‘DJ Ahmet’ Review: Techno Music and Shepherding Collide in a Touching Coming-of-Age Tale

Picture Footloose happening right now in a tiny village in Northern Macedonia, and you’ll get the vibe behind writer-director Georgi M. Unkovski’s touching feature debut, DJ Ahmet.

Set in a remote Yuruk farming community where religion and tradition dominate both the young and old, the dramedy follows a 15-year-old shepherd who finds salvation from the daily grind in electronic dance music. The beats not only help him to endure the wrath of his strict and domineering father, but to connect with a neighboring girl who dreams of skipping town.

Premiering in Sundance’s world cinema competition, DJ Ahmet has a slick, crowd-pleasing quality that could entice streamers or select distributors. The film playfully critiques certain Muslim customs, but never in a demeaning way, while providing a heartwarming coming-of-age narrative that’s a tad predictable.

The titular Ahmet (Arif Jakup) is whisked out of school in the opening scene and forced to work on the family farm, where he literally counts sheep every morning and night. His father (Aksel Mehmet) has little patience for his son’s daydreaming, while Ahmet’s younger brother, Naim (Agush Agushev), has not spoken since their mom died.

As picturesque as the North Macedonian settings are, this is a harsh world overseen by a devout patriarchy — one where life seems to have gone on the same way for centuries. It’s therefore a surprise when we see Ahmet wander off the farm one night, following his beautiful neighbor, Aya (Dora Akan Zlatanova), as she makes her way to a clandestine rave party. It’s even more of a surprise when Ahmet’s flock of sheep trail him to the dance floor, making for a viral moment that turns Ahmet into a local celebrity.

Unkovski makes use of these unexpected contrasts throughout the movie, revealing how the younger generation of villagers relies on smartphones, Bluetooth speakers and EDM remixes to find themselves amid a life of religious severity. Music, especially in the case of the little Naim, who dances whenever he can, also provides a sense of joy in a household traumatized by death and ruled over by a father who still seems to be mourning.

The dual plotlines involving Ahmet’s gradual emancipation from his dad, as well as his budding relationship with Aya — who’s about to be married off by her own authoritarian father — head in expected directions. But they’re buoyed by a warm sense of character and a few running gags that land well, especially one involving a minaret whose prayer calls keep getting messed up, until they become a major facet of the story in the last act.

The director and DP Naum Doksevski (Housekeeping for Beginners) bathe the film in a golden light that’s far from the dour look of many arthouse movies set in the former Balkans. They also resort to slow-motion and swooping camera movements for the dance sequences, setting them apart from the rest of the action in ways that are both magical and MTV-esque.

Working with a mostly amateur cast, Unkovski gets them all to deliver solid naturalistic performances, especially the likeable newcomer Jakup. Playing a teenager whose face is sunburnt from toiling all day outside, and who wears the same muddied jumpsuit in nearly every scene, he gradually reveals Ahmet to be a true Kevin Bacon-style rebel behind his country bumpkin demeanor. And while the boy is never anything close to an actual DJ, he does the one thing all good DJs do: He keeps the beat coming.