Mariam Sidani | Staff Writer

  Ayyem il Waldaneh is a Syrian series I grew up with in the 2010’s. Its CD’s hummed in the DVD player till they were incessantly scratched and the permanent marker with Ayyem il Waldaneh episodes 1 till 6 wore off. The story’s about Abou Razouk, a wealthy man who finds out at some point that he’s terminally ill. It begins in a hospital lounge where his children argue like babbling baboons over the inheritance while Abou Razouk still draws breath in the adjacent room. He worries about how his assets will be split among his children and spouses— all but one. Razouk— an eccentric slacker, who cares not about money and prospects— accompanies his father. And from that moment, the series is whisked into a borderline-ridiculous sequence of events in the hub of Aleppo. Abou Razouk, with Razouk’s chaotic methods, fakes his death to unveil his family’s true colors. And as the title suggests, the duo goes on reckless activities to live the childhood days that Abou Razouk missed out on in his youth. 

  The comic adventures address many themes, like the social stance and toxicity of human behavior, how Abou Razouk’s own children turn to two faced snakes at the notion of money. It explores bribery culture known all too well in the entire region. It nods to Syria’s political state, just enough to make a point but a hair shy from being censored. It mocks the corrupt regime in its astounding idiosyncratic policies with the comedic geniuses of the head of the intelligence branch, played by Duraid Lahham, and his assistant Bassam Yakhour. Bassem played the role of such a distinct personality as the nitwit assistant with an obnoxious tone of voice. It was so well portrayed as the epitome of annoyance that I remember my dad coming to the living room one night with squinted eyes telling my siblings and I that if he hears Bassem Yakhour’s voice on the TV one more time he’d lose his damn marbles. 

But nothing tops the main duo, played by Khaled Taja and Andre Skaf. The two were such a prime example of fun you’d think they made the series as an excuse to mess around. 

But the series also tackles difficult concepts like death through the deep conversations between Razouk and his father. They discuss coming to terms with the notion of letting go. They talk about the Palestinian cause, and ridicule the fragmented state of the Arab world. 

The series becomes utterly absurd towards the end, the writers ran out of ideas as one would say. One fatuous scenario after the other. One of them was taking an Olympic flame to Lebanon, another was going to the psych ward, you get the gist. 

  A charming quality about Ayyem il Waldaneh, is how much of Syria we get. The set design is a lot more organic and laid back. We get a true sense of the setting. Whether unintentional or not, it works. The places look lived in, it almost feels like a home video. 

  This series is a classic. It’s funny, it’s nostalgic, it’s silly. It’s at a core of crisp Sunday mornings with groggy starts, sugary cereal, and scrounging for that one CD in an overfilled disk drawer.