Segell ikhtifa

Do you think it's easy to make a film about palestino-israelian relationships which is not full of violence, hate and bitterness ? Well, Elia Suleiman did it. His camera is his eye, and he is just not commenting what he is seeing (how could one comment the Middle East ?)But his silence is eloquent enough ! Dear Dzong from Washington, we're not more in the Middle Ages, and today, a piece of art doesn't necessary need characters and dialogues to be valuable and beautiful. This is a film full of a kind of a nostalgy, a longing for a lost peace, a walk in a someone's childhood. I found it excellent.

Totally pretentious bunch of crap. Do yourself a favor and avoid it at all cost. Save the money for something more productive (and there are so many things more productive than going to this movie) Also... never believe a word of the stuff they write in film festival catalogues... trust your instincts.

Elia Suleiman returns to his home after a long absence, and gives a portrait of the society he left behind - that of Israeli Palestinians living among Jewish Israelis in Israel. Suleiman's Israeli Palestinians are somewhat miserable, squabbling people who seem to be accustomed or accepting of this fate. His Israelis are racist and his Israeli security forces are dumb and dumber. Jewish Tel Aviv and Palestinians Jericho, visited during his trip, receive so little attention, as to attest to their insignificance. Instead, its all about Jerusalem, where the two societies collide head on. As in Divine Intervention (which came out later) - the Palestinians receive some redemption only in fantasy. The scene where a Palestinian woman manages to rid Jerusalem of Israeli policing forces by use of a walkie talkie was pure brilliance. There are other brilliant scenes in this movie - however, the film does not flow and never really follows a set rhythm. However, it is highly recommended for those scenes that attest to the directors brilliance

First of all, let's get one thing straight....I love foreign films. I even love Iranian films (at least I loved Colours of Paradise). And yet I didn't think I would ever get through this movie and it's not that long. I would have no idea what it was about if I hadn't read the back of the box.

In brief, the "movie" consists of a long series of interminable vignettes, usually with no dialogue, no character development, and no point. Every 20 minutes or so (seems like longer), there is an actual scene with some interesting characters who for the most part are not heard from again. Then there's some nonsense about a Palestinian woman who gets hold of a Police CB. I was looking forward to seeing a Palestinian film to see what a Palestinian director would have to say...Not necessarily about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict (though that would be interesting too...) but about SOMETHING, damn it! This film was a huge disappointment. Don't watch it unless you are expecting a documentary, and a dull one at that.

The title "Chronicle of a Disappearance" has misled you if you expect a tale of mystery or espionage. In fact it's hardly a literal chronicle at all. It's mostly just vivid little fragments from a few people's mundane lives. Only toward the end we see how everything points back to the director and his dilemma as an essentially stateless person. He's a Palestinian Arab back in Jerusalem after twelve years of film study and residence in New York and he's overwhelmed with a sense of irony and powerlessness.

The movie is composed of short snippets, many of them static. The texture and style resemble closely Suleiman's more recent -- and more effective -- effort, "Divine Intervention" (Yadon ilaheyya, 2002). The latter holds together better through using recurrent scenes and themes. And it achieves greater emotional resonance through focusing on a couple whose meetings are blocked by Israeli checkpoints. But this first full-length film has the same wry humor and thoughtful observation that we see in Suleiman's latest work.

This chronicle-less "Chronicle" lacks continuity and is choppy, at times seemingly almost meaningless. Even directors with static camera styles like Ozu, Hou, or Tsai could seem action directors by comparison. Nonetheless those of us who've spent some serious time in the Arab World are delighted by certain moments, such as the Matisse-like image of a fat lady sprawled asleep on a sofa while a particularly soulful rendition of the Moslem call to prayer echoes in the background; or various little ironic, highly Arab gestures like the men ritually lighting each other's cigarettes; a pair who jump out of a car to fight but are stopped by passers-by; women preparing garlic and chattering in a kitchen; the classic image of guys sitting on stiff little straight-backed chairs smoking in front of a shop, and so on.

An ironic update on the culture comes when we see a man (the filmmaker's father) playing backgammon, the essential café game, alone in his room on a computer -- but still puffing on a café-style water pipe. This is mentioned in a review online by an American Jewish writer, half of whose reactions are negative and stereotypical for one of his background. This points up how easy it is to misread such quiet work coming from such a violent region. It's interesting in itself that Suleiman makes avantgardist films from the point of view of a Palestinian resident in Jerusalem. In this theater of engagement and conflict, he is quiet and detached. His work is wryly political, but always deftly ironic, understated, resigned. Those who find clearcut advocacy in Suleiman are probably misreading him and violating the subtlety of his thinking. Since Suleiman's vision is highly personal it inevitably includes his Palestinian identity, but his essential point is the way that identity makes him a non-person. This, then, is the "disappearance" the film chronicles.

Suleiman himself is his own perfect star. With his sad, sensitive face, he's an Arab Buster Keaton. He appears at a gathering where he is introduced and applauded but cannot even begin to describe his film-making because mike feedback and loud cell phone conversations in the audience continually interrupt him. Another time his new flat is invaded by two Israeli soldiers who march around, ignoring him, and then troop out, later including him only near the bottom of their inventory of the flat's contents.

This is a cinema of understatement, so much so that one can easily miss what's there: you're lulled by the static quality and minimalism into missing the ironies. One writer for instance comments that the night boating fishermen "dis" everyone on shore, overlooking he fact that the speaker is trashing everyone but the relative of the man sitting next to him, whom he says are tops--a simple enough joke, and yet one that slipped by.

Perhaps the IMDb Comment by a writer from Tel Aviv is wisest in saying that this "Chronicle" is "highly recommended" because there are moments of "brilliance" but also cautions that "the film does not flow and never really follows a set rhythm." (No doubt other Israelis would also find the IDF buffooneries funny -- this one calls Suleiman's Israeli soldiers "dumb and dumber.") American Jewish viewers, sometimes more extreme, have considered it an affront that a filmmaker who designates himself as Palestinian should set a movie in Jerusalem -- as if by doing so he were claiming Israeli territory. In fact Palestinians do live in Jerusalem, as they long have.

Simplistically pro-Israeli US viewers may have trouble with the fact that Suleiman's "terrorist" is a woman whose strapped-on bomb tripwires set off nothing more than a fireworks display, and whose derailing of IDF patrols by speaking Hebrew with a good accent into a found walkie-talkie is nothing but an absurdist practical joke. (Her good Hebrew doesn't enable her to rent an Israeli-owned flat, even over the phone; once they hear her name, they reject her.) Other tools of terrorism such as hand grenades turn out to be merely cigarette lighters; viewers of "Divine Intervention" will recall the hospital where everyone constantly smokes, even patients on IV's.

Efforts to pigeonhole Suleiman are clumsy. This is, however misleading the title, the chronicle of a disappearance: Suleiman is an invisible man, like Ralph Ellison's African American, who does not exist and has no voice in the place of his birth. Suleiman's world is one in which people are powerless. His chief weapon is wry humor.

The film appeals only to a small audience, and even they have reservations: but from this first effort Suleiman has staked out a special aesthetic, technical, stylistic corner of the cinematic world in as distinctly his own, and for that he deserves full credit.

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Watched on a Fox Lorber-released videotape. I reviewed "Divine Intervention" during its original US theatrical release and you can find my comments on my personal website as well as here.