For Karim, Mirage is not about sugarcoating or romanticising mental health, but about honesty, vulnerability, and sparking conversations in spaces where the subject is too often avoided. She reflects on shaping the project through personal experience, the role of technology in evoking empathy, and why bringing Mirage to Venice is an opportunity to expand dialogue around depression, anxiety, and immersive storytelling.
AM: The title Mirage evokes both beauty and elusiveness. Why did you choose this metaphor for depression and anxiety, and how does it reflect the emotional journey you wanted to create?
Naima Karim: We knew that we wanted the title to relate to the desert landscape that we would be using as the metaphorical representation of the girl’s, the main character's, mind. The desert is beautiful but also harsh and unforgiving, much like the mind of someone who has depression and anxiety. Often, for people with depression and anxiety, happiness can feel like a mirage in the desert. You believe that you need to accomplish a certain goal to be happy again, and every time you get close, there's another thing you have to get through. This is a sort of black-and-white thinking that we wanted to move away from. It’s not either happiness or no happiness. Both someone who relates to the girl and the audience’s position have to accept that it won’t be an easy journey. The message we want to send is that, although it won’t get easier, any gesture of empathy and kindness can make it even slightly better.
We also didn’t want to sugarcoat or romanticize depression and anxiety. The relation to the beauty of the desert would come more from the beauty of being honest and vulnerable.
AM: You’ve mentioned that the project is rooted in very personal experience. How did you balance vulnerability and honesty with the need to create an artwork that remains open for audiences to interpret and connect with?
Naima Karim: The story is based on the relationship between Aleena and me, but a lot of what the girl goes through in the film is an amalgamation of real experiences. We carefully picked specific moments that represent similar experiences and are based on what we knew other people who have depression have also experienced. We also spoke to Sarah Trevathan, a mental health consultant, and Mia Clarice Treakle, a parent coach and educator who gave very valuable feedback. People can sense and feel more connected when they experience something real and honest. Using the desert metaphor instead of a literal representation also helped provide a foundation while still leaving room for audiences to connect personally.
AM: Mirage uses innovative tools, from hand-tracking to haptic vests, to engage viewers physically as well as emotionally. How did you decide which technologies best served the story you wanted to tell?
Naima Karim: We used VR because it incorporates the most senses. In VR you can’t look away from a 360 world; the main character’s world encompasses you. The audience can’t escape the discomfort the same way the girl cannot escape. That, in addition to hand-tracking and the haptic vest, allows the audience to be closer to the main character and be in her consciousness with her, to see and experience her struggles. Including hand-tracking in the film lets audiences interact directly with the girl to show them how their actions have impact.
Anxiety is often believed to have exclusively mental effects, something you can shut off, but it is actually a very physical experience. Anxiety can, among many other things, lead to chest pain, an increased heart rate, and shortness of breath. It creates intense physical pain because the body is going through high amounts of panic. We tried to recreate the increasing heart rate and physical discomfort through different sorts of vibrations in the haptic vest. Feeling these sensations on your own body really breaks down the boundary that anxiety and depression are just mental.
The technology we used combined to inspire empathy and allow the audience to feel, even if just a fraction of, how anxiety can feel. Experiencing it for yourself is even more impactful than only hearing about the experiences from someone.
AM: One of the most powerful aspects of the experience is encouraging audiences to support the young girl, while showing how difficult it can be for someone with depression to accept help. What do you hope people will feel in that moment of interaction?
Naima Karim: We hope to show that in these situations wanting to help is innate but knowing how is not. Most people aren’t taught how to deal with these emotions if you have them or how to help someone who is. We want to acknowledge that it is difficult and frustrating to watch people you care about refuse your support, especially because often neither of you understands what is happening or why. But it’s important not to lose hope and, even if it takes time, understand that one day they might accept help. You can show empathy by just being there and putting in the effort to try to understand. A main message of the film is that the fact that you’re trying is what is important.
AM: Mental health is still often a sensitive or under-discussed subject in the Middle East. How important was it for you to bring this project into a cultural space where it can spark new conversations?
Naima Karim: Sparking conversation and bringing attention to depression and anxiety in young people is the main motivation behind this film. Creating this experience was to help people understand and learn from the mistakes we made because we didn’t know what was happening. Talking about mental health is taboo or frowned upon in many cultures and leaves people deprived of a place to be vulnerable. But not talking about mental health doesn’t make it disappear. When people can’t be open it only worsens because there is nowhere to learn about it. People feel ashamed and isolated. Even in cultures where mental health is discussed, mental health is very personal and requires people to be vulnerable, which can be difficult.
During the demo of the film we saw many people who wanted to discuss and share their personal experiences and how they related to the film. Sometimes, it was one of the first times they were comfortable enough to share that they too had depression or anxiety, or felt that for the first time what they experienced was accurately represented. Although it was always our intention to bring attention to depression and anxiety, responses like these showed us the importance of Mirage in a way we didn’t expect.
AM: What does it mean to you to present Mirage at Venice’s Immersive section, and how do you hope this international platform will expand the dialogue around empathy, mental health, and the power of immersive storytelling?
Naima Karim: Venice Immersive is a very important and prestigious film festival, and having Mirage’s world premiere there has given the film a bigger platform and greater value to a broader audience, which was always our goal. Through Venice Immersive, Mirage can reach a variety of audiences, from experts to art enthusiasts, of differing backgrounds around the world who appreciate and relate to the film in different ways. The more people watch Mirage, the more they can discuss it and its message with the people around them.