The President’s Cake: LFF Film Review

Hasan Hadi’s very assured debut The President’s Cake provides a look at Saddam Hussein’s dictatorship through an Iraqi child’s view.

It is considered a great honour – but for Lamia, it is a burdensome one. She and her guardian Bibi (Waheed Thabet Khreibat) are already struggling, with Bibi recently dismissed from working in the fields. That’s without mentioning the food shortages caused by international sanctions, which will make it hard to find the eggs, flour, sugar and baking powder required.

At the same time, though, the consequences will be dire if Lamia fails. The last family that didn’t comply were dragged through the streets. So, armed with a shopping list, valuables and pet rooster Hindi, Lamia and Bibi venture from their home in the Mesopotamian marshes to the city of Baghdad. However, it soon becomes clear to Lamia that the ailing Bibi is planning to give her away. So she runs off to continue her ingredient quest with friend Saeed (Sajad Mohamad Qasem), who has to gather fresh fruit for the birthday celebrations. Meanwhile, Bibi tries to find Lamia but encounters indifference from the police.

The Camera d’Or winner at this year’s Cannes (plus the Audience Award at Director’s Fortnight), The President’s Cake (Mamlaket al-qasab) was inspired by the childhood of its writer-director Hasan Hadi. He also takes cues from Iranian cinema, from the works of Abbas Kiarostami to Jafar Panahi’s own Camera d’Or winner The White Balloon (especially the latter with its young protagonist), whilst adding its own neorealist touches. It leads to a very assured debut from Hadi that provides a look at a dictatorship through a child’s point of view.

At this point, Hussein’s picture is everywhere. Allegiances to the autocratic ruler are pledged regularly in the classroom and on the streets. Simultaneously, we see news reports of people struggling with high food prices. American fighter jets are constantly roaring overhead. And Lamia’s journey will expose the fear that the dictatorship has cultivated, as well as the realities of Hussein’s reign for those on the poverty line. It is less a loss of innocence and more a widening of her perspective, indicated by the use of wide angles from DP Tudor Vladimir Panduru (more on him in a bit).

At the centre of this is a remarkable performance from newcomer Nayyef, who manages to be expressive, earnest and deeply sympathetic as Lamia. Unlike Qasem’s more hardened Saeed (a pickpocket who has to search for his wounded beggar father during the film), she refuses to steal at first. However, that moral compass will be tested, maybe even abandoned, as she becomes desperate to find the ingredients for this cake. The two kids will bicker, but they will also engage in moments of childish innocence, such as staring contests.

A big reason why this child’s-eye view of ‘90s Iraq works so well is Panduru, who previously worked on Cristian Mungiu’s R.M.N. Shooting on film, Panduru manages to capture the unique textures and the essence of the period. Environments are richly realised, whether they are the wetlands where Lamia and Bibi live (which they have to navigate by canoe) or the streets and bazaars of the city. Crucially, as if to tackle the sand-tinged stereotype thrust onto the Middle East and Iraq by cinema over the years, The President’s Cake is full of colour. Cool blues and grassy greens. There is also natural lighting, meaning bursts of sunlight through during the day and lantern-lit wetlands at night. And the almost overwhelming cacophony of sounds is accompanied by a soundtrack predominantly featuring the strings of the traditional oud.

Though it perhaps runs a bit too long near the end, repeating some of the points it has to make, The President’s Cake is a terrific and understated film that turns into a portrait of the spectrum of humanity and hardship. During their trip, Lamia and Saeed come across all sorts of vendors, police officers, wounded soldiers, con men and more. Some, like a mailman (played by Rahim AlHaj), are kind and helpful. Most expose the cruelty and harshness of people as they rob and take advantage of the children. One encounter is downright predatory. All the while, the spectre of Hussein’s rule follows them.

It is Hadi’s focus on the connections between Lamia and the world around her that define The President’s Cake, and he pulls it off poetically, particularly with the ending. On one side, fear and terror as the innocence of youth is once again disrupted. On the other, decadence as we see archive footage of Hussein celebrating his birthday. It is authoritarianism at its most blatant and harmful, a stirring contrast that shows how confident Hadi’s filmmaking already is.

The President’s Cake will be screened at the BFI London Film Festival on 13-14 October, 2025.