Two teenage Muslim girls run away from their lives in London to become Brides of the Islamic state in Nadia Fall’s Brides.

Reports of girls lured from home by extremists are all too common. The journey itself, and the thoughts that shape it, are rarely seen. This film illuminates both, revealing a story that is at once familiar and unsettling.

Fall’s film walks a compelling tightrope. It tells of two girls manipulated into leaving their lives behind, told as a coming‑of‑age story. Doe (Ebada Hassan) and Muna (Safiyya Ingar) take their first trip without family, seeing the world through their own eyes and growing along the way. On the surface it is a familiar setup for the genre, but here the destination is dangerous. The idea that the journey matters more than the destination applies only in part, because in this case the end point cannot be ignored. The girls are moving toward a place from which they cannot return.

The balance is handled with care. Moments of joy, discovery and well-being are tempered by flashbacks to difficult lives in London, marked by casual anti‑Muslim sentiment and unstable home situations. Muna feels ignored by a mother who barely reacts when she announces she is leaving, while Doe feels unsafe around her mother’s drunken and abusive boyfriend. These glimpses explain why escape might seem appealing, and they are interwoven with early scenes of Islamic State propaganda on social media that sells the idea of a fresh start and a chance to make a meaningful difference. None of this justifies their decision, but it does show why it could feel like the best, and perhaps only, option.

What stands out most is how the girls are characterised. They behave like ordinary teenagers, drinking milkshakes, almost missing flights and playing “snog/marry/kill.” Their banter feels rich and authentic, and the setbacks they face are treated as challenges to be solved. They show no outward signs of brainwashing or victimhood, and to an uninvolved observer there would be no hint of the truth.

The script draws the viewer into the girls’ perspective as they face problems that could end their journey early. These setbacks might seem worth celebrating, given the monstrous nature of their destination, yet the film frames each solution as a triumph of ingenuity and resourcefulness. The audience’s foreknowledge of where they are heading is used to chilling effect, heightening the horror of how well prepared they are for the questions to come. They may not appear brainwashed, but they are, delivering precisely rehearsed answers to shut down difficult lines of inquiry as quickly as possible.

A rich sense of discovery runs throughout. The girls travel across the country, meeting mostly kind, compassionate and helpful people who unwittingly move them closer to the dark conclusion of their journey. Their awe at experiencing a foreign place is infectious. The film also offers a broad depiction of Islam, highlighting its cultural diversity and richness. At its core is the message that what awaits the girls represents only a narrow and destructive fragment of the faith, and that many other aspects could have enriched their lives instead of the path they have chosen. While the richness is compelling, the film sometimes favours atmosphere over thematic exploration, and the political context can fade into the background. The balance does tend to shift towards the coming-of-age wonderment at points. This is clearest in the way light-hearted moments sit alongside the inevitability of what awaits them.

As with the flashbacks, the joy of new experiences is always shadowed by tragic naivety. Muna guards her Air Jordans, a fashion statement with no place in the life ahead, while Doe clings to the promise of a new and better existence to replace the misery she has left behind. Reminders of the true purpose of this journey are constant, underscoring that the growth they gain along the way will be stripped from them at their destination. It is a powerful display of tonal control, where elation is steadily polluted by an unshakable sense of dread. This is not a story of transformation. It is a story of theft, in which agency, innocence and futures are quietly stolen away.

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Verdict

A powerful and relevant film that frames coming-of-age through a distorted lens, guiding its characters toward a dark destination through an excellent use of tonal imbalance.

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