Mild spoilers ahead.
It was pitched as “The Sopranos set in a mosque”, but now is touted as “Succession in a mosque”. House of Gods (بيت الأرباب) is an ABC TV show which captures the livelihoods of an Iraqi-Australian family tempted by power and influence after their father, Sheikh Muhammad Al Hammedi (Kamel El Basha), is elected Head Cleric at The Messenger mosque in Western Sydney.
The show was created by Osamah Sami and Shahin Shafaei, developed by Blake Ayshford, and has a writers room consisting of Sami, Ayshford, Shafaei and Sarah Bassiuoni. It is clear that the show is by Arabs, starring Arabs, but for everyone.
Isa (Osamah Sami) is the adopted son of Sheikh Muhammad, who has envisioned a more hands-on and reformed style of leadership. However, this does not escape scrutiny, especially by rival Sheikh Shaaker (played by the late Simon El Rahi) and those standing behind him.
Directed by Fadia Abboud, the six-episode series boasts an impressive cast and also features Antoniette Lattouf in her debut acting role as a radio host, where she exposes the inciting incident: a woman on the street kisses Sheikh Muhammad on the cheek, thereby setting a chain of events that will influence future interactions between mosque leaders, and that of the local Muslim community.
For many viewers, ‘the kiss’ may seem innocuous, but when you see it in context, it cannot be separated from the undercurrent of racism and ‘othering’ of those who express their beliefs in their appearance and behaviour. The religious and cultural norms dictating the interactions of men and women are portrayed to be understood by all, not just Arab or Muslim audiences. Sheikh Mohammad stands his ground, having known he has done nothing wrong, but is forced to play the long-term political game to ensure his position is safeguarded.
Isa — nicknamed the “fresh prince of Fairfield” — becomes preoccupied with the financial side of religion and expanding his pre-existing business. At one point, he is told that “it looks like we are running a bank, not a mosque.” His older sister, Batul (Maia Abbas), who has just come back from Iraq, has ambitions to be influential in the community, and occupy the position of Vice-President of the mosque. Their younger sister, Hind (Safia Arain), wants a path of her own, without jeopardising her family’s leadership roles or putting her own dreams on hold.
Jamileh (Priscilla Doueihy) is married but cannot exercise her agency because she believes that since she chose this path, she is not entitled to complain about it. While Batul does not fully elaborate on her experience, we know she is escaping marital problems with her husband in Iraq.
From the first two episodes alone, the series commits to its goal of holding a microscope to those who politicise religion, whether that be leaders or those on the periphery. Enforced secularism and pluralism are carefully interrogated, in light of
Australia being labelled and praised as a multicultural entity. One example that best encapsulates this is that people are more likely to “accept a kids-only area but not a women’s-only swim hour.”
The standout performer without a question is Palestinian actor Kamel El Basha, who previously won the Volpi Cup for Best Actor at the 2017 Venice Film Festival for his performance in the Oscar-nominated Lebanese film, The Insult. He brings a grounded quality to his role as a Sheikh and father. He is non-judgmental, patient, funny, kind and strong, all the qualities Arab men are stereotypically robbed of within storytelling — and sometimes, in real life.
As such, Uncle Samir’s (Majid Shokor) character arc is very intriguing, as he identifies as someone who practices no faith. Samir was in Saddam Hussein’s prison along with Sheikh Muhammad, and as a result, is haunted by the memories.
If you are also looking for comedy, House of Gods has plenty to offer. When one of the female characters said that her ex-boyfriend “Trevor tried to learn Arabic for me”, all women in the audience could not keep it together. Women of colour always do deflect with humour! It is minor quips like this which reinforce the power of representation, which is in the details and not just the overall picture.
Personally, I felt seen when I heard the line: “In some ways life was better there [Iraq], but in others it is here”. As an immigrant, born overseas, and growing up in an Arabic-speaking household, it often feels like two opposite worlds that refuse to intersect with one another. You become trained to notice the pros and cons of each place, especially when people ask you, “which country is better?”, “where do you prefer to live?” and “where do you want to live when you grow up?”. How do you reconcile both pieces of you? I don’t have an answer, and there may be no correct answer. We can still ponder this, and House of Gods is doing just that.
After the screening ended, Sara Mansour from the Bankstown Poetry Slam conducted a question and answer session with the cast and crew.
The timing of the show was inseparable from the genocide in Palestine, and war in Sudan, as it is “humanising Arabs when Arabs are being dehumanised.” The creators clarified that while the story is not necessarily about Palestine, it can help counteract this dehumanisation because context is not separate to art.
Sami also emphasised that “we’re not portraying sinning Muslims, we are portraying Muslims”, in response to the black-and-white incarnation we typically see: terrorists or pious worshippers.
The female cast members noted that “irrespective of religion, women who don’t toe the line have it harder” and through these characters, they were able to develop beyond what we might designate as limitations of culture.
When Sami labelled the Iraqi accent as the Irish accent of the Arab world, and said that Lebanese are the typical Arabs of Sydney, I knew I wanted to keep watching.
Throughout the episodes, Arabic is seamlessly integrated within the dialogue, and is not relegated to the usual “habibi”, “yalla”, “walla” and “aywa”. It was revealed that the use of Arabic allowed for the delineation of particular conversations and relationships; the brothers and community elders speak Arabic, whereas the children respond in English.
Most importantly, the show did not centre an outsider as the audience’s way into the community. Instead, it focused on casting Arab, Iraqi or Muslim actors to facilitate authenticity in the setting and character multidimensionality.
And so, when co-creator/writer/executive producer/actor — aka the Jamal of all trades — Sami urged the audience to promote the show via word-of-mouth, I heeded the call, not only because he asked for it, but because I believe you should tune in too.
House of Gods premieres on Sunday February 25 at 8.30pm on ABC TV, with episodes released weekly. Watch the trailer here and follow @osamah.sami on Instagram to remain updated.
