Sunday 23 February 2014

Film: A World Not Ours

Hello from the twilight zone! It's taking a little longer than usual to type this, as we're still in the dark, with no sign of the landlord. But we're surviving, with laptops and plug-in lamps. It's just the overhead lights that are gone - must be a blown fuse, but we don't know where the fusebox is. Ah well.

I don't know when I'll get to a play again - there have been quite a few on, but generally they're sold out by the time I get to them. Fortunately, the same cannot be said of (most) films, and today's was A World Not Ours, at the Institute of Contemporary Arts.

Quickest way tends to be via Piccadilly Circus, and after checking that there were no planned engineering works today in the city centre, I flattered myself that I remembered the way without having to recheck the route. Heh. Well, nearly. To be fair, I got the correct exit from the Tube - Lower Regent Street and Eros - and, had I continued forward from that exit, I'd have been fine. Instead, for some reason, I decided to turn right, and found myself lost. But I retraced my steps after a couple of minutes, and found myself heading in the right direction again, still in time for the film.

Now, this film is directed by someone who is technically a Palestinian refugee. However, it opens with him having trouble with the guards at the entrance to the camp he's making the film about, because his Palestinian refugee ID expired many years ago, and only refugees can enter the camp. You see, his father got the chance to emigrate to Denmark, and immediately took it. He now lives in London. But he did spend part of his childhood in this camp, and as he says at the end, he supposes that the making of this film is his attempt at finding somewhere he belongs, somewhere he's from. Interestingly, part of the film shows him accompanying his Jewish classmates on a trip to Israel. His family were all so excited, because he was the first from the family to go back there - but, as he says, he didn't feel he belonged. Although he did take a detour to visit those of his relatives who were still there.

His friends could never understand, he says, why he chose to spend his holidays in this camp. And you have to sympathise with them. It's claustrophobic and squalid. This is the largest Palestinian refugee camp in Lebanon. It's 70,000 people living in 1.5 square km. He has a real affection for the place, and describes how he used to come back here for the World Cup, which invigorated the camp. But things changed after the celebrations following the 2006 World Cup, when the Israelis bombed the camp: and when this film was made, in 2010, the atmosphere was different. There was simply less enthusiasm.

We meet his friend, who's a member of Fatah. Not out of any Palestinian nationalism, mind - he just needs a job! And, you see, the Lebanese government won't let Palestinian refugees work in Lebanon. Regardless of qualifications. So whatcha gonna do? He needs money, he's not getting anything for free.. Finally, he gets sick of Fatah and quits. Tells everyone he's got work elsewhere, but he's actually smuggled overland into Greece. He's captured trying to walk to Germany (he did get as far as Serbia).. after a short time, he and his fellow Palestinians, with whom he's been sleeping rough on the streets of Athens, are deported. Back to the camp.

God help the refugees of this world. It seems that no-one else is doing much. Quoted a couple of times during the film are the words of Ben-Gurion, Israel's first prime minister. You see, in order for the dispossessed Israeli diaspora to be given a home in Palestine, another diaspora had to be created. Of the people who were living there beforehand. Of whom he said - "The old will die, and the young will forget". Except it's hard to forget, if you're crammed into one of these settlements, and forbidden to do anything else.

This camp struck me as being a breeding ground for not only terrorism, but for mental instability - witness the story of one of the filmmaker's relatives, who lost it after his beloved brother was shot by Israeli soldiers. And the camp has been in existence now for more than 65 years. You'd think someone would have come up with a solution by now. If they cared. I keep thinking of 12 Years a Slave, and how everyone is describing it as such an important film, how educational it is. This is every bit as important, and the events it describes are happening right now.

Continuing the cinematic theme, tomorrow's film should be a bit more lightweight. I'm thinking of seeing Only Lovers Left Alive, the vampire romance with Tilda Swinton. Yes, I can appreciate that casting.. and on Tuesday, I've booked to see Spite Marriage in the British Film Institute. It was Buster Keaton's last silent film, I believe. Why booked, you might ask, especially as there were still plenty of tickets available? Well, they have these cheap tickets on Tuesdays, see.. and there was only one of those left! PS I remember complaining a while back about a double request for donations on their website. See, when you selected your ticket, they suggested a donation of 10% of the ticket price. Ok, fine. Then they added a booking fee. Then they suggested another donation, which pissed me off so much that I removed the donation I'd already agreed to. I see they've removed the 10% donation suggestion. I mustn't have been the only aggrieved customer..!

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