Fouad Is Not a Criminal: A Chaotic Morality
Words & images: Ziad Naitaddi
Published: September 2025
“I challenge you to find an independent film theater in Rabat, which is considered the cultural capital of Morocco, that shows, for example, Tarkovsky...”
Fouad is a name that every person interested in arthouse cinema in Morocco would likely hear at a festival, a conference, or a coffee meeting after an independent film screening. Everyone knows that in the era of DVDs and video cassettes, the only way to find auteur films was to search for Fouad’s shop at the bottom of Rabat’s medina. He began selling classic music and films from the 1940s to the 1970s. During this time, his small shop became a haven for expatriates seeking rare and often independent films, with Fouad proving invaluable in helping them track these down. As his collection expanded, he developed a deep appreciation for arthouse cinema. Over time, his humble store evolved into an unexpected cultural hub, attracting members of Morocco’s intellectual and artistic community.
Fouad’s name was suggested to me by a PhD researcher in cinema, but I never found him. Then, I met Fouad one day without realizing who he was.
I remember that at the age of 17, while walking through the streets of Rabat’s medina, I saw by chance this image of two women kissing each other on the neck. For me, a young teenager growing up in a conservative society, it represented an attraction to the forbidden, the unspoken—as in our conservative society, we grow up having a complex relationship with publicly viewing others’ bodies, especially women’s. This complexity, shaped by religious morality, leads us to experience the idea that “everything that is forbidden is attractive.” This pushed me to buy this DVD, which cost 8 MAD ($1). It was a film by Ingmar Bergman called Persona.
As a film I first saw as a teenager, I was struck by an approach to cinema that was strangely meaningful on one level but remained mysterious on another. This was the first time I was truly immersed in something I didn’t fully comprehend—visually and intellectually—driving me to innocently explore a realm of thought our society often underestimates, considering such discovery and deep reflection foolish.
In my search for similar films, Fouad suggested Once Upon a Time in Anatolia by Turkish filmmaker Nuri Bilge Ceylan. Despite negative comments calling it “boring,” I watched it out of necessity. I fell asleep, but upon waking, all the characters’ faces haunted me. It fascinated me incomprehensibly. Even though the police investigation plot wasn’t what I expected, it delivered something far more profound and captivating in a way that I can’t articulate! Instinctively, I went back to Fouad’s shop, and he gave me Uzak by the same filmmaker. This film was a revelation: I discovered a human complexity I believed was unique to my experience. I identified with a character very different from myself; I recognized in him parts of myself I had always perceived as strange or different. It was the first time I experienced such a feeling of identification and validation of my own existence.
I began to realize that cinema is not only there to tell or analyze the particularities of human beings or their life paths through specific protagonists, but rather to universalize the singularity of human existence as a refined, unique, metaphysical experience. I decided to leave everything, including my Economic and Business Administration studies at university, and to devote myself fully to artistic creation—or rather to travel to the depths of my soul and my emotional existence, which required all my time and reflection, in order to share and invite others to share, to identify with it.
I decided to become an artist; I wanted to be a filmmaker. But the lack of means prevented me from doing so. Discovering that Ceylan was also a photographer gave me both access to the medium and courage to start following in his footsteps. I began by visualizing my own investigations and emotional introspections through photography, using the camera my father had bought me as a gift after I passed my baccalaureate.
Fouad is not just a person who sells pirated films in Morocco; he is a concept of resistance. Like what the filmmaker Jonas Mekas has always said: “We are the Palestinians of cinema.” I think that Fouad represents this notion of an outsider who is transformed into a powerful concept of manifestation and resilience, embodying the bright counterpoint to the restrictive cultural policies of a country in the Global South. Thanks to Fouad’s resilience and risk-taking in a geography lacking democracy, our friendship became close, like true brothers, and I understood that our experiences are naturally identical, simply colored by our unique eccentricities as they converge across different stages, times, and places
Courtesy of the Artist & Fouad Beniouri. This project was supported by l’Institut Français du Maroc in collaboration with Le Cube-independent art room.
Ziad Naitaddi (b. 1995, Rabat) is a Moroccan artist who lives and works in Rabat. His practice often extends beyond the act of photographing itself, revisiting archives, collecting written and oral testimonies, and re-engaging with his own photographs years after their development. He refers to this approach as “photographic exhumation”—a process that allows him to explore narrative possibilities beyond the camera. In his recent projects, he explores migration and its emotional complexities—distance from one’s homeland, exile, integration, exclusion—viewing these as spaces of layered encounters. His work has been presented internationally at institutions including the Center of Contemporary Photographic Art – Villa Perochon (FRA), the 13th Dakar Biennale (SEN), Dapper Foundation (FRA/SEN), Le Cube – independent art room (MAR), Sharjah Art Foundation (UAE), Galerie 127 (MAR/FRA), La Condition Publique (FRA), the 32nd Encontros Da Imagem (PRT), Museo Nazionale MAXXI (ITA), and Fotogalerie WUK (AUT). Naitaddi’s upcoming projects include a solo exhibition in Marrakech featuring a public talk in autumn 2025, followed by The Presents, a collaborative exhibition with Austrian artist Anja Manfredi opening November 10, 2025 at Le Cube-independent art room, Rabat, exploring themes related to the High-Atlas earthquake. From December 2025 through February 2026, Naitaddi will be artist-in-residence at ZK/U Berlin, supported by the Goethe Institute.