In the Shadows

Jasmine Jobson’s terrific depiction of British-Somali boxer Ramla Ali brings to life the struggle, resilience and determination of those who have crossed oceans and started over. Director Anthony Wonke’s dramatisation of her life, written by Ursula Rani Sarma, captures all patriarchal barriers and unhealed traumas that needed overcoming on her path to Olympic glory in 2021.

As refugee Muslims from Somalia, Ramla’s family considers the honour and safety of its women non-negotiable. So her ambitions to box at the Olympics are haram and cannot be approved. She has to train in secret after work, all the while fighting her mother’s (Hodan Yusuf) persistent attempts at matchmaking her with Somali men. She meets and marries a white man (Peaky Blinders’ Finn Cole), who converts to Islam out of love for her – a string of choices the family is much less resistant to than Ramla’s athletic dreams. 

But this resistance comes from a deep-seated fear around Ramla’s physical safety, with roots in an old death. Ramla lost one of her elder brothers as a child during the civil war in Somalia, which was immediately followed by their move to London. This unaddressed wound, which came to dictate all future concerns within the family, appears in recurring flashbacks. However, the frequency of the flashback feels superfluous and the film suffers from beating the point home too much.

Jasmine Jobson is fiercely moving

Jobson is fiercely moving, especially in her scenes with her hesitant mother and Clinton (Gershwyn Eustache Jr), the controlling trainer at her London gym. Clinton’s coercive abuse is well conveyed, as is Jobson’s depiction of a desperate boxer determined to follow instruction. Thanks to Jobson’s nuanced portrayal, Ramla’s determination burns through the screen with every strike and fall. While such a committed performance is typical of a sports film, Jobson’s measured restraint grounds it in the contradictions of a fully realised character.

In the Shadows is a fairly traditional biopic in the mold of Million Dollar Baby or Christy, but in addition to the sexist prejudice faced by the white women in the latter films, Ramla has to deal with the weight of racial-cultural expectation as well. To be a champion boxer and not be able to tell your mum: this is only one of its conundrums. The film is empathetic towards Ramla’s struggles, including the complications of displacement. Her dreams come true not by running away from her past and community, but by confronting the parts of her culture that impede her autonomy.

While the film follows Ramla’s arc from the time she discovers boxing in a gym class as a teenager, it interestingly ends right before the last fight. Centering the journey over the result, the film spends time on the training sessions instead, which are technically convincing (real-life Ali is seen coaching Jobson on set in a closing montage). As gritty as they are, the fight scenes are also predictable. The suspense is directed more towards how Ramla navigates her secret than how she fares in the ring, as her success is a foregone conclusion.

In the canon of sports biopics, the film is neither groundbreaking nor unique, but it will engender a sense of hope – especially among young women of colour who may recognise the painful familiarity of Ramla’s trials. 

In UK and Ireland cinemas Fri Oct 30.