Paradise Now: Voice for the Voiceless

No discussion of contemporary Arab cinema would be complete without analysis of Hany Abu-Assad's Golden Globe-winning and Academy Award-nominated film Paradise Now. This film represents a huge artistic and financial success for Arab cinema, and investigating the reasons why it attained such success reveals many great possibilities for the region. It was popular and grossed fairly well both within the Middle East and abroad, enjoying a long run in American theaters as well. It's success at film festivals and award shows helped put Middle Eastern cinema on the map and solidified it as a viable competitor in the global film market.

All of this success is especially shocking considering the film follows the point of view of two would-be suicide bombers--a perspective not typically shown and one that most audiences are reluctant to empathize with.

A film's protagonist is by nature someone for audiences to empathize and connect with. Without a relatable protagonist, a film cannot go very far. This has created a certain understanding with audiences so that before a film even begins, they know they are about to embark on a journey with the protagonist, and by the end of the film should feel more connected to the character. So for a terrorist to be given such powerful access to people's hearts is a bold and unexpected accomplishment.

But by taking this risk, Abu-Assad humanized a character that is often relegated to being portrayed as a loud, obnoxious, and unintelligent background character whose purpose is only to be "taken down" by the film's hero (Think the Libyan terrorists in Back to the Future, or Salim Abu Aziz in True Lies).

In comparison to past Hollywood terrorists, Khaled (Ali Suliman) and Said (Kais Nashif) in Paradise Now are a huge departure from the hegemonic stereotype. The two are childhood friends who, aside from their radicalism, lead very normal lives--or as normal as they can as Palestinians in the West Bank.

Khaled has trouble holding onto a job, Said fights with his younger brother, and their families are constantly looking for better and cheaper water filters. These are all seemingly trivial and mundane elements of everyday life, but Abu-Assad intentionally highlights these things to humanize his characters before introducing any indication of terrorism.

When the two men are finally approached for their mission, the focus of the film always remains on their personal struggle in going through with the attack. Islam is mentioned in the film as merely a fact of radicalism, not the source or motivation for it. Khaled and Said's family history and personal experiences are the things that have led them to violence.

While Abu-Assad was careful to portray terrorist activities in an accurate fashion, going so far as to have militants supervise a scene where the men record their farewell messages on video, this realism only contextualizes the characters. Paradise Now is a purely character-driven narrative that delves into the psyche of the two terrorists.

What emerges is desperation, confusion, and identity crisis. As Khaled says, they are dead if they stay alive or go through with the attack, indicating a severe desperation. The two seem to have lost a will to live but still have a will to resist, raising an interesting paradox in extremism.

To challenge these beliefs is the character of Suha (Lubna Azabal). She is a Palestinian born in Morrocco, educated in France and now returned to her parent's hometown. It is revealed that she is the daughter of a famous martyr, though she resents the glory her father received and takes a decidedly pro-peace and pro-diplomacy stance. In a memorable conversation with Khaled, Suha claims that there is no paradise; it exists only in their heads. In response, Khaled says that he would rather have paradise in his head than live in hell on Earth.

Abu-Assad uncovers the humanism behind radicalism in Palestine. There is no clear message in Paradise Now and I do not believe Abu-Assad is trying to preach to his audiences. Rather, he is educating them and giving a voice to the voiceless. Abu-Assad has complicated the Western stereotype of the uneducated and unkempt religious fanatic that has allowed Hollywood to vilify Arabs without any remorse.

Paradise Now trailer:


Photo Caption: Said (Kais Nashif) and Khaled (Ali Suliman) wait patiently to carry out a suicide bombing in Paradise Now.

Divine Intervention: Humor as Resistance

This week, I wanted to build from the last post on Chronicle of a Disappearance to discuss another Elia Suleiman film: Divine Intervention.

Released in 2002, Divine Intervention was Palestine's official entry for the Academy Awards. However, the film was rejected because the Oscars only consider films from countries recognized as a nation by the United Nations, which Palestine was not. This would later be contradicted when Hany Abu-Assad's film Paradise Now is nominated for Best Foreign Language Film in 2006.

Much like Chronicle of a Disappearance, Divine Intervention is composed of a series of short vignettes of the everyday life of Palestinians. It is a surreal black comedy that frequently switches between fantasy and reality.

Scenes are as simple as a long take of a man opening his mail in the morning, to an elaborate sequence involving a red balloon with Yasser Arafat's face on it inexplicably inflating and floating across the border.

Suleiman continuously pulls his audience in many directions, and the rapid shifts in tone and style are often humorous, but in a strange and nonsensical way.

In the films climax, a group of Israeli soldiers are doing target practice with cardboard cutouts of Arab woman. After shooting two rounds in a choreographed dance routine, one of the cutouts comes alive. This "Arab ninja" repels bullets, flings stones at rapid speed, and conjures up a shield in the shape of Israel and Palestinian territories, which she uses to destroy a helicopter after taking out the entire group of soldiers.

This represents the daydream quality of Divine Intervention. Suleiman's forays into the surreal are moments of wishful thinking, such as the "Arab ninja" who single handily takes down soldiers without any guns or sophisticated weaponry. Suleiman captures the spirit of Palestinian resistance to occupation through fantasy and surrealism.

This leads to the greater question of cinematic resistance in an occupied region. Suleiman is a Palestinian-Israeli and his films are made in both Israel and Palestine. So would his film be considered part of Israeli cinema or Palestinian cinema? Arguments can be made for both, however, it is generally accepted that Divine Intervention is clearly a work of Palestinian cinema because of its subject-matter, director, and actors (most of whom are non-professional and are friends or family of Suleiman).

For me, what makes Divine Intervention a Palestinian film is its cinematic style. Suleiman combines low-budget techniques, such as long-takes and amateur actors, with special effects to create his absurdist vision of reality. There are infinite interpretations of each of the vignette's possible political or social meaning, but the bottom line is that Suleiman is trying to make us laugh.

In an interview, Suleiman says that his inspiration for his films are small things that make him laugh. He takes these simple things, such as a story of his lead actress (Manal Khader) ignoring the commands of Israeli soldiers and just walking past a checkpoint to get into Jerusalem for a lunch date, and amplifies them to the status of the impossible. She reenacts this story in the film , but Suleiman pushes reality into fantasy, and with a glance from her piercing eyes, the soldiers' watch tower topples as she struts past.

The humor in this scene is understated and dark. There is no dialogue, no jokes, and no physical humor. The humor exists in the very notion of a Palestinian woman developing unseen powers to take down a checkpoint. In a country where being Palestinian is a disadvantage and some would say relegates a person to the status of second-class citizen, Suleiman's retelling of Manal's story is painfully wishful.

But Suleiman does this not just to tease Palestinians or indulge escapism. The comedic tone and surrealism of Divine Intervention make it a more digestible reading of the Palestinian situation in Israel and seemingly less bold or agitating. However, Suleiman never loses sight of the social and political issues that shape Palestinian lifestyles and his stories are rooted in this reality. Thus, it is through humor that Suleiman appeals to human emotion to tell stories and give insight into the Palestinian situation.

Divine Intervention theatrical trailer:

Photo Caption: Director Elia Suleiman holds a red balloon with Yasser Arafat's face in Divine Intervention.