In Bastards we are witness to the difficulties Moroccan mothers face when trying to obtain legal recognition for children whose existence is denied by their fathers. This documentary film follows Rabha, a young illiterate mother-of-one in various locations: in her parent's home in the countryside, in the village where she was sent to marry her nephew, and in court. Rabha was forced to marry the son of her mother's brother and live in his village more than 500 kilometers away from her parent's home. The marriage was informal, a so-called fatiha marriage in which a union is recognized and celebrated in Rabha's community, but not registered with the relevant state authorities: under Moroccan law the minimum age for marriage is eighteen yet Rabha was only fourteen and Rabha's family, as is common practice in this part of Morocco, planned to legalize the marriage later on. But when Rabha became pregnant, her uncle drove her back home telling her to raise the “bastard” on her own. Rabha, however, refuses to register as a single mother since children who are not attached to their father's lineage are deprived of many legal and religious rights, such as financial maintenance and inheritance, and subject to significant stigmatization. She also wants maintenance and a place to live for her and her daughter. And so she decides to raise a court case and force her husband to recognize his daughter.

Rabha has relatively little difficulties proving her marital relationship to the judges of the family court and safeguarding her daughter's financial and legal rights because her daughter is beloved and recognized as a legitimate child by Rabha's parents and the community the child lives in. This is not true for other children whose lives remain in the background of Rabha's story. These true outcasts of Moroccan society live in a charity center where fifty single mothers who refused to give up their illegitimate babies but who cannot count on the support of their families find shelter. These children are the result of sexual relationships, including those in which men make false promises of marriage, that are not accepted legally or socially.

However, the legal process is not without hurdles for Rabha and her family, as the documentary very convincingly demonstrates. First, Rabha and supporting witnesses must travel more than 500 kilometers to reach the courthouse that has jurisdiction over her case. This is not only time consuming, but also very expensive. Second, without the help of local NGOs illiterate Rabha and other women in similar situations either would have to engage with very expensive lawyers or face the judges alone.

It is precisely for these reasons, and to avoid the legal and social consequences of illegitimate childbirth that I found in my own fieldwork research (2014–15), that after the implementation of the 2004 Moroccan family law reform, judges are usually quick to authorize requests for underage marriage. This attitude has been criticized in various academic studies for upholding traditions that are harmful to women and children. Bastards makes abundantly clear what happens when judges do not authorize such requests.

Providing rare insight into Moroccan courtroom proceedings, the film follows the tradition of documentaries that capture real life courtroom drama in countries such as Cameroon, Iran, Israel, Niger, and Nigeria. In so doing, this genre of documentaries offers important insights into how legal norms and social norms interact, into ways that differ from country to country. For example, in contrast to some other documentaries, such as Women Unchained (Israel) and Divorce Iranian Style (Iran), Bastards shows that the Moroccan legal system provides single mothers and their children some human rights. Ultimately, however, it is not the attitude of judges but those of the members of society that determine whether it is acceptable for men to deny the paternity of their children in a society where a child's attachment to its father's lineage is the primary source of legal and social recognition. In a society where sex outside marriage is against legal, social and religious mores, Deborah Perkin skillfully and with great sensitivity demonstrates that while there are still many “bastards” who evade justice, the 2004 family law has given some women and their children access to a more dignified life.

Bastards is quite affecting and when used in teaching it will enhance student engagement with course materials offered in gender studies, Islamic studies, Middle East North African studies, and legal-anthropological studies. It will also be of interest to international development professionals with an interest in the MENA region. Bastards not only shows how some women use the legal system to their advantage, it is equally important in showing how to some women the remedies the legal system has to offer remain inaccessible. Combined with readings, Bastards is sure to stimulate discussions of concepts that are often hard to grasp, such as gender, sexual identity, access to justice, and shariʿa-based legal reform.