Release Date – 13th February 2026, Cert – TBC, Run-time – 1 hour 45 minutes, Director – Hasan Hadi
90s Iraq, nine-year-old Lamia (Baneen Ahmad Nayyef) is tasked with making a cake for her school to celebrate Saddam Hussein’s birthday, or her family will face punishment. However, ingredients aren’t cheap, or easy to come by.
Saddam Hussein’s face looms over The President’s Cake. If not as a picture on a wall in every room of every building it’s as a mural spread across a wall. A reminder of the threat faced by nine-year-old Lamia (Baneen Ahmad Nayyef) if she fails to make a cake for her school to celebrate Saddam Hussein’s birthday. After her name has been pulled out of a hat the class are reminded of what happened to the kid who failed to bring one of the required gifts the year before – in monotone unison they say that he and his family were dragged to death.
The items to make the cake may be few but they’re also scarce, and expensive. Lamia lives with her grandmother (Waheed Thabet Khreibat) who already struggles to afford to feed the pair of them – leading to a particularly crushing set of circumstances which separates the pair of them part way through – as Lamia and schoolfriend Saeed (Sajad Mohamad Qasem) filter through the nearby markets to her home; a one-room hut floating in the middle of the river, fear grows and grows.
As the characters go from place to place it would be so easy for the events to become farcical. The base narrative – finding the ingredients to make a cake for Saddam Hussein’s birthday – sound as if they could come from a comedy, until the reminder that death is the consequence of failing to do so. But, while there are some occasionally funny moments which maintain the consistent movement of the drama The President’s Cake is a largely simple story that’s told with a good deal of emotion, largely because of what’s contextually playing out in the background. Particularly conveyed in a fantastic central child performance from Nayyef who gets right to the heart of a child aware of the tragedy around her, and that she could face. Facing disgruntled, unrelenting shopkeepers and risky heists, not to mention a missing chicken. Often holding on to the connection she has with her grandmother, and looking after her as much as she’s looked after.
Misfortune rears its head more and more, although the film is more emotionally gripping than bleak. Heartfelt questions met with silence have a particularly striking effect, we feel the tension and disappointment faced by Lamia throughout. We worry and fear for her. The way in which I found myself engaging with the film was quiet yet led to a powerful effect from what I was seeing. Again, much of which coming from the simple context in the events which seamlessly lead from one to the other, avoiding a chaptered feel.
Even in the closing stages the overriding feeling of The President’s Cake is one of emotional tension. Wonderfully created by the cast, particularly the lead, and writer-director Hasan Hadi who quietly and empathetically looks at the poverty and unease struck into struggling 90s Iraq. All with the overhanging threat of death and loss, which takes on different meanings in the separations of the film, while the president gets his cake.
Avoiding farce but still raising some laughs, The President’s Cake is a quietly engaging and emotionally striking film; holding worry, fear and tension throughout the simple yet impactful narrative. All brilliantly captured in the central child performance and reminders of the looming contextual threat.
Just A Little Bit Random 