Lebanese actress/writer/director/producer offers on of the most poignant statement about the struggle in the Middle East, a struggle between Christians and Muslims for power and dominance -a struggle that while real is the most preposterous argument tow 'religions' based on love could have. Would that more people would watch this film there would probably be a better understanding of why the ongoing wars there are likely to never be settled.
The story as written by the gifted Nadine Labaki (who also stars and directs) is that of a little village in Lebanon that is half Christian and half Muslim: the church and the mosque stand side by side and the morning bells from the church play at the same time the Muezzin calls the Muslims to prayer, the cemetery is divided between the Muslim side and the Christian side, etc. The balance between the two factions is tenuous and the men are always looking for ways to start war among themselves. The women of the town try everything to ease the tension - create a café, import Ukrainian belly dancers to distract them, ply them with hashish-laden foods. But when a stray bullet kills the male child of one of the mothers the division stops, the mother hides the slaughtered child, attempting to keep peace until silly arguments among the youths result in the discovery that the endless bilateral taunting has resulted in a tragedy. At the end of the film the narrator speaks: 'My story is now ending for all those who were listening, of a town where peace was found while fighting continued all around. Of men who slept so deep and woke to find new peace. Of women still in black, who fought with flowers and prayers instead of guns and flares, and protect their children. Destiny then drove them to find a new way' - to which the pallbearers ask of the divided cemetery, 'Where do we go now?'
Labaki understands the need for comic relief in a story of this nature and she provides that in some very warmly funny ways - the women walking along in groups sing and do a choreographic step that makes us smile. But the power of the film is the message of compassion and the desperate need to re-think the omnipresent crises that tear the Middle East apart. And it is quite proper to find similarities in every part of society.
Grady Harp
The story as written by the gifted Nadine Labaki (who also stars and directs) is that of a little village in Lebanon that is half Christian and half Muslim: the church and the mosque stand side by side and the morning bells from the church play at the same time the Muezzin calls the Muslims to prayer, the cemetery is divided between the Muslim side and the Christian side, etc. The balance between the two factions is tenuous and the men are always looking for ways to start war among themselves. The women of the town try everything to ease the tension - create a café, import Ukrainian belly dancers to distract them, ply them with hashish-laden foods. But when a stray bullet kills the male child of one of the mothers the division stops, the mother hides the slaughtered child, attempting to keep peace until silly arguments among the youths result in the discovery that the endless bilateral taunting has resulted in a tragedy. At the end of the film the narrator speaks: 'My story is now ending for all those who were listening, of a town where peace was found while fighting continued all around. Of men who slept so deep and woke to find new peace. Of women still in black, who fought with flowers and prayers instead of guns and flares, and protect their children. Destiny then drove them to find a new way' - to which the pallbearers ask of the divided cemetery, 'Where do we go now?'
Labaki understands the need for comic relief in a story of this nature and she provides that in some very warmly funny ways - the women walking along in groups sing and do a choreographic step that makes us smile. But the power of the film is the message of compassion and the desperate need to re-think the omnipresent crises that tear the Middle East apart. And it is quite proper to find similarities in every part of society.
Grady Harp