myDylarama

The Viewing Booth - Ra'anan Alexandrowicz's thought experiment

Abla Kandalaft — 2021-01-28T11:06:14Z

In a lab-like location, Maia Levy, a young Jewish American woman, watches videos portraying life in the occupied West Bank, while verbalizing her thoughts and feelings in real time.

Director Alexandrowicz once again explores and denounces the injustices faced by Palestinians living under occupation this time in a clever experimental process whereby he aims to capture the viewer's emotional and verbal responses to a series of videos - many of them shot by Jerusalem-based human rights NGO Btselem- that expose acts of violence, humiliation and other injustices Palestinians face on a daily basis. His aim is to try and understand the dynamics at play between non-fiction images and the way they are received by their viewers. Do we all see the same thing? How much of our own beliefs and prejudices to we bring to the experience? How much do these skew what we are witnessing and how we process it? Ultimately, how much can documentary film affect the viewer's view of the world and drive them to act?

The documentary centres on Maia who is by all intent an keen supporter of Israel and who volunteers to watch these videos, which trigger all sorts of conflicting responses and emotions as her views are challenged and her beliefs are put under the spotlight.

In his director's statement, Alexandrowicz writes "The introspective nature of The Viewing Booth determined its unconventional form and structure – one that often evokes the idea of a mirror, or a hall of mirrors. As the work on the film progressed, I realized that it is not only Maia and myself, who are facing our own reflections through this film."

It really brings home the reasons why horrific, explicit images of say, the bombing of Gaza don't automatically lead to unequivocal revulsion. As you watch these images, you think 'surely, surely, nobody could justify this. There is no world in which this isn't indiscriminate, unjustified killing/humiliation/destruction.' And yet that's under-estimating just how much one's internalised view of the world around them shapes the way they interpret these images. Post-modernism, digital manipulation and the filter of social media have all added extra layers of complexity to what an image conveys and how it is interpreted. The repercussions are all-encompassing. The Viewing Booth intelligently exposes the limits of documentaries and news footage in terms of relaying the reality on the ground.

The film has enjoyed a number of screenings as part of events and festivals, more recently through the ICA, but the simplest way to watch it is probably on its official website here!

Our Picks And The Staircase

Abla Kandalaft, Coco Green — 2020-07-21T11:32:33Z

In this episode, we discuss our picks of the fortnight and focus on true crime documentary The Staircase and the issues that it brings up.

The Dark finale was definitely a highlight, a truly gripping series, with twists and turns as bonkers as those in Lost, with none of the incoherence and sheer wackiness. Palestinian filmmaker Sameer Qumsieh's doc Walled Citizen, in which he explores travelling with the world's lowest ranking passport was screened as part of the Galway FF selection. You will hopefully be able to catch it at the UK Adventure Travel film festival and the Manhattan Film Festival in August.

Kaveh Abbasian's A Long Distance podcast is on Soundcloud. Art of Persia is still available on BBC iPlayer.

Korean Film Nights and Birkbeck's season- Trapped! The Cinema of Confinementstarts this week.

Made-for-TV movie The Clark Sisters: First Ladies of Gospel(2019) proved to be more than a melodrama. It's about the price one family paid to change the gospel genre forever and the moving concert scenes are the icing on the cake. Other top picks are College Behind Bars (2019), a four-part documentary series profiling the Bard Prison Initiative (BPI) which is a vehicle for inmate rehabilitation, redemption and transformation; and Mucho Mucho Amor: The Legend of Walter Mercado (2020) which raises questions around gender and sexuality in Latin American media representation, but bizarrely not race, providing a cautionary tale of ownership and exploitation in show business.

We'll be focusing on Secorro's recommendation - The Staircase, currently available on Netflix, and discuss issues it brings up around culpability, social and marital expectations, the nature of factual evidence and all sorts of anecdotes. Tip: Watch ALL 13 episodes to understand the full scope of the discussion!

Q&A with Shady Srour, dir. Oslo - Clermont 2020

Abla Kandalaft — 2020-02-21T15:37:52Z

Ziad, a Palestinian day labourer, is denied entry into Israel for work that day.
Not wanting to return home empty handed after promising his daughter meat for dinner, he needs to get creative.

Trump's latest meddling in the region has effectively left many if not most Palestinians feeling hopeless. The title of this short is a nod to the Oslo Accords that ended up dispossessing them of more of their land and subduing much of their fight for rights and freedom. The recent US "deal" further removes what was left of their hopes. Shady Srour's anger at this state of affairs is tangible in this very moving, poetic and impressive short that leaves the viewer sharing the rousing frustration.

Trailer

OSLO | Short Film by Shady Srour | Trailer from Film Five on Vimeo.

Q&A with Farah Nabulsi, dir. The Present - Clermont 2020 Audience Award

Abla Kandalaft — 2020-02-09T19:23:21Z

On his wedding anniversary, Yusef and his young daughter set out in the West Bank to buy his wife a gift. Between soldiers, segregated roads and checkpoints, how easy would it be to go shopping?

British-Palestinian Farah Nabulsi is relatively new to filmmaking, which can come as a surprise given just how adept she is at provoking the most rousing emotions in her viewers by telling a fairly simple story. The audience award that she deservedly won in Clermont clearly highlights just how effectively The Present achieves its aim, moving its audience and hopefully provoking some level of outrage and anger at the injustice faced by father Yusef (and through the prism of his story, all Palestinians). Seasoned Palestinian actor Saleh Bakri is unsurprisingly excellent and Maryam Kanj who plays his daughter delivers a wonderfully mature performance. Finally, kudos to Farah for managing to film across checkpoints and endless limitations.

More on the film...

Can you tell us a bit about your background as a filmmaker?

Actually, I don't have a background in filmmaking! After a life-changing trip to the Occupied Palestinian Territories around five years ago, I started to write privately and therapeutically on what I had seen, felt and begun to imagine as I naturally found myself exercising empathy by placing myself into the shoes of those who are suffering gross injustice. Around two years later, I “chose” to become a filmmaker at the age of 38, by adapting those initial written pieces and producing them as short films. I had never worked in the industry, had absolutely no past experience in making films or any formal training or education in film, but I always loved film and that was enough. Put that together with my vivid visual and verbal imagination and my enjoyment in telling stories – and it made sense. The great Stanley Kubrick said: “The best education in film is to make one,” and I couldn't agree more. That brings us to The Present. This is the fourth short film I have written, but the first one that I have also directed, so the learning curve was huge. The process was daunting and thrilling at the same time!

Where is the film shot? How difficult was the shoot? What were the main hurdles?

The film was shot 100% in Occupied Palestine, in the Bethlehem area. Shooting in Palestine is never going to be easy. The cast and crew have different IDs and can come and go with different freedoms, which can mean unnecessary delays and restrictions. It is in a landscape under military occupation, so during the shoot we could be prevented from filming at any moment, but thankfully we were not. When we did recce we found great locations, but they were usually in Area C, which is completely under Israeli military control and obtaining permits to film there would have been next to impossible, but shooting without them would be too risky, so we had to give those up and settle for locations that were mostly not ideal at all, in more central areas with lots of traffic and noise that needed to be controlled although we had wanted quieter and less busy areas, etc. One of the hardest things we did, and took a big risk on, was filming at the infamous real Checkpoint 300 in Bethlehem (scene 2 of the film), where hundreds of Palestinians pass through every morning like cattle. The only fiction in that scene is our protagonist, Yusef (Saleh Bakri). Filming that morning was intense, as we had taken no permissions from anyone and were surrounded by real people who were being humiliated in actual fact by a military who were just around the corner. The more philosophical question though is – who has the right to give or refuse permission to film such a monstrosity and why is such a monstrosity there in the first place? It was intense and tough, and we risked attracting military attention at any moment, but it felt extremely rewarding once we were done.

Did you work with Israeli actors as well?

Everyone who worked on the shoot of the film was Palestinian, except our DOP, Benoît Chamaillard, who is French. I worked with a number of Palestinian Israelis, whom the Israeli government like to call “Arab-Israelis”. So, for example, Saleh Bakri, my lead actor, is a Palestinian who resides in Haifa and holds an Israeli passport. Or Nael Kanj, the production designer, from Nazareth and a few others. I also had a team of Palestinians from the West Bank.

What made you choose to cast Saleh Bakri?

Saleh is a brilliant actor. I had seen him in a number of other films and when I wrote the initial story, The Present, he was the actor that kept coming into my mind who I felt could and should play the role of Yusef. It's funny, because I did not know him personally, but the world conspired. When I started to co-write the actual script, a bit later with Hind Shoufani, and we discussed who I envisaged for the role, she in fact did happen to know him. So, the introduction was made. Saleh is a sensitive soul with an incredible talent who immediately understood the character (could even relate, of course, as a Palestinian himself), and appreciated the simplicity of the story. I had no doubt he could embody Yusef and I needed someone who could really dig deep into what it means to be a man like Yusef, living his frustrations and humiliations every day.

What do you hope the audience will take home from the film?

Of course, I want the film to do what all good films should do – give the audience an emotional experience. When we feel emotion, we feel alive. But I also want them to contemplate the film, even after they go home. To feel and wonder what such a life means for people like Yusef. This is a fiction film about an absurd situation which is sadly a current reality in Palestine, so I want the film to do what Alejandro Inarritu meant when he said “Cinema must try to raise the global social conscience.”

Would you say that the short film format has given you any particular freedom?

Initially, yes, in the sense that you can make more, faster and at a lower cost than the long form, and as mentioned, I had no background in film at all, so the stakes were not as high if I aimed for feature length prematurely. But then almost all filmmakers start off in the short format I guess for the same reasons. It has also afforded me the freedom and flexibility to try and find my identity as a filmmaker and as a Palestinian – if you agree, as I do, with what an art critic said in an article I read recently, that “you cannot make art without a sense of identity, yet it is identity you seek in making art”. But recently, I have naturally started to write and think in the long form feature length, even potential series format, which I didn't initially plan or think I would do. I will have to go where my creativity takes me.

Updates on the film and Farah's work are available on her website.

Gaza, dir: Gary Keane & Andrew McConnell

Tommy Hodgson — 2020-01-09T21:24:59Z

Gaza never falters in its intimate portrayal of humans whose lives have been profoundly affected by political decisions made without their consent or interests at heart. The footage is unmanufactured; it is not a passive news report about the body count of an active war zone but a real character study of personal and societal perseverance through the most devastating circumstances. It is both destruction and happiness; pain and dancing; and only political insofar as it spells out that sympathy is not enough consolation for an idea of a free and just Gaza.

After the film screening at Soho's Curzon, the co-director Andrew McConnell spoke of how he was welcomed overwhelmingly into the local community; approaching Gaza as an outsider actually created the impetus for the most intimate and heart-wrenching moments of the film. In accessing these stories, building relationships and foundations, the directors were able to breach the only realistic difference between Gaza as a ‘big open air prison' and an actual prison. Lack of drinkable water, electricity shortages and barriers to travel render this obviously stunning and culturally rich land a zone of restrictions. It is thus sadly relevant that the directors use imagery of the sea, which is culturally important to the Gazan psyche and way of life but ultimately serves as a false symbol of freedom and escape. This gives the undeniably beautiful shots of Gazans socialising by the beach, silhouetted against the backdrop of sunsets over a long flat sea, a bittersweet feeling.

[1]

Everything in Gaza is told through the eyes of its subjects; fishermen, taxi drivers, tailors and lifeguards create the actual scope of Gazan life, the directors are just a conduit. It is apparent, and indeed painfully so, that Gazans are trying to forge their own expression out of a dire situation, evident through profiles of a disabled Palestinian rapper and a family of aspiring models creating their own catwalk at home. For such dreams to flourish even in a limited sense, in a land under massive blockade and siege, truly speaks to the spirit that the directors gleaned in their exploration of Gaza. This holds even more weight given that the directors' original film idea was just to document the surprisingly popular pastime of surfing in Gaza. Both the original niche approach and the broader final project are powerful in that they deflate the conflict narrative surrounding merely the mention of the word ‘Gaza'.

The biggest revelation of the film, an underlying gut punch lurking throughout, comes as many Gazans, often young unemployed men, approach the Israeli border fence – a symbol of oppression and denial of a future. The harrowing scenes depict the futility of Gazans throwing rocks up against a much more powerful and ruthless enemy, but doing so out of frustration and lack of opportunities; as an outlet not as a solution. Seeing sieges in real time, concerning people and families the film has already fleshed out, brings home the devastation and misery of the cycle of conflict on the ground in this region. It is a reminder of the reality of Gazans, that the humour, the singing and the brotherhood of its people happen not just in spite of the terror and violence but because of it; this is the crux of solidarity and resistance.

[1] all photos from gazadocumentary.com

Our pick of Arab docs 1

Abla Kandalaft — 2019-09-23T14:47:31Z

We've been watching recently - and not quite yet - released documentaries by Arab filmmakers. We'll be posting our picks and where to find them in the next few days and weeks, starting with the below.

Counting Tiles, dir. Cynthia Choucair

Lebanese filmmaker Cynthia Choucair travels to the Greek island of Lesvos with her sister, a member of Clowns Without Borders, volunteers who seek to bring a bit of laughter and levity to the refugees that have ended up there. Once they arrive on the island, they are met with closed gates and piles of life jackets, and the new restrictions and policies introduced by the EU. As they attempt to negotiate the red-tape separating them from the refugees they try to reach, the two sisters reflect on their own history of displacement following the war in Lebanon. Moving, with some beautiful contemplative sequences that allow us as viewers the same space to reflect on the plight of people forced to flee their homes.

State of Siege, dir. Wassim Safadi

This doc is freely available on YouTube until the end of October 2019, so make sure you catch it in time.

Safadi's short doc gives us a personal account of an oft-ignored community: the Syrians living in the occupied Golan Heights, currently caught between instability in Syria, their own various allegiances and the perils of Israeli occupation. The slightly lo-fi aspects of the production are overshadowed by the unprompted, raw, intimate conversations and interjections of the residents interviewed by Safadi, allowing us a privileged and powerful glimpse into the mundane reality of their everyday existence.

Short of the Week: 6 Miles Out - One Day in the Life of Gaza Fishermen

morris — 2018-12-23T12:56:51Z

This week's film was one of the highlights of the 2018 edition of the Bristol Palestine Film Festival. 6 Miles Out is a short doc offering an intimate and authentic encounter with a group of fishermen in Gaza as they set out at dawn and follows them throughout the day and night, when they unavoidably become the target of Israeli military ships, hurling threats and warning shots, pushing them back towards the coast and away from the more plentiful supply of fish. The boats are restricted to 6 miles off the coast, as the title suggests, which often doesn't even allow the fishermen to cover the cost of fuel.

The film was made by the charity We Are No Numbers, which brought together artists and activists that help portray the daily lives of Palestinians.

Naila and the Uprising @DocHouse

Abena Clarke — 2018-08-24T14:03:51Z

Naila and the Uprising was a DocHouse screening.

It's rare that a film makes me so angry that I can't seem to describe it without a rant summarising it as ‘o the injustice!' but that really was the effect of Julia Bacha's film. Opening scene: mum, grown-up son, living room, baby pictures, embarrassment. This is familiar. That's how a lot of Naila's story feels: familiar. She's just a regular woman, a passionate proactive patriot, mother, friend, wife, sister. She's a women's libber (this is the 80s), an outspoken feminist, who believes that she as a woman cannot be free, while her country is under occupation. And thus the story begins.
30 years ago, Naila was a young woman, a grassroots activist, wife and mother, who worked within the women-led organisations which imagined, coordinated and led the nonviolent resistance of the first intifada. Their work brought the Israeli government to the negotiating table with representatives of the the Palestinian people for the first time. As much of the male leadership had been effectively silenced, via exile and imprisonment - like Naila's own husband - many women understood that their community desperately needed their involvement in order to win their freedom struggle. Or as Naila put it 'the occupation will not end if we stay home'.

Bacha employs news footage from the time from a range of European countries, as well as from Australia and the US, cartoon sequences stylistically reminiscent of Persepolis' simple but exquisite artistry, and of course, the voices and stories of the activist women of Palestine to craft this incredible tale. Her film's particular power, perhaps, is successfully reminding us of a different, more hopeful time. For the Palestinian people, and for the world. Naila's Israeli collaborators tell the story of sympathetic Israeli women's movements who stood in solidarity with these Palestinian women organising for liberty, of Israeli journalists with whom Naila also worked with, who tirelessly informed the Israeli people of the injustices perpetuated in their name. A time when the US president - a republican at that - was lauded for a particularly progressive, productive stance on Palestine.

My fury stemmed from learning about the Accords. Ultimately, we discover, the fruit of the women's successful organising was eaten by men. Men - Norwegian and Palestinian - who could not imagine a triumphant, female-led political intervention with such global ramifications, secretly hijacked the negotiations and absolutely sidelined Palestine's women leaders. How the women reacted was interesting. But the impact on the peace process was catastrophic.
If you remember watching male freedom fighters dressing up as women in the Battle of Algiers, you should watch Naila and the Uprising, where women pose as concerned neighbours and drop resistance flyers into food parcels. Naila was and is an organiser, but she was not the leadership, who are also represented in the film. She was one of many thousands of women based within and organising resistance in communities living through occupation. Naila, like so many others, engaged in the creation of parallel institutions, boycotts, cooperative farms, non-violent nation-building work whose work has largely been forgotten in the story of the peace process.
Naila and the Uprising is must-see viewing for anyone who likes a great story told brilliantly. And strong women everywhere.