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‘Divine
Intervention’ explores the struggle of daily life in Palestine. |
Life
under Israeli occupation is no life at all, rather a series of absurd,
over-the-top, oddly-strung-together vignettes of reality and fantasy as seen in
Palestinian director Elia Suleiman’s new film, Divine Intervention,
which is making the rounds at various film festivals in the United States.
Though
quite imaginative in scope, the film (which took the Jury Prize at the 2002
Cannes International Film Festival) turns on itself in striving to be ultimately
skillful. Suleiman plays all the cinematic tricks of cleverness, creating a
series of character sketches and mini-movie moments rather than a cohesive
story. It’s a buffet of intriguing scenes rather than a complete, satisfying
dinner. But that seems to be his goal all along.
There
is no plot, really. The only story seems to be of E.S. (played by Suleiman
himself), a silent Palestinian who eloquently carries on a subtle romance with
“The Woman”, (a visually stunning Manar Khader). The two never speak and
only can meet at the Al-Ram checkpoint between Jerusalem and Ramallah where they
sit in the car and caress each other’s hand while mutely watching the
absurdity of Israeli soldiers demeaning those trying to cross the checkpoint.
Khader
is the real fire of the movie. She is the proverbial lady in red who can
literally topple a checkpoint as she deliberately struts by, daring the soldiers
to stop her. In probably the most visceral and memorable scene of the film,
Khader emerges from behind a life-size mockup of herself swathed in a
Palestinian checkered scarf. As six Israeli gunmen try to take her down, she
dodges and deflects bullets with moves a la The Matrix. Ultimately she
decimates the group as well as a helicopter behind her.
Such
scenes are scattered throughout the film. They’re disturbing, but thrilling.
There’s the opening sequence of a Santa running up hill, dropping presents as
four boys chase him. He seems to escape only to end up with a knife in the
chest. Then there’s the seemingly benign elderly Palestinian man driving his
car, nodding to his neighbors while muttering obscenities about them under his
breath.
What
do these scenes mean? What do they have to do with each other? The point seems
to be that when you’re under constant occupation, the smallest moments of
defiance (or flights of fantasy) keeps you going – as when E.S. arrives at a
stoplight and turns to see an Israeli Jew in the car next to him. So he blasts
an Arab pop song (Natacha Atlas’ “I Put a Spell on You”), dons his
sunglasses and stares him down. Or earlier in the film when he releases a red
balloon with Yasser Arafat’s visage on it across the Al-Ram checkpoint. Small
things.
But
this message is often lost among the loosely strung scenes and characters. The
minimalist dialogue is the biggest crutch – the first half an hour has so
little conversation that the viewer is virtually lost in crazy characters. This,
coupled with some unnecessary obscenities, makes for a difficult viewing
experience.
Perhaps
Suleiman means to set up a provocative, dead-on vision of life under Israeli
occupation through the intertwining sequence of events, people and punch lines.
But it’s hard to follow. It’s easier to be lost and confused, with brief
flashes of “aha!” understanding and humor.
For
Muslims there’s little to gain from the film other than a wry appreciation for
what Palestinians endure on a daily basis. Violence is such a part of the daily
routine that a major reaction is impossible to expect. Again, it’s the small
things that matter. As A.O. Scott writes in the New York Times, “Divine
Intervention can make you laugh at the current situation in the Middle East
without feeling much better about it.”
But
is that what we really need? Maybe. For the film ultimately seems to ask: If we
can’t retain our humor, then how can we keep our strength to keep living, to
keep resisting?
