Review - Inch'Allah

November 28, 2013

Inch’Allah – Canada, 2012

A young boy walks behind a young girl with long black hair and a fashionable black luxury backpack. The girl approaches a café, where a polite man welcomes her and takes her order. The boy’s attention soon turns to a stack of caged bird being sold by a local vendor, and he watches them with the same wide-eyed wonder as an equally-young boy later in the film admires a flock of sheep. Suddenly, the joy and wonder of the moment are shattered, replaced by the sounds of mournful wails, fearful cries, and frantic sirens. The scene, while predictable, is important, for it presents viewers with a brief glance at the kinds of events that have fueled the tension, distrust, and, in some cases, utter indifference that we see exhibited throughout the rest of Anais Barbeau-Lavalette‘s 2012 film, Inch’Allah.

One of the problems with Inch’Allah is its adherence to the notion that viewers need an outsider to help them understand the issues involved in certain conflicts. According to this line of thinking, they need a western doctor in order to understand just how terrible Idi Amin was or Caucasian characters to understand the evils of Jim Crow laws or the Klu Klux Klan. This technique can be effective for lesser-known conflicts, ones that do not get much attention on the nightly news; however, for those that are much more well-known, it can seem like pandering to or underestimating an audience, and unfortunately, that is slightly the case with Inch’Allah. The film presents the Israeli-Palestinian conflict as seen through the eyes of Chloe (Evelyne Brochu), a Canadian obstetrician who lives in Israel, but works at a makeshift clinic for pregnant Palestinians in the West Bank.

Through her eyes, viewers see the chaos and destitution that exists on the Palestinian side of the Israeli-erected wall that separates Israel from the West Bank. One of the film’s most-used images is of a graffiti-covered section of the wall that is surrounded by piles of garbage, which refugees scrounge through daily in an effort to find basic necessities. It is not hard to imagine the area sprawling with businesses and homes were it not for the wall. We also see scenes of momentary joy – the fun children have making jokes and teasing each other, smiles that appear on people’s faces when they sit down to eat together as a family, put on make up, or simple light up a cigarette. We also see and hear of moments of sheer humiliation for Palestinian men at the hands some understandably stressed and overly-cautious Israeli soldiers on checkpoint duty. In addition, there is of an undercurrent of danger running throughout the film, which often comes out at night or in isolated areas. Plans are afoot, the seeds of violence are being sown, and people are being recruited for horrifying and deadly acts of what they consider retaliation for wrongs done them.

Witnessing such horrors would undoubtedly affect someone’s psyche, and I imagine that some people will find Chloe’s journey starting and fascinating. However, as I watched the film, I couldn’t help but be increasingly drawn to the character of Rand (Sabrina Ouazani) and intrigued by her circumstances. This is a character torn between feelings of hope and bouts of despair. Pregnant, she holds out a glimmer of hope that the future will be better for her child, yet with her husband awaiting a jail sentence and her dismal economic prospects, it is hard for her to keep those hopes going. I suspect that Inch’Allah would have been a more moving film had it been scripted around her, similar to the way Paradise Now centers around two Palestinian men and not an outsider.

The film includes a particularly moving scene in which Chloe takes Rand’s family to their former family home on the Israeli side of the wall. The home is now reduced to rubble, and the area has been essentially abandoned. Still, the family sits in the area that used to be their kitchen and reminisces about what were then simpler times, and for a moment, they are happy. It is then that one of them voices his resentment about having had to get permission to visit what was once theirs. The scene made me question reports that few Palestinians actually seek what has come to be called “the Right of Return.” There are also several touching scenes involving a young boy named Safi (Hammoudeh Alkarmi) who wears a superhero costume and dreams of flying over the wall he walks along every day. On the other hand, there are too many speeches that approach sermons, most of which end with a variation of the sentiment, “This is not your war, Chloe,” and the film has an ending that seems unnecessarily stereotypical for a film of this kind and that is unfortunately telegraphed too far in advance.

That said, Inch’Allah works, albeit not nearly as well as it probably could. It is well acted, and it includes a few surprising turns. I doubt well-informed viewers will learn a great deal new from the film about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict as a whole, but they will likely be moved by the film’s diverse characters and the film’s documentary-style imagery. It is very easy to believe what we see in the film, and it is possible to come away from it with a better understanding of the individuals directly affected by the conflict. However, it does make you wonder just how well the film could have worked had the conflict been viewed through a different set of eyes. (on DVD in Region 3; on DVD in Region 1 on December 3)

3 stars

*Inch’Allah is in French, English, Arabic, and Hebrew. 

Review - The Five of Us

May 16, 2013

The Five of Us – Canada, 2004

Had I been reviewing films in 2004, I have no doubt that I would have ranked Ghyslaine Cote’s The Five of Us as one of my favorite films of the year. It has that rare near perfect combination of story, acting, and pacing, and it consistently avoids the clichéd path that films of its kind so often go down. At one point I expected it to dwell on a particularly horrific moment in time, to show in detail the panic and the terror that people experienced and possibly to linger in the forest while police stealthily moved in. Instead, the film fast forwards fifteen years and very subtly begins its somber look at the lasting impact of violence and murder. It is in every way a masterstroke.

The film begins with a spinning aerial view of an area of the countryside so compact with autumn-colored trees that it is impossible to see anything near the ground. The scene is simultaneously beautiful, dizzying, and unsettling, for anything could be happening on the ground below. Our view from the sky soon focuses on a moving car. We hear singing and the jovial sounds of people obviously heading somewhere fun and exciting, and later we see five young girls having the time of their lives. One jumps into a crystal clear lake, and in the first of the film’s excellent cuts, the same girl - now seventeen years old - emerges from the water. It is clear that this has been these girls’ “spot” for much of their young lives, much as secret caves, tree houses, and green parks have been other young people’s spots. These are the places of special memories, of first loves, deep conversations, and private reflections. Of course, they can also be places of break-ups, disappointments, and tears. The wonderful lake house in The Five of Us will eventually be a remainder of both good times and terrible loss.

The first part of the film serves as a reminder of the naïve-like optimism that teenagers often look at the world through. To these five young ladies, anything is possible. Claudie (Brigette Lafleur) dreams of becoming a world famous chef, Sophie (Naomie Yelle) a chart-topping singer, and Isa (Ingrid Falaise) a supermodel. Along with their friends, Manon (Jacinthe Lague) and Anne (Julie Deslauriers), they believe that they will succeed if they are just willing to work hard enough for their dreams. Their conversations will sound familiar to many of us. They talk openly and humorously about their sexual experiences, or lack thereof, they experiment with drugs and alcohol, and they are bound by friendships that seem indissoluble. Watching Isa and Sophie talk with such optimism about their hopes and dreams, I was reminded of my own conversations at that age. I was every bit as sure of my own success as they are of theirs.

Something terrible happens that weekend that changes their lives forever. The beginning of the film hints at it, Manon survives it, and the rest of the film reflects on it – sometimes in the form of deep and meaningful conversations, sometimes in facial expressions that reveal a degree of pain that no one should ever have to deal with, and sometimes in shocking flashbacks. It is the latter choice that gives me mixed feelings, for as shocking and important as what we see in the flashbacks are, I can’t help wondering how much more powerful it would have been to hear them described by an actress as involving as Lague.  

The film is a reminder that the wheels of justice often spin faster than human beings heal. Fifteen years may be enough time for a criminal to rehabilitate himself, yet trauma such as the kind that Manon experiences can last a lifetime. The film wisely does not take sides on this issue. Instead, we watch as the four survivors return to the place where their lives changed so abruptly and reconnect. Their conversations reveal the range of emotions that greet the decision to grant parole to someone convicted of such a violent crime. Understandably, there are calls for revenge, questions about forgiveness, and emotional outbursts brought on by survivor’s guilt. It is all powerful and realistic, and the film’s resolution is as true to life as it could possibly be. The Five of Us is truly an unforgettable experience. (on Blu-ray in Region A)

4 and a half stars

*The Five of Us is in French with English subtitles.

*It was voted the most popular Canadian film at the Montreal World Film Festival in 2004.

Review – The Barbarian Invasions

August 17, 2009

The Barbarian Invasions – Canada, 2003

“When I was young I knew everything” – The Verve Pipe, “the Freshman”

I may be wrong, but it seems to me that The Barbarian Invasions is essentially about the symbolic act of passing the world to the next generation, regardless of how ill-prepared that generation may be to receive it or how unwilling a generation is to let it go. Representing the first generation born into a world of nuclear weapons and constantly changing social norms is Remy (Remy Girard), a well-educated professor of history who feels he never quite became the man he wanted to be. Oh, he can discuss historical facts and capture the attention of his peers all right, but it is the attention of his son’s generation that escaped his grasp. This generation – my generation, in fact – grew up watching television sitcoms and playing video games instead of reading the classics novel our parents read or discussing how a little love and compassion might just be enough to save the world. In fact, many of my generation grew up wondering simply how to get rich quick and turned to pipe dreams such as instantly lucrative investments in the stock market and the dot-com industry to help them accomplish it

Denys Arcand’s The Barbarian Invasions begins with a simple phone call to a man whom Remy could not be more distant from, both emotionally and physically, his son Sebastian (Stephane Rousseau), a man who it seems has made his money by short-selling. When told his father’s condition has gotten worse, his initial reaction is to act as if this is not a reason for him to fly out. After all, he reminds his mother, he and his father saw each other a year earlier for about fifteen minutes and ultimately had nothing to say to each other. However, common sense soon prevails, and Sebastian and his fiancée Gaelle (Marina Hand) are on their way home from Britain to Canada. Back home, it is easy to see the chasm that exists between father and son. These are two men who can sit in a room together and say absolutely nothing to each other for hours. When words are finally said, they are more likely to be words commonly heard in verbal spats than tender reminisces of earlier, sweeter memories. And yet kindhearted reminisces are what Remy deserves in his final days, and so Sebastian does his best to provide them for him, flying his father’s dearest friends out to spend his final days with him.

Viewers looking for deep conversations or reflections on the meaning of life may be disappointed with what comes next, for the banter that this reunited group engages in involves memories of years spent womanizing, of the good old days of travel and wine, and of the numerous political theories that they have subscribed to over the years. These topics create a context under which for a brief moment, the great elephant in the room can remain hidden. It’s exactly how I suspect characters like these would act in real life. That’s not to say that there aren’t moments during which Remy’s pain and confusion seep through the justifiable façade taking place. We see Remy ex-wife Louise (Dorothee Berryman) verbally berate Remy for his past infidelity with such a great deal of emotion that one could easily conclude that those wounds are as fresh today as they were years earlier, and there are moments when Remy lies alone in his hospital room weeping. There are also a few fascinating conversations between Remy and a character of unexpected importance. But the expected conversation about the meaning of life, the one in which the parent imparts to his son wisdom that he hopes he in turn imparts to his son, never comes. It can’t. As Remy himself admits, he still hasn’t found a meaning to it all. How then can we expect him to explain it to his son? Even more tragic is Remy’s inability to speak to his daughter Sylviane (Isabelle Blaise) one last time.

The Barbarian Invasions goes against much of what conventional cinema or television have told us someone’s last hours of life are like. I’m used to films in which a man’s dying words are of the utmost importance, of scenes in which a character’s moment of death comes after a long awaited reconciliation or important announcement. Here, when father and son embrace for the last time, they do so with barely any words spoken between them. They both know what the other would say, and therefore the words are unnecessary. The moment was perfect.

As I write this, I find myself thinking about key moments from The Barbarian Invasions in my head, as if there is wisdom in them that I missed the first time. Perhaps repeat viewing will show this to be true. To say that the message of the film is that life is precious would be to simplify the film unjustly, but that may be the only cliché that fits the film. Remy has certainly enjoyed his life, and he remains unapologetic for the damage and separation that his womanizing ways and intellectual arrogance have caused his family. But perhaps he has earned that.

The Barbarian Invasions works on so many levels that when the film is over, it takes you a moment to take it all in. But that moment is important, for in that moment, we experience what each of the film’s characters at some point has realized, that life is impermanent, that there’s not enough time to wrap up everything before we go, and that the best way to go out may be with a laugh and a simple thank you. (on DVD)

4 stars

*The Barbarian Invasions is in French and English with English subtitles.