Almost everyone I know likes “Omar”, the Palestinian drama film directed by Hany Abu-Assad currently showing across Canada.
The critics certainly liked it. It won the Jury Prize in 2013 at Cannes. It was shown at the Toronto International Film Festival (TIFF), and was the Palestinian entry for the Best Foreign Language Film at the 86th Academy Awards.
And my friends also all rave about it. They think the film is powerful. Gripping. Well acted. Realistic. There is a Palestinian love story which shows Palestinians as very human. But most of all, they like it because it shows graphically just how mean and vicious the Israeli police/IDF are in their treatment of the Palestinians.
I agree with all of that.
BUT – I think it also carries another message that is very negative for Palestinians and damaging for anyone trying to develop support for Palestinian human rights in Canada.
Think of it. What is the main argument we hear when we talk to normal, decent Canadians about the injustices Israel inflicts on the Palestinians?
In a nutshell, it’s this:
“OK, Israel does a lot of nasty things. The occupation is bad. The blockade of Gaza is bad. Repression by Israeli police is bad. BUT – Israel is surrounded by terrorists. Palestinians and others send rockets into civilian areas. They send suicide bombers into cafés. They assassinate Israeli soldiers. So what is Israel to do? It has no choice but to defend itself – and unfortunately that means using some pretty unsavoury tactics.”
I think “Omar” reinforces this narrative.
It starts off with 3 kids who decide to assassinate an Israeli soldier. No particular reason is given. (I am sure lots of Palestinian kids dream of this. But hardly anybody really does it.) They are part of some kind of “brigade” which sets up an ambush to kill some more IDF troops in a café.
Voila – our worst suspicions confirmed – the Palestinians are born terrorists. There is an ongoing “war” between Palestinian guerillas and Israeli troops. Israel has to do something!!!
Judging from the movie you would think that Israel is under constant siege and knocking off Israeli soldiers is an almost daily event. In fact, it pretty rare, and certainly much rarer than Palestinians being killed by Israeli soldiers, or police or settlers.
And why do the Palestinians hate the Israelis so much? The only clue we get in the movie is that the Israeli soldiers are brutal and insolent and humiliate the Palestinians. The movie doesn’t refer to land confiscation, or lack of human rights, or economic exploitation or house demolitions or ethnic cleansing or any other reason for Palestinian resentment.
Unfortunately, many Canadians think they already know why Palestinians hate Israelis. They have been told over and over again that the Palestinians hate the Jews because… they are Jewish!!
Of course, I can’t fault the film maker for the message a Canadian audience takes from the film. The film maker is neither a propagandist or educator.
But like it or not, a film is both propaganda and educator. And I think this film encourages a widespread view in Canada that Palestinians are anti-Semitic terrorists who just wont leave the Israelis in peace. As a result, in the eyes of many Canadian viewers who do not understand the conflict, while the film exposes the brutal activities of the Israeli security forces, it also seems to provide a logical explanation for them.
I was very relieved that someone, other than myself, shared the same apprehensions about what was portrayed in “Omar”, and was even more delighted to read through the author’s perceptions of the production and to see how they resonated with how I felt about “Omar” and most cinematic productions depicting or including Middle Easterners (MEs). Lately, the movie industry has been displaying signs (albeit modest thus far) of a shift in attitude towards MEs and how they are portrayed in a dramatic production; as more supportive, humanistic (we love and hate just like everyone else), and even displaying an intelligent sense of humor (as opposed to the frequently-cast slapstick humor). But despite these modest advancements, the subliminal messaging of former stereotypes remains active in the background: the negative messages in “Omar” as the author pointed out, the continuous portrayal of Arabs as being either overly rich, all-Muslim, power-hungry, revenge-seeking (or some complex), or that we heavily reliant on Westerners to think for and/or advise us. Although this may be very true to certain parts of the MEs, it clearly does not resemble the majority and I believe that more and more movies like “Omar”, “Five Broken Cameras”, “The Square” among others, will help broaden the perspectives beyond the familiar narrow definition of an Arab or a Middle Easterner.
I had a slightly different take on the movie. I think there is more nuance to the movie than your review indicates. For example, you say that there is no particular reason given for why Omar and his friends want to attack Israeli soldiers.
But the opening scene is deliberate: Omar being stopped by the IDF, humiliated by being made to stand on a stone with his hands on his head, then beaten for not complying. Isn’t that the context for the actions they take subsequently?
However, the movie for me was really about the corrosive effects of the occupation on Palestinian society. The main plot concerns the relationship between Omar and his friends, their families, and ultimately his own girlfriend. The IDF’s push for informers and their ability to blackmail Palestinians speaks once again to dynamics of power in the conflict. That is, the raw (and abusive) power of the Israelis to dictate life, not just at the checkpoints but within the homes and culture of Palestinians. I thought the movie exposed that in a way that we don’t see through other mediums.
In the end (spoiler alert), we know that Omar destroys even himself, after so many of his relationships have been poisoned.
I did find the ending hard in that viewers are not left with much hope. The gun goes off. We know who is killed. We know what happens next, even though it is not shown. It seems to reinforce the “cycle of violence” narrative that is a common mainstream media theme.
Nevertheless, a movie is one story, a slice, and cannot, nor does the director wish to, portray all dimensions of the situation.
I haven’t seen Omar, so I can’t comment directly. But I’ve been amazed about how many (non-documentary) films that we expect to be sympathetic to Palestinians are about terrorism, whether the films are by Palestinians, other Arabs, or others. Why is that? I’m thinking of Paradise Now, Inch’Allah, The Attack, and now, disappointingly, Omar. I know we storytellers go for drama, and terrorism is dramatic, or maybe it’s what producers want. But wouldn’t it be good to see some films about Palestine and its politics that focused on something other than the few Palestinian terrorists? Or, wouldn’t it be good to see a filmmaker deal with terrorism and/or violence as political tactic?
Hi Peter,
Thanks for writing this- I enjoy receiving these emails from you. I have to say that I strongly disagree with this piece though.
I loved this movie. Mainly, because it was entirely made up of a Palestinian cast and crew and also because, it felt as though the director was speaking directly to me. This feeling of making an honest connection is something that as a Palestinian, I do not experience enough. As a Palestinian, this film spoke to me, it was real, and it was honest. It was honest because, yes, it showed Palestinians with guns, it showed the wall, it showed love, passion, fear, pain, loss….
The Apartheid Wall is in the opening scene of the film. That sets the tone of the entire film, that in itself is reason enough for how the rest of the film’s plot unfolds. As you say, soldiers are brutal and humiliate Palestinians– is that not enough? I do not believe that the Director needs to inform the audience of the entire situation and give a “Palestine/Israel 101” address– that is not his duty as a filmmaker.
This film is not damaging, it is in fact empowering. To be afraid or to try to hide the history of Palestinian violent and non-violent resistance is being dishonest and untruthful to our narrative. It is extremely important to recognize that there are various complicated, and real-lived experiences that Palestinians go through. We are all have our own story, and our own narrative, not all of us share the exact same struggle in the exact same way. I do not think that having to hide these narratives and stories to make others feel “comfortable” or “sympathetic” to my “cause” is the moral and right thing– it negates our struggle and places us into a box where we can’t break free from.
This is a film, and I believe that the filmmaker has created something beautiful and something real that audiences, like myself and my family can connect to.
I am proud of this cinematic achievement and I applaud Hany Abu-Assad for producing raw stories from behind the wall.
Reem
Thanks for writing this- I enjoy receiving these emails from you. I have to say that I strongly disagree with this piece though.
I loved this movie. Mainly, because it was entirely made up of a Palestinian cast and crew and also because, it felt as though the director was speaking directly to me. This feeling of making an honest connection is something that as a Palestinian, I do not experience enough. As a Palestinian, this film spoke to me, it was real, and it was honest. It was honest because, yes, it showed Palestinians with guns, it showed the wall, it showed loved, passion, fear, pain, loss….
The Apartheid Wall is in the opening scene of the film. That sets the tone of the entire film, that in itself is reason enough for how the rest of the film’s plot unfolds. As you say, soldiers are brutal and humiliate Palestinians– is that not enough? I do not believe that the Director needs to inform the audience of the entire situation and give a “Palestine/Israel 101” address– that is not his duty as a filmmaker.
This film is not damaging, it is in fact empowering. To be afraid or to try to hide the history of Palestinian violent and non-violent resistance is being dishonest and untruthful to our narrative. It is extremely important to recognize that there are various complicated, and real-lived experiences that Palestinians go through. We are all have our own story, and our own narrative, not all of us share the exact same struggle in the exact same way. I do not think that having to hide these narratives and stories to make others feel “comfortable” or “sympathetic” to my “cause” is the moral and right thing– it negates our struggle and places us into a box where we can’t break free from.
This is a film, and I believe that the filmmaker has created something beautiful and something real that audiences, like myself and my family can connect to.
I am proud of this cinematic achievement and I applaud Hany Abu-Assad for producing raw stories from behind the wall.
I personally think we must be careful about how we judge works of art. This is after all the creative expression of the director, and must be recognized as merely a single contribution to cinema. It would be wrong, and even unfair, to expect the film to be responsible for depicting all of Palestinian society and the conflict of Israel-Palestine at large in two hours. It is even greater folly to for us as outsiders, to be telling Palestinians what is authentic image of themselves to portray.
This isn’t the first time I’ve heard a Palestinian film scrutinized for how it depicted the Occupation. A university based Palestinian support organization once refused to advertise Rana’s Wedding because it didn’t depict a “harsher reality.” This was a shame I think as it was a fundraiser for an organization that supported Palestinian refugees.
I was fortunate enough to see the film. It was beautiful, and heart wrenching, and should be congratulated for it’s ability to resonate with viewers.
“Director Says ‘Omar’ Is A Love Story, Not A War Story”
http://www.npr.org/2014/02/23/280712026/director-says-omar-is-a-love-story-not-a-war-story
I must admit that I was one of the ones who really liked the film. While it can be viewed as “both propaganda and educator” it can equally be viewed as “both art and entertainer”. Shorn of specific context it can be enjoyed as a highly suspenseful human drama of star-crossed lovers, friendship, betrayal, tenderness, cruelty, treachery, paranoia—well acted, well-paced and well photographed. The script actually gives very little background. A viewer unfamiliar with the details of the separation wall could be quite confused initially, assuming that Omar scales the wall to get to the Israeli side to visit his Jewish girlfriend.
A similar film could be set in any context where a powerful majority controls the lives of an oppressed minority, in ancient Rome, say. More specifically, it would not be farfetched to imagine a similar story in the same local transposed to the dying days of the British mandate in the late 1940’s. In this version—perhaps it would be titled ‘Moshe’— three Zionist youth are determined to resist British oppression, etc. So it seems that the film’s creators wanted to present a deep human drama and used the wall as a metaphorical obstacle and the West Bank setting only incidentally as Shakespeare used Denmark as a setting for Hamlet or Scotland as the setting for Macbeth.
Of course most of us who went to see this film (certainly anyone who would read and comment in this forum) viewed it through the lens of special interest and preconceptions about the situation in present day Palestine. I for one hardly thought about the scene where the three boys shoot the Israeli soldier, dismissing it as a dramatic device to set the stage for rivalry between three friends and giving a plausible reason for the obsessive manhunt. But I was very much struck by the scene where Omar learns that his comment “I will never confess” is deemed to be a confession, sufficient grounds in itself for a lengthy jail sentence—a specific example of how Israeli authorities disguise harsh and unjust practices under the semblance of due process. Similarly revealing are scenes where planted agents in the Israeli jail try to turn Omar against his friends and where he is offered fulfillment of his fondest dreams if only he turns informer. Here we see Israel’s nefarious efforts to sow dissention among the oppressed Palestinian population.
So, in short, those who want to see a good film won’t be disappointed. The rest of us will see a lot to sanction our preconceptions.
(Just read the previous post making the same substantial point as I was about to submit this.)
I’ve seen it now, and I liked far more than I’d expected. My earlier comment that too much fiction on Palestinians is about violence and terrorism, but Omar, I think, rises above the others.
First, I really enjoyed seeing Palestine again. The countryside, the cities, the people. The chase scenes were terrifying and fantastic. I really liked the story: the sense of doom as in Hamlet or Romeo and Juliet, where lies and confusion will lead inexorably to tragedy.
Finally, I liked the politics. First of all, Omar is not about suicide bombers; none of the characters desire or expect to die in their resistance. And the three men are not religious fanatics. They seem nice, normal people, neither particularly admirable nor reprehensible. Nor do we hear them talk politics, about goals or strategies, about leaders and parties. Resistance, in one form or another, seems simply to be in the air, and “armed resistance” is simply most obvious, nearest at hand.
But the violent resistance, as shown in Omar, is absolutely pointless. Acts of violence by Palestinians lead to greater acts of violence by Israel, and never come close to challenging Israel’s dominance. Acts of violence lead, among Palestinians, to division, paranoia, retribution and death. Such acts of violence are, in Omar’s world, perfectly understandable, but perfectly useless, too, and absolutely self-destructive. Really, it’s just a game — a deadly game — played by nice young men.
Hany Abu-Assad’s film makes, I think, a brave political statement.