Hala Christian Review
Sometimes, a film sneaks up on you—not with a roar, but with a whisper. Hala is one of those films. Directed by Minhal Baig, it’s a coming-of-age story that invites you to sit quietly, lean in, and observe the delicate balance of a teenage girl’s life unraveling and coming together. It doesn’t demand attention with loud proclamations or sweeping dramatic gestures. Instead, it asks you to notice the little things: the quiet struggles, the pauses between words, the moments where identity is questioned and faith is stretched thin.
For a Christian audience, Hala might not feel overtly spiritual, yet it offers a space to reflect on themes of authenticity, compassion, and grace. This isn’t a movie that spells out its intentions with bold strokes; rather, it nudges you to think, to empathize, and maybe even to pray for clarity in your own life.
A Teenager Caught in the Middle
Hala, played with a tender subtlety by Geraldine Viswanathan, is a Muslim-American high school student trying to navigate two worlds: the traditional expectations of her Pakistani family and the freer, often messier, world of her peers. The tug-of-war is familiar. Anyone who has wrestled with cultural or familial expectations will find echoes of their own struggles in Hala’s life.
She’s smart, witty, and, well, just a little lost—a reminder that growing up is universal, no matter what faith or culture you belong to. As Christians, we talk about identity a lot. Who are we in Christ? How do we live authentically while honoring the roles we’ve been given in family, community, and society? Watching Hala, you can’t help but feel the weight of those questions, even if they’re not explicitly asked.
Faith as Backdrop
One of the most intriguing—and perhaps challenging—elements of Hala is how it portrays faith. For Hala, her Muslim upbringing is less of a daily, active presence and more of a looming backdrop. It shapes her world, sure, but it doesn’t dominate her story. This might be frustrating for viewers hoping to see a deeper dive into her spiritual struggles or a clearer exploration of her relationship with God.
From a Christian perspective, this might feel like a missed opportunity. After all, faith—whether Muslim, Christian, or otherwise—is often a profound part of navigating identity. But here’s the thing: Hala’s journey reflects a reality that many teens face. Faith isn’t always a loud, guiding voice in the chaos of adolescence. Sometimes, it’s a quiet hum in the background, waiting to be rediscovered.
As Christians, we’re reminded that God often works in the margins of our lives, not just in the spotlight. Hala’s faith might not be front and center, but it’s there, woven into her story, shaping her choices in ways she might not even realize.
The Power of Quiet Storytelling
This isn’t a film that’s going to sweep you off your feet with grand gestures. It’s a quieter kind of power, one that’s easy to miss if you’re not paying attention. The cinematography mirrors this approach—soft, almost meditative. Hala’s world feels lived-in, from the modest confines of her family home to the open spaces of her skateboarding escapes.
For Christians used to more overtly inspirational films, this subtlety might be disorienting. But there’s something deeply refreshing about a story that trusts its audience to sit in the silence and draw their own conclusions. It’s in those quiet moments that we often hear God most clearly, after all.
Where the Film Stumbles
That’s not to say Hala is perfect. Far from it. The first half of the film feels rich and layered, drawing you into Hala’s world with care and precision. But somewhere along the way, the narrative loses its footing. The second half feels rushed, almost like the film is trying to cram too much into too little time.
For a story that begins with such gentle pacing, this shift is jarring. Important moments feel underdeveloped, and some of the emotional weight is lost in the process. It’s a bit like watching a beautiful symphony cut off mid-performance—still lovely, but incomplete.
For a Christian audience, this abruptness might feel particularly frustrating. When you’re invested in a character’s journey, you want to see it through to the end, to understand the lessons they’ve learned and the growth they’ve experienced.
A Lesson in Compassion
What Hala does best, though, is remind us of the importance of compassion. Hala’s struggles—her attempts to reconcile her desires with her family’s expectations, her missteps, and her moments of clarity—are deeply human. It’s impossible to watch her story without feeling a tug at your heart, a reminder to extend grace to the young people in your life who are finding their way.
As Christians, we’re called to love others as Christ loves us, with patience and understanding. Hala offers a glimpse into the inner world of a teenager who’s trying her best, even when she stumbles. It’s a call to listen more, to judge less, and to remember that growth is rarely a straight line.
Finding God in the Ordinary
There’s a quiet beauty in how Hala finds the extraordinary in the ordinary. The film doesn’t rely on big, dramatic moments to tell its story. Instead, it lingers in the small, everyday beats of life: a glance between mother and daughter, the freedom of a skateboard ride, the weight of a secret kept too long.
For a Christian audience, this approach is a gentle reminder of how God works in the details. It’s easy to look for Him in the grand gestures—in miracles, in life-changing moments—but often, He’s most present in the quiet, ordinary rhythms of our lives.
A Final Word
So, is Hala worth watching? Absolutely. It’s not a film that will give you all the answers, but it’s one that will leave you thinking. It’s a story about finding your voice, about the tension between tradition and individuality, and about the grace we all need to navigate life’s complexities.
For Christians, it’s an opportunity to reflect on your own journey—how you’ve reconciled faith and identity, how you’ve extended compassion to others, and how you’ve listened for God in the stillness. It’s not a perfect film, but it’s a meaningful one.
Rating: 7.5/10.
