Showing posts with label Elia Suleiman. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Elia Suleiman. Show all posts

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Elia Suleiman's Divine Intervention

Suleiman's Divine Intervention uses the concept of Foucault's "effective history" to transform the "historian's history" that the nationalistic nation-state uses to assert its validity into a different form of time which challenges it. Suleiman does this using both the narrative and the form of Divine Intervention.

As he explains in the interview, by discovering nonlinear cinema and using this mode of narration to advance his story, he is expressing his resentment to the "usual mode of representation" that he associates with the "falsity in the way that … many films are constructed"[1]. He describes this usual mode of representation in which many films are constructed as "films that on the surface looked harmless, but in fact were proposing a hidden political platform, an equivalency"[2]. In order to avoid conforming to this mode of representation, he breaks down linearity with both his non-linear structure (often different parts of the story are not presented in the chronological order that they would have happened) but also in the melding of reality and dream-imagery. While the story advances, some scenes (like the scene where E.S. arranges post-it notes on his wall with descriptions of the other scenes in the film) imply not only that some scenes in the film might be part of a fiction defined by another part of the film, but also that their linearity is constantly changing as E.S. rearranges the notes on his wall. In this sense, this is a quite literal visual illustration of Foucault's transformation of history into a totally different form of time.

Regarding the discourse around nation states and nationalism, Suleiman uses both the withholding of information (like the identity of Manal Khader's character and her relationship to E.S.) and the overabundance of thereof to the point of fantasy (as in the Palestinian ninja sequence and tank explosion) to illustrate his point. When discussing the concept and importance of silence in his film, Suleiman points out that he uses it not only for politics ("silence is very political – what it conveys depends on how you use it"[3]) but also for providing his opinion on the matter and its causes ("silence shows a breakdown of communication"[4]) and allowing the viewer to express their own ("Silence allows space for the spectator", "it allows the potentiality for the spectator to participate, to co-produce the image"[5]). As such, he not only provides an alternative to the discourse on nation-states/nationalism, but he also leaves the possibility for the viewer to add their own opinion to the discourse. Essentially the lack of information/silence is Suleiman's way of telling us that not saying/refraining from saying something can very well function as a political tool, and that the viewer should question lack of information in the same way they would the presence thereof. Further, the "breakdown of communication" shows that what is communicated in one way is not necessarily the way that it appears and might in fact function in a different way than it would seem. Often breakdown of communication is used, in Divine Intervention to express the banality of the situation (such as the tourist asking for directions and the blind prisoner providing them) which in turns shows the banality of the discourse itself. Finally, the silence that allows the spectator to participate, in addition to involving them in the decision making process of meaning, opens the door for the existence of this possibility to begin with. It essentially puts the spectator in a position where they are able not only to question what is on the screen, but further draw their own conclusions and form their own opinion on the matter (as opposed to blindly 'assimilating' opinions expressed in the film, if not straight out accepting them).

Finally, the form of Divine Intervention allows Suleiman to express his view of the Palestine that transcends a mere geopolitical entity or a nationalistic idea[6]. The fantastic imagery gives way to an abstraction of idea through form that is all encompassing. Suleiman's Palestine is in essence the entirety of the Palestinian people, their wishes, dreams, aspirations, fantasies, culture, art, hearts, souls and ninjas. It is, quite simply put, an abstract but real, an imagined but remembered, a state but not a state, a reality but also a dream, a 'Palestine'.



[1] "The Occupation (and Life) through an Absurdist Lens” The Journal of Palestine Studies. Vol. 23 No. 2 (Winter, 2003), pp. 66

[2] Ibid., 67

[3] Ibid., 68

[4] Ibid., 68

[5] Ibid., 69

[6] Ibid., 73

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Paradise Now, Curfew and Divine Intervention

As Palestinian films, both Abu-Assad's Paradise Now and Masharawi's Curfew convey the Palestinian "experience" through "a reality of distress and siege, of a perpetual hopeless downfall"[1]. In Paradise Now, the presence of the broken cars, references to water filters and general decay under the occupation serve as a backdrop for the events that eventually lead to Said (Kais Nashif's character) boarding a bus full of IDF soldiers. We never see an explosion, and much of his motivation derives largely from his feelings following his father's collaboration with the occupier than rather what indoctrination him and Khaled (Ali Suliman) might have been subjected to. As such, Paradise Now diffuses what spectacle could have been derived from a film dealing with suicide bombers, and as Nouri Gana notes, obstructs the "consumption of reel violence" while placing suicide resistance in the "historical continuum of narrative nationhood"[2]. But while the film avoids the spectacle, it nevertheless shares the common theme of the perpetual hopeless downfall that is so prevalent in Curfew. Together, the films function to define the image of a nation under occupation, an image which is used not only arouse sympathy (in a somewhat similar manner to the IRA's "sympathy through failure" strategy[3]) but more importantly in defining a blueprint for representing Palestinians as a people united in the face of the occupation.

By contrast, Elia Suleiman's Divine Intervention not only revels in the spectacle, it further goes against the very image established in Abu-Assad's and Masharawi's films. Granted, his film is set in Nazareth and Jerusalem, which are part of Israel proper and as such not subjected to the same difficulties that the characters in Paradise Now or Curfew might have been dealing with, but the image of Palestinians is nevertheless very different. No longer does one see this unified people in the face of an oppressor, but rather, Suleiman's Palestinians fight among themselves, expressing "frustrations that start to be unleashed against each other"[4]. While Suleiman does point out that this might be a particularity of Palestinians living in Israel as opposed to the West Bank, he also mentions that it is symptomatic to ghettos in general. Suleiman's departure from the norm of representing the nation under siege is perhaps better articulated in an earlier interview with him from 2000, where he talks of his attempts to "deconstruct [the] imposed national image" through which he tries to produce "something beyond a static ideological position, beyond the ideological definition or representation of what it is to be a Palestinian"[5].

It is perhaps this attempt that exemplifies the dichotomy that is Suleiman's work as a Palestinian director (and more broadly, that of other directors associated with a national cinema). On one hand, his work is distinctly Palestinian, dealing with Palestinian people and Palestinian matters, on the other hand, he does not deal with this in a manner which became a signature of Palestinian cinema though the works of directors such as Abu-Assad and Masharawi. This is the paradox that every national cinema is faced with but which it must ultimately overcome in order to transcend a cinema ruled by one or a handful of typical images exemplifying the nation, towards becoming a cinema rife with a multitude of dissonant voices, together forming the nation which they are part of, instead of the nation which they are "supposed" to be part of. Considering this, Elia Suleiman is perhaps one of the most valuable directors of Palestinian national cinema on its path to assert itself not only among other national cinemas, but also among other nations.



[1] Nurith, Gertz, George Khleifi. “Without Place, Without Time: The Films of Rashid Masharawi.” Palestinian Cinema: Landscape, Trauma and Memory. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2008. 117

[2] Nouri, Gana. “Reel Violence: Paradise Now and the Collapse of the Spectacle.” Comparative Studies of Southeast Asia, Africa, and the Middle-East, Vol. 28, No. 1, 2008, 37

[3] Richard Kearney, "The IRA's Strategy of Failure." The Crane Bag, M. Hederman and Richard Kearney, eds., (Dublin: Wolfhound, 1982), 700-702

[4] "The Occupation( (and Life) through an Absurdist Lens” The Journal of Palestine Studies. Vol. 23 No. 2 (Winter, 2003), pp. 70

[5] “A Cinema of Nowhere: An Interview with Elia Suleiman.” Journal of Palestine Studies. Vol. 29 No. 2 (Winter, 2000), pp. 99.