Laughing in the face of terror
(Filed: 16/01/2003)

The Israeli-Palestinian conflict is the unlikely subject of one of 
the funniest films of the moment. SF Said talks to its director, Elia 
Suleiman

Divine Intervention is like no other film you've ever seen. One part 
silent comedy, one part art movie, one part political dynamite, it 
has earned its writer-director-star, Elia Suleiman, comparisons with 
the great comedians of cinema, giants such as Buster Keaton and 
Jacques Tati. But, while it's one of the funniest films around, it's 
also a lot more than that.

Elia Suleiman: has faced misunderstanding and trouble from all sides 
of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict

Released here tomorrow, it won two prizes at Cannes last summer, 
establishing Suleiman as one of the world's leading film-makers. A 
42-year-old Palestinian, he is self-taught, and this is only his 
second film. Yet already he shows a fully formed, wholly original 
cinematic sensibility. "I never studied film," he says. "I hadn't 
seen Tati or Keaton until after I made my first feature. I left 
school when I was 17; I was a street kid, doing nothing. But then I 
went to New York, and for a year I did nothing but read books and see 
films, three films a day sometimes."

Perhaps this is why Divine Intervention looks and feels like nothing 
else . It is a mosaic of beautifully composed tableaux about 
Palestinian life under Israeli rule. Suleiman is not interested in 
the speech-making and slogans that dominate Middle East politics. He 
is fascinated, instead, by the absurd and surreal; by the little and 
not-so-little bits of human business that never make it on to the 
news about the Middle East.

The very first scene of the film shows Santa Claus being mugged by 
some children on a Nazareth hill-top. It's ridiculous, and hilarious 
- until you ask yourself what it might mean.

"I think it works because it announces from the beginning the inner 
violence of Nazareth," says Suleiman. "Something must be really wrong 
in this place. After that, you can understand why nobody speaks, why 
there's this total disintegration of all social communication."

All the characters in Divine Intervention move around in a precise, 
poker-faced choreography in which things are forever going wrong. 
People wait for buses that never come. Grumpy old men stab children's 
footballs. Characters nurse spectacular fantasies of revenge and 
violence that only highlight their impotence in real life. These 
scenes found their way from Suleiman's notebooks into his film.

"I carry notebooks everywhere I go," he explains. "I write all sorts 
of things in them - all the realities I pass through. If I see some 
sort of potential choreography in a daily banality, it tickles me, so 
I note it because it's funny."

What makes Divine Intervention not just comic but genuinely important 
is the resonance such scenes have when you put them all together. 
They raise searching questions about the Palestine situation, not in 
any kind of hectoring way, but through their humour and open-ended 
texture.

Suleiman was born and grew up in Nazareth, which has been part of the 
state of Israel since 1948. Although he has lived abroad, and has 
strong connections with the film-making worlds of Paris and New York, 
his work is firmly rooted in Palestinian experience. Divine 
Intervention's central preoccupation is peace and how the lack of it 
poisons people's lives, their relationships, even their dreams.

But, as a maker of art not propaganda, Suleiman has faced 
misunderstanding and trouble from all sides. It started with his 
first film, Chronicle of a Disappearance, which won the prize for 
best debut at Venice in 1996, yet was tabooed in the Arab world. 
"Even now," he says, "I read an article in the Arab press, 
criticising Divine Intervention for being ironic and not respecting 
the Palestinians."

Equally, he has run into repeated obstruction from the Israeli 
authorities. After endless difficulties making Chronicle of a 
Disappearance, he delegated the job of obtaining the necessary 
permissions for Divine Intervention to an Israeli friend.

"He set up a sort of front company and got the permissions," says 
Suleiman. "They wouldn't have given it to me."

The cast and crew of Divine Intervention included both Arabs and 
Israelis. Ironically, however, neither Arab nor Israeli money went 
into it. The film was financed mainly from France, and it was made 
even as bloody conflict was raging between Israelis and Palestinians.

"We had a very insecure time," he says. "We couldn't start shooting 
because the Israelis were shooting. They were occupying our decor, 
and putting their own decor. We didn't always manage. The Israeli 
police came and broke the set a couple of times. They were disturbed 
by the humour."

The last scene in the film is perhaps the most eloquent. It's a 
simple, static shot of a pressure cooker sitting atop an oven, 
accompanied by the words: "That's enough: stop it now." Does he think 
there is any hope for peace between Israelis and Palestinians?

"The only way I can see it working is if Israel becomes just another 
normal secular democratic state," he says. "Similarly, when people 
ask me what it means to have a Palestinian state, I think it means 
the end of occupation. I'm uninterested in anything called national, 
but I think there is an absolute need for a Palestinian state, simply 
because it means the soldier and the tank are no longer at the 
doorstep, and the children can go to school."

Despite all the difficulties, Suleiman got his film made and is now 
winning over audiences around the world. There have been no 
screenings yet in Palestinian or Israeli cities, because of the 
conflict.

"At the New York Film Festival," he says, "I was worried after 
September 11 that a Palestinian film might be booed before it's seen. 
Some of the audience were Jewish, and some had affiliation to the 
state of Israel. But my preconceptions were proved utterly wrong: it 
was a great response. I know it sound presumptuous, but I think the 
film criss-crossed boundaries. That's what cinema can do; maybe 
that's what laughter can achieve."

16 November 2002: The human face of Islam [Islamic film makers]

23 May 2002: About an old boy [Divine Intervention at the Cannes Festival]

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