A film about Palestinian suicide bombings is causing controversy, and gaining much accolade, ahead of the Oscars in March, reports Erica Silverman Where in the world exactly is the "Palestinian Authority?" Somewhere in the Middle East? In Israel? Or perhaps, in Palestine? All questions Americans may be asking as they settle down on their couches to watch the Academy Awards 5 March. Al-Janna Al-Aan (Paradise Now) a film from the West Bank portraying two suicide bombers from Nablus, is one of five movies nominated for best foreign language film. Directed by Palestinian Hany Abu Assad, best known for Rana's Wedding, Paradise Now tells the story of Khaled and Said, played by Ali Suleiman and Kais Nashef, childhood friends who have volunteered to conduct a double suicide bombing in Tel Aviv. The film provides an insight into the brutal measures of military occupation that would lead young men to believe life has become so bitter that death is a better option, yet declines to excuse the most gruesomely effective weapon used against Israeli civilians during the Intifada. Set over a period of 48 hours, the story takes you through the entire process of the bombing, marking a carefully orchestrated course set to panic and fear, while satisfying curiosity. To date, Oscars organisers have not officially decided how to describe the film's country of origin, initially nominated as a film from the "Palestinian Authority", although the academy's official website attributes it to "Palestine". John Pavlik, a spokesman for the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences stated that the issue is still under consideration, and denied that the Israeli government or American Jewish groups had been pressuring academy officials to designate the film's origin as the "Palestinian Authority". An Israeli diplomat told Reuters in Jerusalem that Israel and US-based Jewish organisations were lobbying the Academy not to denote the film the national identity of "Palestine", since there is no Palestinian state. Co-producer Amir Harel, a Jewish Israeli from Lama Productions in Tel Aviv, told Al-Ahram Weekly that the labels are "artificial" and do not carry any real political message. Augustus Film Production from the Netherlands, along with a Lumen Films from France and Razor Film from Germany, contributed to the production. The film humanises suicide bombers Khaled and Said by placing their decisions in the context of the havoc occupation has imposed upon Palestinian society, and by portraying the individual reasoning behind their choices. The story illustrates the ritualistic process, as the two men are hand scrubbed, shaven, and then dressed in fine suits in preparation for the bombing, suggestive of Islamic burial rituals. Included is a touch of dark humour when at the end of his videotaped good-bye statement Khaled must start again since the camera was not recording. The two men scramble through Israeli barbed wire, according to the factional leader's plan, to meet the "well paid" Israeli couple on the other side that will deliver them to Tel Aviv. Research for the script, written by Harel and co- producer Bero Beyer, was based on published Israeli forces interrogations of bombers who were caught, and on interviews with Palestinian factional leadership familiar with the phenomenon. Nablus' Old City has all the trappings of a Hollywood movie set with its dark, secret passageways, ancient history, and crumbling infrastructure from relentless Israeli bombings; in real life it is the place where those who are "wanted" hide. Even scenes of a bomb-maker with mechanical hands wiring the explosive belts is reminiscent of wanted Al-Aqsa Martyrs' Brigades leader Fadi Qafishi from Nablus, who is missing one hand and two fingers from the other. In the film's narrative, Said left the West Bank only once when he was six for knee surgery; not unrealistic since Nablus is effectively sealed shut. "I have been murdered, and I am a murderer," announces Said, indicating that death has already become him. As the factional leader in charge of the operation briefs the bombers, he explains to the men not to be afraid of the Israeli soldiers for they are now, in a shift of power relations, the ones afraid of death. Said's father is deemed "collaborator" with the Israeli army, while Khaled's father was offered, by Israeli soldiers, a choice of which leg he would keep, offering a graphic look at the paranoia and humiliation that has enclosed life under occupation in Nablus. Paradise Now captures the apprehension of a ticking bomb, yet denies relief of the pressure. The audience expects an explosion, but according to Harel, "everyone is fully aware of what happens [after a suicide bombing], and at that point the media covers the story." The film opened at Ramallah's Kasaba Theatre in April, the only commercial movie theatre in the Palestinian territories. In the film, Said explains how the one movie theatre in Nablus was "accidentally" burnt to the ground during a protest against Israeli closures prohibiting Palestinian workers from entering Israel during the second Intifada. Most Palestinians have not seen the film, and many that have claimed it did not provide enough information about the occupation and their suffering, hoping it might deliver their message to audiences abroad. Meanwhile, after several death threats, director Abu Assad and his family have returned to the Netherlands. In the spring of 2004, filming in Nablus was cut short, the remaining scenes were shot in the mainly Arab-Israeli city of Nazareth, after Palestinian factions demanded the crew vacate; this despite the fact that the script was given the late Yasser Arafat's approval, according to second assistant director Enas Muthaffar. The crew had to stop filming almost daily due to Israeli incursions and crossfire, she continued. Released in Tel Aviv in November, the film has elicited passionate reactions from Israeli audiences, even labelling it as "Nazi propaganda". At a sold out screening last week at the West Jerusalem Cinematheque located on the Jewish side of town, a young, liberal Israeli crowd, most of whom have never ventured to Nablus, were visibly moved by the film. The Israeli army prohibits Israeli citizens from entering the West Bank and the Gaza Strip. One young woman who gasped and covered her mouth during several scenes, declined to comment to what she termed "an Arab [news] paper," while Noa, a 31-year-old social worker stated, "I feel ashamed," as she choked back tears. Roi, a 19-year-old "refusnik" (a term used for Israeli citizens who decline to serve, when conscripted, in the army in protest against its policies) stated, "I did not know life in Nablus was so hard... it is a closed city; like a prison, or a cage." The film is also playing in Haifa and Nazareth, and further screenings are scheduled for March. Anas Shallal, an American with Iraqi roots who runs a monthly dialogue on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict called the "peace café" at his upmarket Washington, DC restaurant devoted this Sunday's discussion to the film. "It puts things in the context of the occupation for an American audience," explained Shallal, adding that Americans who participated in the discussion noted the "influence of religion on the choices that people [i.e. Palestinians] make." According to Harel, the film was screened at over 60 theatres in the US after it opened in November, and if it takes home an Oscar it will receive greater attention. Despite controversy surrounding the film, audiences around the world seem to be in accord on its superior quality, particularly the acting performances. It took home multiple awards from the 2005 Berlin Film Festival, and won the Golden Globe award for Best Foreign Language Film in January. No matter on which side of the debate one falls, it is impossible to walk away from the film unaware that Palestinians are living under Israeli military occupation; an occupation destructive to both societies.
