You only need two things when watching Davis Guggenheim’s He Named Me Malala; a ready heart and a box of tissues. The ready heart will joyfully absorb the candid examination of Malala Yousufzai’s relationship with her wonderful family, while the box of tissues will come in handy every time the heart smiles. And believe me; the heart will smile often.

The moving interactions between Malala and her brothers are full of hilarious banter and priceless to observe. One brother, who she needles often, is introduced to viewers in a lovingly sarcastic voice that older sisters reserve for their younger brothers. Yes, the documentary’s most amusing revelation is how wickedly funny Malala is.

More surprising though, is how lonely the activist is, not having fully adapted to life in the United Kingdom, and missing both her home and her friends in Pakistan. Her international career has also, ironically enough, taken a toll on her studies, allowing her to earn C grades at school.

An intimate look at the complicated relationship between one of the world’s most famous young women and her father

There has been some criticism that He Named Me Malala doesn’t take political sides and fails to ask tough questions. The first complaint is thoroughly invalid since this isn’t a political film at all. No, it is an intimate look at the complicated relationship between one of the world’s most famous young women and her father.

As Guggenheim said, he was driven to make this documentary because he wished to inspire his own daughters. This is perhaps why the film features so many animated sequences, some of which are used to tell the legend of Afghani folk hero Malalai of Maiwand, after whom Malala was named. These slick animated scenes feature excellent production values, and are enjoyable to watch, though are used too often, perhaps because Guggenheim lacked enough interesting material from his subject’s own life.

While Malala’s father features regularly in the film, (even the title was named after him), her mother, disappointingly, has a smaller role to play. This, as the film-maker explained, was out of issues stemming from cultural sensitivity.

Although the apolitical stance of He Named Me Malala is understandable, the documentary’s failure to dig deeper into its subject’s psyche, is not. As we all know, after daring to resist, Malala was shot by the Taliban on the left side of her face, merely because she believed in her right to go to school. By some miracle she survived. The doctors who worked to save her felt she would have no more than 70 per cent function restored, yet by another miracle 90pc function returned.

While it certainly isn’t flawless, He Named Me Malala is an important film, especially since it is being released at a time in Europe, Canada, and America when anti-Muslim sentiment is at a fever pitch. For such viewers, an extraordinary Muslim family doing ordinary things is an excellent reminder of the humanity we all share.

In spite of her ordeal, the young Nobel Prize winner feels no ill will towards those who made her suffer, “Islam teaches us humanity … equality … forgiveness. It doesn’t matter for me if the left side of my face isn’t working. Or if I can’t blink this eye properly. It doesn’t matter for me if I can’t smile properly. It doesn’t matter if I am not hearing in this ear … I can’t hear.”

When Guggenheim asks Malala more questions about her suffering in an effort to understand what makes her tick, she respectfully refrains to answer. Of course, the director could have explored these themes with her father, or perhaps others close to her, but sadly, he fails to do so, hence robbing his film of some real insight.

While it certainly isn’t flawless, He Named Me Malala is an important film, especially since it is being released at a time in Europe, Canada, and America when anti-Muslim sentiment is at a fever pitch. For such viewers, an extraordinary Muslim family doing ordinary things is an excellent reminder of the humanity we all share.

Rated PG-13 for thematic elements involving disturbing images and threats

Published in Dawn, Sunday Magazine, December 13th, 2015