Prophet boosting: The Muhammad films taking on interest in Islam

Phil Hoad

Two big-budget biopics of the prophet in production – difficulties around presenting his image notwithstanding – have genuine blockbuster potential, and could promote cultural dialogue.

"Be a bridge!" Those are the Turkish teacher's last words to the Bosnian boy he's just pulled out of a surging torrent, before he dives back into the river to reach a second pupil. Seconds earlier, the two teenagers had been locked together – Muslim v Orthodox Christian, a knife hovering between them. But the teacher, doggy-paddling against the current, knows that religion makes no difference when lives are at stake. There's a message from on high (and we're not talking Allah) about the dangers of division between men: overhead is Sarajevo's Latin Bridge, where Archduke Franz Ferdinand received his fateful 1914 gunshot.

Turkish religious hit Selam certainly doesn't shy away from the grand gesture. That's the climax to one of its three stories, which all focus on the altruistic deeds of pious teachers in different countries; in the other two segments, two lovers find themselves a world apart in Senegal and Afghanistan. The first Turkish work to be shot on three different continents, it was No 1 in that country for five weeks through April, taking nearly $8m so far.

But don't mistake Selam for a mere local concern. It may come in a Turkish flavour, but didactic and cheesy though it is, it's also internationalist in scope, a kind of Muslim Babel aiming outwards at the world. It has a proselytising zeal, dramatising missionary work and partaking itself by making a case for Islamic values in life. The Gülen movement – the progressive, possibly political, network that some people now rate as the most influential Muslim faith organisation worldwide – provided locations and casting support. And Selam is one of several projects currently aiming to make a piercing statement on behalf of Islam with cinemal, a medium – because of the nature of image-making – with which this religious tradition arguably has compatibility issues.

There are two big-budget biopics of Muhammad – one Shia, one Sunni – in the works, in addition to one other that seems to have fallen by the wayside. That qualifies as a glut, since the last similar live-action project was 1976's The Message, from director Moustapha Akkad – a major difficulty for the aspiring chronicler being the prohibition on depicting the prophet. Iranian director Majid Majidi, whose $30m biopic began filming in October, recently pointed out: "While there are 250 films on Jesus Christ, 120 films on Moses, 80 about the other prophets and 40 films on Buddha, there is only one on the life of Prophet Muhammad. Unfortunately, we [have] failed to introduce our prophet to the western world."

Interest on this side of the planet about the subject matter has probably never been higher, but there is also an untapped market of 1.62 billion Muslims worldwide who could push this kind of project into blockbuster territory. The rival Sunni offering is working with that economy of scale in mind: produced by Qatari company Alnoor Holdings, it's not one film, but a projected celestial franchise of five to seven installments aiming to highlight the common ground between the Abrahamic religions, with a combined budget of $1bln; Barrie Osborne, producer of The Matrix and Lord of the Rings, is on board in an advisory capacity.

Producer Azahar Iqbal, a former climate scientist who grew up in Birmingham, England, says he is partly inspired by Hollywood's superhero films, but aims those kinds of pyrotechnics at the service of more universal, ethical concerns, to show that "power is not concentrated in one individual – but in every individual".

Islamophobia aside, these grandstanding Muhammad epics, as well as the likes of Selam, have the potential to raise the same kind of cynical responses from atheists as Mel Gibson's The Passion of the Christ. After all, you don't have to take the direct route to promote "Muslim values" – and there are plenty of Muslim film-makers who have used less strident methods. But even if you're uncomfortable about these new projects' proselytizing side, they also have a healthy focus on interfaith cooperation and cultural dialogue. Iqbal says that Alnoor's series will feature Jesus and other non-Muslim figures, and that it won't be targeted solely at religious communities. Similarly Levent Demirkale, Selam's director, stresses that he was motivated by bigger things than his own religion: "What really affected us were the humanist universal values, such as cooperation of different religions and beliefs, living for other people's happiness, loving human beings, and making sacrifices for others."

You'd have to be naïve to think money wasn't also a factor at play in faith films, as well as the prestige sought by competing countries for successfully putting the cinematic gloss on Muhammad's story. But that story always been subject to reinterpretation and debate, from the hadith forwards. And with Islam now so prominent in global affairs, there's renewed room to pick at this bundle of history and legend once again.

Historian Tom Holland ran into some of the attendant difficulties with his recent revisionist history of the religion's birth, but perhaps doing the job in a medium largely unused for the purpose, partly for a less familiar western audience, will reinvigorate the telling and the truth of it. Iqbal claims his team have an innovative "concept" in mind for the prophet's person and role, radically different to The Message's unsettling gimmick of using POV camera for a Muhammad's-eye-view. This could be an origin story with some actual revelations in it.

Published on The Guardian, 23 May 2013, Thursday