Halifax Friends of Palestine are putting on a Palestinian Film Festival in venues around Calderdale in West Yorkshire this month (one in November). There will be five screenings in different parts of the district, some in cinemas (in Hebden Bridge and Halifax) and others in community venues in Todmorden, Halifax and Sowerby Bridge. Looks like a great initiative.
The five screenings are:
Flying Paper (2013)
12 October, Hollins Mill, Sowerby Bridge
Speed Sisters (Palestine-Canada 2015)
18 October, Hebden Bridge Picture House
Villa Touma (2014)
20 October, Fielden Centre Todmorden
3000 Nights (2015)
22 October, Square Chapel Halifax
The Idol (2015)
11 November, Pellon Community Centre, Halifax
Download the flyer here (click on the image):
Identity is everything in Israel and Palestine – nationality, religion, ethnicity, gender, sexual orientation, tradition and modernity all demand that individuals must make decisions and then expect their choices to be defining. I’ve got in trouble before for describing films and characters from the region in ways that people find objectionable, so I’m treading carefully. In Between is officially an Israeli film (receiving public funds, eligible for awards etc.). The writer-director Maysaloun Hamoud was born to Palestinian parents living in Budapest where she grew up before going to university in Jerusalem and then film school in Tel Aviv. The three young women at the centre of her film are variously described as ‘Palestinians’ and ‘Israeli Palestinians’ in interviews, reviews and promotion materials for the film. Asked about her influences, Hamoud plays the game citing Guy Ritchie and Hollywood B movies in one interview and Ken Loach and Egyptian cinema in another. She sees herself as challenging ideas about Arab cinema. But most tellingly she identifies with Ajami (Israel-Germany 2009) the film made by an Arab-Jew pairing about crime on the streets of Jaffa (the ancient Arab port city, now engulfed by Tel Aviv) where Hamoud now lives. “I was criticised for taking Israeli government funding to make [In Between]. But that money is ours, we should take more. We don’t take what we deserve.” This is what she told the Guardian last week in London where she has been creating a stir promoting the film. It has all paid off, she says, because young people are contacting her about the film.
As the title implies (I think its Arabic title means something like ‘Land and Sea’), this film is about identities ‘caught between’. The three central characters are young women. Leila (Mouna Hawa) is a secular Muslim with a job as a lawyer dealing with rights claims. Salma (Sana Jammelieh) is a Christian Arab whose dream is to be a DJ and who survives by working in kitchens and bars and Noor (Shaden Kanboura) is a religious Muslim from a conservative village who is studying computer science at university. It is the arrival of Noor as a flatmate, arranged through a family friend, that kicks off the narrative. How will she get on with these two ‘modern’ women who smoke, drink, take drugs and have affairs? More to the point, perhaps, how will Noor’s fiancé Wissam deal with the new situation? It’s not difficult to guess, but this isn’t really a plot-driven narrative. More important is to enjoy the interrelationships between the women and to see how they develop a response to their different situations. The three actors (two with little or no experience) are totally convincing in their roles. For a first feature this is a staggering achievement for Maysaloun Hamoud and her crew.
The film succeeds so well because Hamoud has managed to judge just how much she has to show to represent the challenge to each of the women. Leila thinks she has found a soulmate and Salma starts a lesbian affair with a trainee doctor. Both flatmates have yet to see how their new relationships will be judged by family members. Restraint in this case works better than excess and the open ending of the film means we leave the screening thinking about what these women have achieved, but also aware of what else they might face. Add to this the subtle way in which each of the central characters (who are each in some way representative of different identities) is ‘humanised’ and allowed to become rounded and we can recognise Hamoud’s skill. She also gives us one shocking scene, handled with sensitivity, that highlights the whole struggle.
The film is low budget but still gets across the vitality of Tel Aviv and this is partly through the use of music, another of Hamoud’s passions. She tells us that she has tried to convey the type of underground music scene that is enjoyed by many of the different groups in Israel and Palestine.
In Between has won several awards at international film festivals and it is an important as well as enjoyable film. There is an excellent UK website for the film presented by distributor Peccadillo Pictures, including videos, music and information about where it is playing. In the North of England you can catch it in Leeds, Manchester and Newcastle this week. I hope you can find it.
Clash was in the Official Competition at LFF and the good news is that it has been picked up for UK distribution by Arrow Films. If it comes your way, don’t miss it. Director Mohamed Diab is a scriptwriter whose first feature as a director was 678 in 2010. That film caused quite a storm in Egypt, dealing with the whole issue of sexual abuse of passengers on public transport (the title refers to a bus route). Three different women decide that they can no longer put up with the groping and touching they experience daily. Diab takes the brave approach of aiming for a popular audience by casting well-known Egyptian performers and including comedy and action in his dramas. I’d only seen extracts from 678 (which wasn’t released in the UK to my knowledge) so I was looking forward to Clash. I wasn’t disappointed.
The film begins with titles that quickly set the scene in Cairo following the ‘Arab Spring’ moment, the downfall of President Hosni Mubarak, the election of the Muslim Brotherhood candidate Mohamed Morsi and his subsequent fall when the Army take over. Now it is 2013 and we are inside a police truck – what in the UK would be a ‘Black Maria’ and in the US a ‘paddy wagon’. In this case the wagon is a steel box with high barred windows that is mounted on a standard truck chassis. This ‘cell on wheels’ has no facilities and is likely to get extremely uncomfortable in Cairo during the heat of the day. It’s important to sketch out these details since the whole film narrative is seen from within this cell. First we see two journalist thrown into the cell in the midst of a police action to clear crowds from the street. Soon the truck is attacked by demonstrators who believe the journalists are Muslim Brotherhood supporters and several of these protestors are then bundled into the cell. The truck moves on and is in turn caught up with Brotherhood supporters, some of whom are arrested and join the occupants of the cell. At this point we realise that Diab (or rather his brother, who had the original idea) has latched on to the idea of exploring a complex situation via a drama involving people of different backgrounds trapped in a confined space. Here he has not just pro and anti-Muslim Brotherhood supporters but also a wide range of other ‘differences’ to explore such as old and young, men and women, affluent and poor, Christians and Muslims. One of the journalists has dual Egyptian-American nationality. A police officer is also forced into the cell. Within the separate groups there are individual conflicts.
The power of the film lies in the two types of constraint. The camera can only look out of the windows – or occasionally out through the back door. One reviewer likens the film to Lebanon (Israel 2009) in which we see action through the viewfinder of a tank. There are certainly similarities, but the constraint of the trapped mix of people is just as important – as in films like Hitchcock’s Lifeboat (US 1944). I was reminded of The Waiting List (Cuba 2000) in which a group of people are marooned in a country bus station, unable to get home or to Havana. They represent a society looking for a way forward. Clash is a similar film in which the group acts as a metaphor for Egyptian society – fragmented, antagonistic towards each other – but also potentially capable of finding their humanity and the things they have in common.
At just under 100 minutes, Clash is a riveting watch. The script is inventive and no avenue is unexplored in ratcheting up the tension and finding new ways to discomfort the unfortunate people trapped inside the truck. Once again, Diab uses faces well-known to Egyptian audiences, led by Nelly Karim (also a lead in 678). He manages to juggle the use of character types and genre conventions and the portrayal of ’rounded characters’ more associated with social realist dramas. There are comic vignettes and personal tragedies. Diab treads carefully in not obviously supporting one group over another. He has been and will be criticised inside Egypt, but he manages to place himself in between the escapism of mainstream popular cinema and the kind of art cinema that struggles to find an audience. I hope that the film finds audiences around the Arab world as well as in the international marketplace.
In this interview, Mohamed Diab talks about his film in English (but the interview questions are in French):
The first of two Egyptian films in my selection, In the Last Days of the City proved to be fascinating – perhaps not the easiest start to my festival viewing but certainly a film I’ve thought about a lot since. Produced, written and directed by Tamer El Said, it’s an independent film that has taken several years to make and now emerges as an almost documentary record of a particular district of Cairo before the Arab Spring of 2011. In the Q&A after the screening, the director and his lead actor Khalid Abdalla referred to a film that was “made with foresight” and “edited in hindsight” – preparations began in 2009 with shooting spread over 30 months and a long period of editing.
Khalid (the actor uses his own name) is a thirty-something filmmaker in Cairo attempting to complete a film. It wasn’t clear to me exactly what kind of film it is intended to be, but it includes footage of people he knows and it is inspired by material sent to him by filmmaker friends who are in Baghdad, Berlin and Beirut. At one point he meets these friends in Cairo. At other times he finds himself looking around the city and coming across isolated incidents – police beating demonstrators, a man assaulting a woman. At these moments we feel a sense of unease at Khalid’s seeming voyeurism.
The film draws on the repertoire of films about filmmaking. Khalid has several problems. He falls out with the editor who is trying to complete post production in his flat. Khalid is also being forced out of the flat and must pack his books and household goods and search for a new place to live, not helped by a ‘useless’ estate agent. One of his subjects for his film is his ex-girlfriend who seems increasingly reluctant to help him out. Khalid’s mother is in hospital and he tries to see her on a regular basis.
The filmmaking process for Tamer El Said began with the intent to create a fiction and then slid into reality. The director used his own flat as one of the film’s locations and did then find himself forced to move. The scenes on the street did pick up the tension in Cairo before 2011. The status of the film now before us is uncertain, fiction bleeds into reality and vice versa. What is most striking are the formal properties of the filmic image. So, with an image on the computer screen, the camera zooms in and we are taken into the ‘fictional world’ on screen – but this is revealed to be the ‘real world’ of Khalid’s friends. The same can happen in reverse of course. ‘What is real?’ is an age-old question in cinema. Here though it takes on a new urgency as major changes are taking place in Egyptian society. Two observations are important. First, we are seeing only a small part of the city from a middle-class perspective (i.e. not necessarily wealthy but educated/artistic/cultured) and secondly the beautifully composed images by Bassem Fayad seem to convey the sadness of a city approaching turmoil implied by the title. This is certainly a festival film that will be a difficult sell for cinema distribution. It’s important though that this kind of Egyptian independent film gets seen internationally and broadens the perspective offered by different forms of Egyptian popular cinema.
This was an entertaining way to finish my visit to LFF 2015. That is if some perfunctory murders can be counted as entertainment. But in the context of the rest of the film perhaps they can. Mir-Jean Bou Chaaya is a locally-trained Lebanese filmmaker who seems to have taken inspiration from a story about the Lebanese film industry in the 1950s. ‘Very Big Shot’ refers, I think, to the lead character Ziad (Alain Saadeh) a local Beirut criminal whose career up to now has involved a small scale drugs business run out of a pizzeria alongside acting as courier for a bigger operation. Ziad has plans to set up his own restaurant with his second brother Jad. Youngest brother Joe (the pizza chef) is against this idea if it means selling the family house. Here’s a family social issue that might be the background to a typical crime film – especially since we know that Zaid and Jad have already attempted to involve Joe in their criminal activities.
The film takes off in another direction when Ziad needs to ship a large consignment of drugs abroad. Visiting a customer who isn’t paying his drugs tab, a nerdy aspiring filmmaker, Ziad watches a documentary featuring an interview with veteran Lebanese film director Georges Nasr (the director’s film school mentor) in which he refers to an Italian film production in Lebanon that included drugs smuggled out in sealed cans of undeveloped film stock. To do this involves a customs certificate awarded to genuine film producers. Ziad decides to be come a real film producer and sets up a shoot for the hapless wannabe director. The filming process pushes the film into a comedy of ineptitude and then into a satire on media and celebrity. Ziad moves quickly to become director as well as producer and when his ideas create incidents on the street he is interviewed on local television, finally emerging as an astute political operator.
The central plot idea is, I now realise, similar to Argo (US 2012), bit this never occurred to me as I watched the film, perhaps because I found it funnier and more interesting than Argo. Or perhaps it was just more ‘exotic’ as a Lebanese film using popular genre elements? There are some gentle digs about the state of the Lebanese film industry as well as some sharp social commentary and the film ends in an open manner which hints at a satire about politics and the media in the context of organised criminal activities. Mir-Jean Bou Chaaya was present for a Q & A and his film was warmly received at the Vue West End. This revealed that both the director and his co-writer and lead Alain Saadeh come from families with several brothers so they felt comfortable creating the relationships in the film. The director’s brothers were the producers of the film. The very impressive Saadeh trained as a method actor and the director encouraged this by suggesting that the actors’ interpretations would lead the filming process. The final question asked whether the film had a chance of being shown in other ‘Arab speaking’ (sic) countries and the answer got a round of laughter when the director suggested that it would depend on whether governments would accept the film’s open ending (i.e. the criminal who becomes a politician). Several reviewers have suggested that local audiences would actually get a lot more from the film but I think it could also work well in international distribution.
I’ve recently posted two reviews on The Global Film Book Blog of films that are officially on release in the UK but which are very difficult to find. Theeb (Jordan/Qatar/UAE/UK 2014) is one of my films of the year but on 30th August, after three weeks on release, it had taken only £35,000 and was playing on just 5 screens.
The Forgotten Kingdom (Lesotho/South Africa/US 2013) opened on just one screen on 21st August, taking a respectable £2,137. Those are the BFI’s figures. The film’s own website suggests a couple more venues, but even so this film, which I found enjoyable and worthwhile and informative about a country I knew very little about, is unlikely to play more than a few dates a week over the next few months.
I don’t blame the distributors, New Wave and Munro Film, but rather the exhibitors and the lack of ambition to bring films like these to audiences. I can’t blame audiences if the films are not there to watch. Here in the North of England we are lucky that a handful of independent cinemas such as HOME in Manchester, Showroom in Sheffield, the Hyde Park in Leeds and Hebden Bridge Picturehouse are willing to screen titles like these. I’m also pleased to see The Station in Richmond, North Yorkshire on the list for The Forgotten Kingdom. But it’s depressing to see that there are more dates for Ireland (North and South) than there are for England and Scotland.
Please have a look at the reviews and see if they sound interesting to you. Then look out and see if they are showing near you (why not ask your local cinema why they aren’t on offer?). No doubt they will appear on DVD soon. I hope to see them booked in for community cinema showings in West Yorkshire in the Autumn.