Noaf’s revealing swimsuit.
These bold depictions of women’s struggles have stirred controversy, with local news outlets criticising the show for “distorting the image of the Jordanian girl”, and offending national traditions and principles. Yet according to Shomali, the emergence of this dialogue around such themes only reflects the series’ success.
No matter the overall consensus, and despite its shiny and superficial appearance, AlRawabi School for Girls has clearly cut deep. Questioning social conventions and pushing the boundaries of Arab media, the series strikes a delicate balance between being light teen drama and profound exploration of contemporary taboos.
If you have been affected by any of the themes discussed in this article, click here for resources on bulling, sexual assault and mental health.
