Life sometimes is a four-letter word. (More often than not.) The "enfant ensemble" in ALI ZAOUA couldn't be more perfectly cast (in view of the facts, in fact, better casting would be literally impossible). The nighttime musings of these kids as they drift off to sleep in the movie says it all: "When I'm dead, I'll be filthy rich." As mentioned elsewhere in these comments, I used to drive a cab. One night, I picked up a woman and three kids and took them from a very, very dangerous neighborhood to a slightly less lethal locale. The woman asked me to wait and left the kids in the cab with me as she ducked into a house. I waited (somewhat impatiently) and listened to the kids talking in the seat behind me. They spoke in awed whispers. "What does it look like?" "It's big- about this big." "What's it taste like?" "You'll see." I found myself grinding my teeth in anger. The woman emerged from the house and asked me if I could just wait a minute longer, that "he" was "on his way." I reluctantly agreed, but vowed that I would take my dispatcher to task for sending me on yet another drug run. The next thing I know, a pizza delivery driver pulls up. The woman rushes to him, pays him for two pizzas, and climbs back into the cab with them. I drive her back to her own neighborhood and ask her why she had the pizza delivered to another neighborhood. "Because the pizza guys won't deliver in our neighborhood." There are times, I swear, when it all gets to me. If you get a chance, see ALI ZAOUA and see what I mean.
Review of Ali Zaoua: Prince of the Streets
