‘The Daughters of Abraham’ Review: Individualism and Community Test Each Other’s Limits in an Interfaith Friendship Drama
TIFF: Hanaël El Yousfi's feature debut follows the ongoing relationship between a Jewish woman and her Muslim friend, illustrating how the conflicting desires for independence and family connection are universal.
by Christian Zilko · IndieWireThe opening frames of “The Daughters of Abraham,” which depict a lively Marrakech nightclub with a party that never seems to end, are enticing enough to make even the biggest homebodies wonder if nightlife has its perks. Myriam (Melissa Guers) and Eva (Ava Baya) dance through the night, flirt with strangers, drink shots, and generally bask in the amber lighting and rhythmic music without a care in the world. (A few moments later, we’re subjected to some crass male behavior that reminds us why people have to keep their guard up in even the most carefree moments, but by then the ambiance has already been set.) The cinematography is immediately impressive, and the elegance of the sequence establishes one of the film‘s key tensions: to Myriam and Eva, partying feels like the most natural thing in the world, while navigating the manmade social rules of their everyday lives feels infinitely more difficult.
In a Western setting, that might be the setup for a film about arrested development and girls who refuse to grow up. But Hanaël El Yousfi’s feature debut is more interested in exploring the female frustrations that arise from traditional cultures that have modernized just enough to give women education and cultural experiences that develop their inner selves, but ultimately still limit their practical choices once they hit a certain age. At 25, Myriam and Eva’s lives are not that different from any other young European hedonists. But by 35, they might as well be living in a Jane Austen novel complete with mothers scheming to marry them off before they’re doomed to a life of spinsterhood.
That’s why “The Daughters of Abraham” is built around a time jump, following the two women as they reconnect at a wedding following five years of slowly drifting apart and rekindle their youthful friendship under very different circumstances. When we meet them in the film, both women are struggling to hold onto the last gasps of carefree youthful individualism before conforming to their families’ marital expectations.
Eva is Jewish and Myriam is Muslim, which isn’t a problem — everyone in their intertwined families constantly points out that it’s not a problem, which is always what you do when there’s no problem. It might have been a problem if Myriam had gone through with marrying Eva’s brother, who she’s still in love with despite breaking up years ago. But as long as everyone gets married within their family’s preferred social circle, everyone can keep being civil and pretending that they don’t secretly hate each other’s faiths.
A film about a Jew’s friendship with a Muslim despite tensions between their families is destined to be pigeonholed as “topical” due to the geopolitical tensions of our times. But “The Daughters of Abraham” is more interested in subtle social disputes, with many of the initial interfaith clashes arising from minor grievances like skipping a bachelor party that falls on a High Holy Day. El Yousfi proves to be an excellent chronicler of petty cultural differences and the resentments that we paper over with obligatory words about religious tolerance.
“The Daughters of Abraham” is a brilliant title for such a film, alluding to the religious DNA that Judaism and Islam share. As the film takes a tragic turn in the third act, El Yousfi reveals that the superficial differences between the two religions pale in comparison to the similarities — namely, the conservative social values practiced by traditional communities in both faiths. In its strongest moments, the film illustrates how the often contradictory desires for individual liberation and family connection are universal experiences. We all want to be free to express our purest selves, and we all want a strong community to fall back on when times get tough. One of the tragedies of life is that taking more of one often means giving up some of the other, and Yousfi treats her characters with enough nuance to show just how hard those choices are to make in real time.
“The Daughters of Abraham” is not a perfect film. The amount of side characters and interfamily dramas feels too big for its 93-minute runtime, leaving some storylines feeling unfinished while still taking time away from others that deserved more focus. But it makes up for much of that with the specificity of its two female leads. Both actresses embody their characters with rich internal lives, often using silent body language and facial expressions to illustrate the middle ground between the modern society that inevitably shapes them and the family dynamics that punish anyone who adapts to the current world. That level of sensitive human observation is always a welcome addition to the film world, and we should all be excited to see what El Yousfi does next.
Grade: B
“The Daughters of Abraham” premiered at the 2026 Toronto International Film Festival. It is currently seeking U.S. distribution.