Blog Archive

Blog Archive – 2018

What A Pomegranate Means to Me; Film review: “Land of the Pomegranates”

January 01, 2018

by Barbara Nimri Aziz

                Rumman is our Arabic word for pomegranate—the fruit and the word embody an Arab essence we all recognize. In English, the word ‘pomegranate’ feels awkward. Uttering ‘rumman’ however, we taste its tingling tartness. Held for an instant, as it rolls off Arab lips, it’s released in a single, soft syllable. A parallel may be in the English word ‘fulsome’ that carries a similar memory of abundance, excess.

                ‘Rumman’ is a poetry word; it’s imbued with emotion and imagery connected not only to our food but to our literature and songs. More than a fruit, it’s a tea, an herb, a drink, a syrup, a condiment for stews and stuffings, and a sexual metaphor too.

                Throughout Palestinian neighborhoods, one sees pomegranate trees in household gardens beside old stone dwellings, those left standing after 60 years of occupation and war.

                So a film titled "Land of Pomegranates" will evoke rich images for any Arab, and for Turks, Iranians and Pakistanis too. Our sexy, luscious association of ‘rumman’ is, however, dispelled by this film’s promotional illustration. There we are presented by a pomegranate juxtaposed with a menacing black sphere: a grenade. Then the eye moves to the background—the stark grey landscape stained by the endless line of the “apartheid wall”, the 26 feet high barrier constructed by Israel during the past decade. 

                You’ve got it—conflict. Soft versus hard. Palestine versus Israel. Again. In this film we have yet another searching-for-peace ‘humanizing’ documentary that examines the ideal of dialogue between these two hostile peoples.               

                As possibilities of any political solution to the Palestinian-Israeli conflict disappear, hastened by the U.S. president’s recognition of Jerusalem as Israel’s capital, it’s increasingly unlikely that any Israeli (or Palestinian) is able to present an evenhanded picture of the ‘situation.’

                I do not know if Hava Kohav Beller, the Hebrew-speaking director and citizen of Israel, thinks she’s presenting an unbiased picture, starting with the pomegranate which she clearly misconceives. (Was she thinking of the French ‘grenadine’ which besides the name of pomegranate syrup, refers to a grenade-tossing soldier?) Blurbs promoting this film (released in the U.S. January 5th) suggest Beller’s story is impartial: we are told, for example, how “she (shows) us that a dialogue between Israelis and Palestinians is the only way out of a violent and tragic stalemate”, that she “dramatically and evenhandedly portrays the seemingly intractable problem…”  and so on.

                The production is framed in the context of a formalized attempt at dialogue—a demonstrably unsuccessful exercise that becomes apparent in the course of the event. That ‘dialogue plan’ is situated in Germany— within a program called Vacation from War whose sponsor we do not know. Nor do we know if it continues today. (The use of eight-year old footage weakens the film’s message, and we might ask why those conversations were not updated by revisits with participants.)

                The film uses extensive clips from Vacation from War’s 7th year. (It began in 2002.) On their ‘vacation’, equal numbers of Israelis and Palestinians, about 30 altogether, are assembled to talk to one another. The film focuses on statements from only a third of the group’s members, five Palestinians and five Israelis, all 25 to 30 years of age. We know little about the individuals, but we watch them listening and questioning each other, giving testimonies about their suffering, their rights, their disappointments, their pain, and their family histories. There is no indication in the clips from these dialogues that participants are moving anywhere but further apart.

                A creeping awareness of that futility is, for me, a sad message from within the film, a message in contrast to its claims. Another unsettling feature of these dialogues is a clear disparity in an unspoken persona of the two peoples conveyed in the film:—on the one hand, the Israeli exhibits deep confidence, righteousness and pride; unquestionably the victor, requesting nothing from his/her dialogue partner. On the other side is the aggrieved Palestinian asking for some, any, accommodation. We leave them without any hint of a solution.

                As if anyone might feel equivocal about the director’s message, those clips of dialogue (filling over half of the two-hour film) are interspersed with a further message through scenes from the ground—newsreel clips of Israeli victims of bus bombings, and extended interviews with Israeli citizens. Relaxed in their sitting rooms, the Israelis speak about family fears and accommodations, with frequent reference to the holocaust experience, and about their military victories.            

                The single extended Palestinian story is of Reham, a young Gaza mother accompanying her four-year old boy to an Israeli hospital for a heart operation where she finds acceptance, kind surgeons, and medical help otherwise unavailable.

                Besides Reham’s arrival at the hospital, our only glimpse of Palestinians is from afar--in a street screaming at soldiers to desist, rushing a wounded youth to an ambulance, challenging settlers climbing onto their house or invading their fields. Oh yes, there is one joyful wedding dance by men and youth in a Ramallah street. One wonders why the filmmaker could find no Palestinian besides Mohammad from the dialogue project to talk with.

                 A question hangs in the air: what kind of pomegranate and what land of pomegranate is this film about? And why pretend evenhandedness?

 

[ What A Pomegranate Means to Me; Film review: “Land of the Pomegranates” ]


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