September 28, 2001
Vancouver International Film Festival
Traditions of love and hatred
Several festival films look at politics and family in the Middle
East.
The 20th Vancouver International Film Festival, which runs Sept.
27 to Oct. 12 under the slogan "Same planet, different worlds,"
will offer 430 screenings of 320 films from more than 50 countries.
Among them are several films that may be of interest to the Jewish
community.
Through the eyes of children
Some people believe that if Arabs and Jews merely met each other,
perhaps became friends, then the whole situation in the Middle East
would be alleviated. This might be the case, but it didn't work
for seven youngsters who were brought together for the film
Promises.
Filmmaker B.Z. Goldberg interviews the young people about their
views of each other and their own places in the ancient land. When
he finally brings them all together - Jews and Arabs - the youth
come to see each other as human, at least, and seem to have a fine
time together. However, their fundamentally opposite views are irreconciled.
Goldberg introduces the children with a brief history - some have
watched friends or relatives die amid terrorism or soldiers' fire.
Each side uses a child's logic to "prove" their argument.
At various points, an Arab child uses the Koran to prove his people's
right to all of Jerusalem. In one instance, a Jewish boy finds a
passage in the Torah for the same type of claim.
"God promised us the land of Israel," says young Moishe.
"The Arabs came and took it."
A young Arab says, "It's not for Israel. It's for Arabs. I
was born and raised here."
On a rare visit to the Western Wall, a secular Jewish boy offers
what might be the wisest words of the documentary.
"There was a war and we conquered it," he says. "I
don't know what to do now."
He also draws attention to the schisms within Judaism, when he
acknowledges his terror at being around the black-hatted and bearded
Charedim at the Wall.
"I was scared to death," he says of his visit. "I'd
rather visit an Arab village than be here with all these religious
people."
An odd interaction occurs when an Arab child walks into the camera's
eye while Goldberg is interviewing a Jewish boy. The two children
size each other up, but are not antagonistic. Instead, they begin
a burping contest as the film rolls.
A Jewish child who lives in the West Bank settlement of Beit-El
escorts the filmmaker around his village, pointing out the shooting
range that is in the general vicinity of an Arab village on the
other side of the barbed wire.
"And if the soldiers aim poorly, it's OK because they might
shoot an Arab," he says, laughing.
The feeling is mutual. An Arab kid says he supports Hamas and Hezbollah.
"They kill women and children, but they do it for their country,"
he says. "The more Jews we kill, the fewer there will be, until
they're almost gone."
When the Jews and Arabs get together, they are civil. But their
words are not accommodating.
"You must return what you have taken away from me," says
one Arab. "The land must be returned. You can stay here, but
as a guest."
Another Arab notes the ambivalence in the room.
"I feel torn inside," he says. "Part of me wants
to connect with you and part doesn't."
- Pat Johnson
Love versus family duty
In Shakespeare's Midsummer Night's Dream, "the course
of true love never did run smooth." In Late Marriage,
an Israeli-French collaboration in this year's Vancouver International
Film Festival, the course of true love is not only bumpy, but it
runs into a brick wall.
The movie's protagonist is Zaza, a 31-year-old philosophy PhD candidate
who is good-looking and intelligent. He's in love with Judith, 34,
who is a divorcée and the mother of a six-year-old girl.
All would be fine, except that his family tradition dictates that
Zaza must marry someone younger than him from a good family, and
preferably someone who is beautiful and rich. Judith definitely
does not fall into this category.
Initially, Zaza placates his parents, visiting one potential bride
after another. Late Marriage director Dover Kosashvili gives
viewers a seat around the coffee table of one of these awkward interviews.
Zaza sits on the couch and fidgets as he is asked by possible in-laws
what he does: Still a student at 31? A doctor? What more could we
ask for? Oh, an intellectual - that's useful too.
Eventually, the inevitable confrontation happens and it is explosive.
Zaza's parents, uncles and aunts, sister and grandmother barge into
Judith's apartment en masse. They go through her groceries, they
rip up photos of Judith and Zaza together, they threaten her life.
Zaza can no longer postpone his decision. He must choose between
the woman he loves and what his family holds dear. His choice is
a heart wrenching one for everyone - for him, his parents and his
girlfriend.
Late Marriage contains nudity and explicit language.
- Cynthia Ramsay
Looking in from outside
Of all the documentaries that have been produced on an aspect of
the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, The Inner Tour may be the
most benign.
An Israel/Palestine production, director Ra'anan Alexandrowicz's
film follows a busload of 19 Arab tourists who visit Israel for
three days. The group gathers in Ramallah just a few months before
the latest violence started a year ago. They are residents of Gaza
and the West Bank, a couple from Jordan and several from various
refugee camps in the territories.
For the most part, their experiences on the tour are sentimental,
but not politically charged.
"At 27, I've never seen the sea," says one member of
the tour, gazing out at the Mediterranean.
A young man explains to some Italian tourists how his father died
in the fighting between Israel and Lebanon. His mother is in Lebanon
now, but he can't visit her because he doesn't have a Lebanese passport.
When the tour bus stops near the border with Lebanon, there is a
tearful reunion as the son and his mother wave to each other across
two rows of barbed-wire fencing about 20 feet apart. They throw
packages of photos to each other before the bus has to leave again.
In between these emotional moments, there are fairly quiet discussions
about the conflict between Israel and the Palestinians. The tour
guide lists names of Arab villages that used to exist on the route
the bus is following. One elderly man gets a chance to return to
his father's gravesite where his family used to live just outside
Tel-Aviv. Nothing is left in the area but some rubble.
As inoffensive as much as the film is, there are some scenes that
provide food for thought. Visiting a museum on Kibbutz Hanita in
northern Israel, the tour members become upset by some of the photos
they see of the kibbutz's early beginnings in the 1930s.
"They show Arabs as criminals, as army members, as something
to protect yourself against," says one tourist.
In another scene in Tel-Aviv, one tourist states, "It's paradise."
"Ninety per cent of what they have here, we never get to see,"
says another.
Overall, the film is fairly slow, with many long shots of the bus
travelling on the highway, closeups of the tourists and images of
the scenery. But there are enough moments of insight into the lives
of the passengers to make the film engaging, at least for those
interested in a view from the outside looking in.
- Baila Lazarus
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