This young girl has inspired millions.
From her tragedy has come incredible achievements.
The film is done in a way that works really well. Artistic animated images fill the parts that were no longer possible to film.
There is not a person who cannot learn something from her.
She is highly intelligent,insightful and intuitive.
I was very impressed with her and her father. She is an excellent role model for young people, and older ones too!
Education is indeed the key to everything!
She is a young girl who became a celebrity by accident, not by desire.
You can watch it here.
This Review by Jake Wilson from The SydneyMorning Herald
The word "inspirational" gets
bandied around a lot, but it can safely be applied to Malala Yousafzai, the
young Pashtun activist from north-west Pakistan who was shot in the head by the
Taliban and survived. Now living with her family in Birmingham, she won the
Nobel Peace Prize last year and continues to champion the cause of female
education in the Muslim world and elsewhere.
Since her arrival in Britain, Malala has
been courted by Western politicians of all stripes, even if her views on US
foreign policy – drone strikes in particular – don't entirely line up with
those of the White House. At the age of 18, she's also a fully fledged
celebrity who has appeared on the cover of Time, enjoyed a
well-publicised chat with Justin Bieber, and recently turned up on the Late
Show demonstrating card tricks to Stephen Colbert.
The fullest account of Malala's career to date appears in her 2013 autobiography I Am Malala, co-written by the British foreign correspondent Christina Lamb. This documentary by the American director Davis Guggenheim – best-known for the environmentalist polemic An Inconvenient Truth – goes over much of the same ground, without supplying the same amount of detail. It does, however, succeed in conveying the lively personality of its subject, an extremely likeable young woman with a big lopsided smile, an easy laugh and a challenging look in her eyes: in short, anything but a goody-two-shoes figurehead.
Some of Guggenheim's footage seems meant
to show that Malala at heart remains an ordinary teenage girl: we see her
squabbling with her brothers, watching cartoons on her laptop, and giggling as
she's teased about her celebrity crushes (who include Roger Federer and Brad
Pitt). But none of this quite rings true, any more than we can believe the
Pakistani critics who claim Malala is merely parroting the views of her father
and role model, Ziauddin, a former schoolteacher who now works as an
adviser to the UN. It's hard to imagine that Malala was ever
"ordinary" in any sense, even if other girls might have spoken out as
boldly with a Ziauddin to encourage them.
The truth seems to be that Malala is
both a genuinely remarkable individual and a symbol of collective feelings much
bigger than herself; arguably this could be said about most celebrities, but
the contrasts of scale in Malala's case are a little more dramatic. Without
taking anything away from her achievements, there's something absurd in the
notion of any teenager winning a Nobel Prize – or failing to win and then
struggling to conceal disappointment.
Considered strictly as filmmaking, He
Named Me Malala is no more distinguished than the rest of Guggenheim's
work. The narrative moves back and forth between Malala's present-day life and
her childhood in Pakistan. Interludes of kitschy animation, created
digitally with a simulated watercolour look, make the earlier
period resemble a gradually darkening fairytale. The shooting and its aftermath
are saved for the climax, which tastelessly uses shadowy, out-of-focus
photography to simulate Malala's perspective as she hovers on the brink of
death.
As the title He Named Me Malala
suggests, this isn't only a film about Malala: her parents are equally
intriguing, and in some ways more puzzling. Ziauddin is ready to burst with
pride in his daughter, yet feels understandable guilt over the consequences of
her following in his footsteps; still, this hasn't deterred him from supporting
her desire to speak out. Malala's mother, Toor Pekai, is a more conservative,
recessive figure, but her near-invisibility makes a statement in itself. She
seems reluctant to be photographed at all, leaving you wondering what she
thinks about Malala's very different path.
Plainly, Malala is her father's daughter,
but she has also inherited some of her mother's reserve. "You don't like
to talk about your suffering," Guggenheim says, and suddenly she
loses her usual chattiness, uneasily rubbing her chin and agreeing she doesn't
have much to say. If Guggenheim is aiming for a scene of tearful catharsis
here, he doesn't get it. While Malala bears a deceptive resemblance to a
typical 21st-century celebrity, she and her family remain part of a culture far
removed from the confessional ethos of reality TV. Perhaps this in itself is
one of the secrets of her charm.
See also
Malala Yousafzai Quotes: Heartwarming,Thoughtful and Inspirational!
Related: Jonathan Yeo:Try Bonding With Baby After A Facelift
The Nobel Prizes In Numbers
