Short Stop: Prostrate and Draw Near shows a unique perspective of the pandemic

I'm not a religious person. I used to be. I was raised in a Christian home, and as I got older, became more personally invested in my religious journey. Maybe someday, there will be a reason to go into detail here, but for now, I'll give the short tease version: I ended up in a Christian cult in college, got kicked out for being gay, and now here I am, a firm atheist who is willing to go to church with my parents when I visit them, but is generally wary of religion.

But despite -- or maybe because of -- my background, I'm really drawn to stories that revolve around, or at least involve, religion. I love a good drama set against a religious backdrop (Conclave hive, rise up!), or a satire. Whatever it is. I don't see a lot of animation that touches on religious topics, save an occasional Christian-targeted, faith-based film. So I really enjoyed checking out Prostrate and Draw Near, a Saudi animated short from directors Suraya AlShehry and Nabila Abuljadayel. 

Based on the artwork of the same name by Abuljadayel, the film depicts the strangeness of the Holy Mosque in Mecca during the coronavirus pandemic. Most people know of Mecca, maybe as more of a concept than an actual place. It's become shorthand for religious dedication, a faith-based pilgrimage. As you can imagine, the grand building is normally packed with people who come from all over the world, where they circumambulate in the courtyard, pray, and worship.

Covid has become a touchstone in a lot of modern stories, and for obvious reason. It's something we all share, a rare worldwide common experience that touched us all, some more profoundly than others. For many, the horrors are still ongoing: loved ones lost, lingering long covid symptoms, other echoes of the world that once was that we long to claim again. But within that communal experience that we all know, there are so many unique stories, too, so many specific instances that most of us didn't experience, and never would have. That's the case here.

Prostrate and Draw Near takes place in the empty Holy Mosque, where the only characters we see wandering the halls are a cleaning person, and a pigeon, who frankly seems baffled by the emptiness. The cleaner goes about his duties, provides the pigeon a bowl of water, and eventually makes his way to the massive courtyard, where he becomes to sole worshipper where normally, there are thousands (maybe more -- I can't quite fathom the size, though the film does a nice job depicting it). It's such a fascinating corner of the world, a story I never would've even thought of, it's so far from my experience. Which is what makes it a story worth telling.

The animation is a bit rough, but gets the job done. The artwork of the characters and the backgrounds don't quite gel, but each piece on its own looks fine, and the film achieves its goal all the same. Over almost the entire short, there's a beautiful song playing that sounds like a chant, or a prayer. It feels worthy of the setting, of the solemnity of the piece. It's respectful, full of awe, full of hope. For a bit of the runtime, we're transported back in time, as the cleaner pictures more bustling days at the mosque, when the courtyard was packed with pilgrims and worshippers. This part has a nice grain to it, almost like you're watching a dusty video tape. That really is what it felt like during the days of lockdown when you remembered the world as it was before, and wondered if it would ever be that way again.

So, I think, Prostrate and Draw Near does a good job of capturing that moment of uncertainty, of disconnect, of isolation, in a way I haven't seen before. I love to watch stuff from different perspectives, from different parts of the world, to hear those voices, those stories, those prayers.