semitic cinema

When what you want doesn't happen, learn to want what does.
-Arabic proverb

Last Wednesday, a friend and I saw Paradise Now, an Israeli film about two young men from Nablus assigned to blow themselves up on a bus in Tel Aviv.


I was very conflicted about even going to see this movie, because I was afraid that by delving deep into the world of an unnamed Palestinian terrorist organization, the story would necessarily humanize the adherents who, I believe, lose some humanity by the very fact of their membership. Said and Khaled are indeed humanized, but they are not glorified. While their complaints about living in the modern-day West Bank are certainly valid, the film goes to great lengths to undermine their cell's purported religious motivation and justification for terrorist acts. An organizer for a human rights group--and Said's love interest--Suha provides a strong, reasoned counterpoint to the involvement of the two men in the organization; in addition, their "martyr" videos take on an almost comical air when technical snafus and other mundane concerns intrude. Moreover, the chosen are not wide-eyed, manical, religiously-fanatical automatons but rather mere hapless mechanics who engage in continual questioning of their choices. As my friend wisely observed after the movie, it was reassuring to see in these two suicide bombers the possibility of a change of heart. Much about the film remained disturbing, however, including their shaving and changing clothes to look more like Jews, or "settlers," as they are called by the Palestinians. And I found myself thinking all the way through the story's unfolding, "Please, please, please don't show a bus blowing up," because the events become quite thrilling as the uncertainty mounts. The ending is finally clear but far from inevitable.

New York Times review

Roger Ebert's review

Last Thursday, I went on a wonderful date with a very charming man who took me to see Ushpizin, an Israeli film centered around the festival of Sukkot in the Mea She'arim neighborhood of Jerusalem. The movie features a unique collaboration between Ultra-Orthodox and secular Jews; in addition, the ultra-Orthodox protagonist is a former actor whose wife had to be recruited to star opposite her husband as a condition of his participation in the film, as their religious mores prohibit him from looking directly at any woman other than his spouse. "Ushpizin" is an Aramaic word meaning "guests," and the movie tells the story of penniless rabbi Moshe Bellanga and his wife Mali, who host two men from Moshe's troubled past during the feast of booths. Moshe and Mali pray for a sukkah and for money to pay rent, and G-d sends both along with their disruptive visitors, causing, no doubt, a reflection upon Karen Blixen's wisdom, "When G-d wants to punish you he answers your prayers." One of the most memorable scenes is Moshe's release of frustration at his guests' desecration of his prized etrog.


I highly recommend the film, and I was pleased with its Abraham-and-Sarah-esque happy ending, although my date took issue with the unfortunate sexism of the last scene's depiction of an Ultra-Orthodox ritual.

New York Times review

Village Voice review