STIGMA, 30min., Tunisia
Directed by Dali Mansour
During the Covid-19 lockdown, “Stigma” explores the emotional impact on Bochra, a young woman living alone in France. Through webcam exchanges with her parents in Tunisia, Bochra struggles with painful memories and a dark past. Confronted with solitude in her Parisian apartment, she faces shadows of her past, gradually revealing a deeply buried trauma. The film delves into themes of resilience, the importance of family bonds, and the quest for self in an isolated world, leading to a poignant revelation.
https://www.instagram.com/stigmashortfilm/
Get to know the filmmaker:
1. What motivated you to make this film?
At first, I wanted to explore psychological disorders, particularly depression. I personally suffered from anxiety for many years, so I know how crippling these conditions can be. The idea for the film was born during the very beginning of the COVID-19 lockdown, at a time when the media was widely reporting on the impact of isolation on mental health. I remember thinking how terrible it must be for those who were already emotionally fragile. In France, some helplines were made available, but I felt it was far from enough.
I then entered a period of intense research and reading, which gradually led me to true crime stories. I’ve always been struck by those sections, not out of fascination for the tragedy, but because they often reveal truths that society prefers to ignore. One subject kept appearing again and again: rape. What shocked me was realizing how often these cases go nowhere: no resolution, no justice. It deeply outraged me.
I spent hours reading and watching victims’ testimonies. What affected me the most was the unbearable injustice: in 90% of cases, the perpetrators go free, while the victims remain trapped in pain for the rest of their lives.
That’s when I decided to write. But I won’t lie, it was incredibly hard. Because to write about such a subject, you inevitably have to step into the victim’s skin, try to feel what they’re going through. And doing so brought back some of my own inner demons.
Since I often use symbolism and metaphor in my work, I chose this path to express the emotional states of the characters: their silence, their rage, their isolation.
That’s how Stigma was born: a film carried by heart, by pain, but also by hope.
2. From the idea to the finished product, how long did it take for you to make this film?
It took me four years, from March 2020 to July 2024. Naturally, the writing came first. But it wasn’t a straight path. I went through many versions of the script. At one point, I even broke it apart completely. I told myself to stop trying to make it fit any expectations, and instead follow my own vision. I decided to give a little freedom to my inner madness.
The longest and most difficult part was the fundraising. It was incredibly hard to convince people to support a film that deals with such a sensitive and disturbing topic. Many turned away. But I kept going. Once the funding was finally secured, I was able to gather the team, shoot the film, and move into post-production. Every stage demanded patience, sacrifice, and an unwavering belief in the importance of this story.
3. How would you describe your film in two words?
Painful resilience.
4. What was the biggest obstacle you faced in completing this film?
One of the biggest challenges was the train station scene. We didn’t get official permission to shoot there until the third day of production, which meant we had to start thinking about a backup plan while we were already filming.
Originally, we planned to shoot on a real train platform using mostly natural settings and minimal VFX. Renting and privatizing a train for two full days was far beyond our budget, but thanks to the remarkable work of our production team, we eventually managed to secure the train. Once that was confirmed, our partners followed and gave their full support.
When we finally got access to the station in Tunis, the SNCFT (Tunisian National Railway Company) did everything they could to support us, and I am truly grateful to them.
However, we were assigned a platform next to the station’s main offices. The background was completely wrong for the scene: visible office walls, outdoor AC units, pipes, and other industrial elements that broke the emotional tone I had envisioned. It ruined the atmosphere I wanted to create.
So we improvised by setting up green screens everywhere. The problem was, we hadn’t planned for that, and we didn’t have a VFX team on set. Everything had to be coordinated remotely, over the phone.
As a result, the post-production process became extremely complex. Every frame had to be carefully cleaned and rebuilt. It caused a seven-month delay in the delivery of the film, but in the end, the VFX team did an outstanding job. They worked like craftsmen, frame by frame, to bring back the atmosphere I had imagined from the start. Their dedication and precision saved this crucial scene.
And beyond that, there were other major challenges. Convincing partners and institutions to support a film dealing with incestuous rape was incredibly difficult. Many prefer to avoid such topics. Finding the right tone, symbolic, emotional, yet clear, was a constant struggle. And of course, carrying the emotional and financial burden of such a project was never easy.
5. What were your initial reactions when watching the audience talking about your film in the feedback video?
I was deeply moved. When you work on something for years in silence, you never really know if people will understand or feel what you intended. Hearing the audience’s words brought me both relief and renewed strength. It reminded me why I chose to make this film.
What touched me the most was that the feedback was not only emotional, but also thoughtful and detailed. People appreciated the film from both a storytelling and technical point of view. As a director, when you hear positive reactions about almost every department such as the acting, cinematography, sound, set design, makeup, costume, and post-production, it makes you feel that something truly worked.
For me, the real challenge was to create a team that would stand together, working side by side, all carrying the same vision. I wanted each crew member to feel fully involved and to believe in the film. Hearing that their work was recognized by the audience made me proud. It meant a lot to me because they followed me into this adventure with trust and conviction. And that is not easy when it is your first film. Their faith in me is something I will never forget.
6. When did you realize that you wanted to make films?
My father is a film director in Tunisia, so I grew up surrounded by cameras and film sets. As a child, I acted in commercials, and I was always trying to stay on set as much as possible. I watched closely, listened, observed every detail. Cinema was already shaping me before I even understood what it meant.
My father, knowing how demanding this industry is, tried to dissuade me from choosing this path. He had seen how harsh it could be, and he wanted to protect me. But I held on. I have never been attracted to ease. I think there is no flavor in things that come too easily.
I was a teenager when I realized that cinema was more than a world I admired. It became the space where I could express everything I could not say with words. I grew up immersed in images and emotions. Cinema became a refuge, a mirror, and sometimes even a weapon. It was never just a career. It was a necessity.
7. What film have you seen the most in your life?
I truly love all kinds of cinema. From the westerns of Sergio Leone to the comedic duo of Bud Spencer and Terence Hill. I’m also a big fan of horror, though not the gory kind. I admire the genre because I find it extremely hard to master, especially after The Exorcist (1973), directed by William Friedkin and written by William Peter Blatty. That film set the bar so high, it felt like they closed the game and left a note to future writers and directors saying, “Good luck topping this.”
I’m fascinated by filmmakers who create their own worlds. I’m drawn to the cinema of Michael Haneke, particularly Funny Games, which has a sadistic edge that directly confronts the viewer and forces them to reflect on their own position as a spectator. I also admire the boldness of Tarantino, the visual precision of Wes Anderson, and I’m deeply moved by the work of Darren Aronofsky. The Fountain, to me, is a masterpiece on every level — visually, emotionally, and philosophically.
I also have a deep admiration for Italian Neorealism. Films like Bicycle Thieves by Vittorio De Sica, La Terra Trema by Luchino Visconti, or Accattone by Pier Paolo Pasolini have left a lasting impression on me. There is something raw and honest in that movement, a human dignity filmed with such restraint and respect. It’s a school of sincerity that continues to inspire me.
But to answer your question more directly, I would say the films I’ve watched the most are the first three Matrix movies. Honestly, I must have seen them close to a thousand times.
The Matrix hit me like a wave. It represents everything I believe cinema should be. It blends spectacle with substance. Cinema, after all, was born as a fairground art. It was meant to entertain, to astonish, to move from town to town and spark wonder. Yet even in its earliest forms, it carried emotion and meaning that lingered long after the show ended.
That is exactly what The Matrix manages to do. It gives the audience a complete experience. It entertains, surprises, provokes, and moves. It was technically ahead of its time and thematically visionary. I remember when it came out, many people dismissed it as just science fiction, saying it could never happen. But with the rise of artificial intelligence and robotics, we are getting closer to that reality. So yes, go ahead and say the Wachowskis didn’t warn us.
8. What other elements of the festival experience can we and other festivals implement to satisfy you and help you further your filmmaking career?
A physical festival that brings people together in the same space will always offer something unique. Being able to meet the audience, feel their reactions in real time, and exchange thoughts face to face is an irreplaceable part of the experience. I believe festivals could go even further by offering meaningful post-screening discussions, creating real opportunities for connection between filmmakers and industry professionals, and giving more visibility to films that address socially difficult or uncomfortable topics.
Your audience feedback video is already a great initiative. It humanizes the experience. As independent filmmakers, we rarely get to hear such sincere and unfiltered reactions from viewers. It helps us grow and feel less alone in this journey.
9. You submitted to the festival via FilmFreeway. How has your experience been working on the festival platform site?
It’s practical and user-friendly. It has become an essential tool for independent filmmakers, even if the competition is overwhelming and sometimes opaque.
10. What is your favorite meal?
I would say Mloukhiya, a traditional Tunisian dish that means a lot to me. It’s made from dried Jew’s mallow leaves that are ground into a fine green powder, then slowly cooked with olive oil and spices, usually with beef or lamb. The cooking process can take up to 12 hours, and there’s something almost ritualistic about it. The smell fills the house all day, and when it’s finally ready, it tastes like home, memory, and comfort all at once.
Its appearance can be misleading. It’s dark, thick, and might look strange to someone seeing it for the first time. But once you taste it, you instantly regret not having discovered it earlier. It’s one of those dishes where the depth of flavor completely surprises you.
I also love couscous, especially the Tunisian way. Whether it’s made with lamb and vegetables, or with octopus or fish, using very fine, hand-rolled semolina, it’s a dish that brings people together. Each version has its own story. And no matter how many times I eat it, it always feels special.
Unfortunately, Tunisian cuisine is still too little known internationally. People often associate it with street food, which is excellent, but it only scratches the surface. Our traditional dishes are an explosion of unique flavors, passed down through generations. Each one is prepared with love and patience. Even our pasta is unlike any other : bold, spiced, and full of personality.
And of course, I can’t talk about Tunisian food without mentioning harissa. It’s a chili paste made with sun-dried peppers, garlic, olive oil, and spices. It’s intense, flavorful, and proudly Tunisian. It’s more than a condiment, it’s part of our identity, and it brings warmth and fire to every table.
11. What is next for you? A new film?
Right after finishing Stigma, I started writing a feature film. The urge was there. I felt like I was ready to say something on a larger scale. But I quickly realized it was too soon. I didn’t want to rush things or skip essential steps. I want to gain more maturity, expand my network, meet people in this industry, and give my creative instincts more space to grow.
That’s why I decided to develop another short film first. I’m currently in the financing phase, which is never easy. If you happen to have any advice, contacts, or ideas, I’d be truly grateful.
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