The Palestinian filmmakers discuss their acclaimed movie ‘Love, Theft and Other Entanglements’, and how co-productions have helped and hindered Palestinian cinema
Palestinian brothers Muayad and Rami Alayan’s film Love, Theft and Other Entanglements premiered to rave reviews from audiences and critics alike at last year’s Berlinale. Since then it has travelled the festival circuit, including the Arab Cinema Center and the 2016 Haifa Independent Film Festival (which it opened), with similar success. The film plays with the black-and-white aesthetics of a Jim Jarmusch or French New Wave movie, and its jazzy score adds a touch of humour to its story of a Palestinian carjacker who finds a kidnapped Israeli soldier in the boot of a car he’s stolen.
We sat down with the brothers in January to talk about their film and the peculiar circumstances under which it was made. And its potential impact on independent Palestinian cinema.
How did you come up with the idea for Love, Theft and Other Entanglements?
Muayad: Rami and I have been working on several stories and scripts over the past few years, and this was one of them. We had the idea of a guy running away from his personal troubles but also from the conflict between Palestine and Israel. And as he tries to do that, he just gets dragged deeper and deeper into this shit.
We were also influenced by the general feeling of frustration and depression in the Palestinian community. That’s been there for the past few years, but it grew even stronger over the last year with everything that happened. That reality of being in limbo all the time: Nothing is moving. Nothing is changing. And then we had the idea of the soldier being hidden in the trunk of the car that the protagonist Mousa steals. You can’t get into bigger trouble than that. Suddenly you become the centre of attention of this whole thing.
In terms of production we had different scripts that were in development and we were debating which one we should work on first. We had the chance to participate in the EAVE workshop (European Audiovisual Entrepreneurs) and after that we decided to go with this script. It seemed to be the most feasible, given the resources we had at the time. The other scripts demanded a bigger budget and maybe even a co-production from outside of Palestine.
So the two of you work together all the time? You didn’t just team up for this project?
Rami: Yes we work together all the time
M: We are brothers. [Laughs.]
And does that help in the process or is it sometimes more difficult?
R: I think in general we work together really well. It helps that most of the time I’m in San Francisco and Muayad is in Jerusalem. Sometimes it is good to have that distance, you know? [Laughs.] We understand each other, but we’re also each other’s devil’s advocate. But we have a good workflow. It might happen that I focus more on the writing and Muayad is wearing the producer’s hat and makes sure that what we write is something we can handle in terms of production and so on. So we complement each other pretty well.
Apart from feeling that this script was the easiest to produce at that point, was there another trigger that made you go with this story? An incident that added to the frustration you mentioned before?
M: The story of the soldier was in the headlines before. The last exchanges of prisoners between Israel and Palestine happened while we were putting the final touches to the script. But it’s something that can become repetitive. There have been kidnappings. Political prisoners have been imprisoned for decades. Many exchanges have happened. So you see this all the time on the news but you usually never find a soldier in the trunk.
R: When we did the EAVE workshop in Ramallah, it was around the time that the Palestinian authorities signed the first co-production agreement with the UK, and soon after that they signed one with France. So, the subject of that workshop was basically how to do co-productions. And the conclusion – for us and for the trainers – was that a completely independent Palestinian production, in the spirit of American independent cinema, doesn’t exist. It has never happened before. It happens all the time with documentaries, but nobody had ever done it for narrative feature films.
One of the challenges every new filmmaker faces is that complicated process of co-production. But the thought we had was, “Nobody’s ever tried this in Palestine.” And we wanted to see if it could be done. As much as resources are limited in Palestine, and production is very complicated due to the occupation, I think we’ve laid the ground and showed what we can rely on locally.
What were some of the complications you faced making the film?
M: There were different challenges. One of them was getting the crew to certain locations. Some of the crew were from Bethlehem and Beit Jala in the West Bank, so they carry so-called ‘Green IDs’ – Palestinian IDs. Others live in Jerusalem. They don’t have those same IDs. Riyad Sliman, who plays the soldier, is Palestinian, with an Israeli passport. That meant that the scenes we shot in Jerusalem had to be scheduled around Easter, when the Christian-Palestinian community gets a permit for a few days from the Israeli army to visit the church in Jerusalem. We scheduled other scenes around holidays like Christmas, too. Our line producer and other parts of the crew could then enter Jerusalem with their permits. But the army was late with the permits, so we had to reschedule. You know, stuff like that happened all the time.
Also for the scenes in West Jerusalem [which is under Israeli rule], we shot on a Shabbat [Judaism’s day of rest] – to avoid attracting too much attention – and always with a small crew. We would only do a few takes. Working in the West Bank was also difficult, as it’s divided into areas A, B and C, in line with the Oslo Accords. For area A we had to coordinate with the Palestinian police and get permits from the mayor’s office – particularly on the days where we had machine guns on the set. The police, however, could not come to area B – which is under Israeli military control and the civil control of the Palestinian authorities – or area C, which is completely under the control of the army. It is completely occupied. The Palestinian police could not get to those areas which means we couldn’t use the same weapons. We had to come up with an alternative and started using toy guns, like, a lighter gun that looks like a pistol, for those scenes. So every time you see a machine gun, that’s area A. And every time you see a toy gun, that scene was shot in area B or C.
In addition to all of that, area C is under military control and we have an actor in an Israeli uniform running around with his hands tied behind his back. That can result in a dangerous situation. We were under constant pressure. Making an independent film in general is already hell. Making one in Palestine, in the context of the occupation, you can multiply that by 10.
R: Also you have to consider that as a Palestinian filmmaker – and doing the things we do – you often won’t get a permit from the authorities. So what happens is that you hand in an entirely different script with a fake application in order to get those permits. And you also have to have an Israeli and/or foreign producer.
Can you tell me more about the contemporary Palestinian film scene?
M: Well I think it’s fair to say that, without co-productions, we would have had no films in the Nineties. And then we only had one feature film every five years. From 2000, we’ve had one each year, or at least every couple of years. I remember talking to a couple of the first generation filmmakers from here. They told me that in a crew of 40-50 members, maybe five of them were Palestinian. The rest were from [Europe, generally]. Today, the number [of foreigners in the average crew] is much smaller but still too high. In particular, the heads of departments come from other countries. And that’s because of the limitations of the co-production agreements. For example, if you have a co-production with France, you have to spend a certain amount of money in France. So you end up doing the post-production, or hiring the DOP or other heads of departments from France.
Basically, what this has done to Palestinian film is: We have directors and writers and so on, we make films… but we are not making them on our own terms and with our own resources. This way you cannot develop a community that can put together a film. And that’s delayed the progress of the film industry in Palestine. We thought it was time to have another model. Co-productions are great and necessary, but, just like anywhere else in the world, we should have another model of independent filmmaking, be it micro-budget or locally funded. To have just one, and only one, way of making films is not good.
And do you feel that due to the success of your movie, more people are following this example?
M: After spending a year travelling around festivals with this film, I get the feeling that everybody has this sort of confidence now. They see that it can be done. That you can make a feature film production, have it in major festivals and have distribution and do the whole tour, so they think, “Maybe this is something we should check out.” We hope this is an ongoing development for the younger generation.
Again, I want to stress that I am not against collaborations, but in our case the problem was always that Palestine was weak within the co-production agreements. We do not have state funding. We do not have funding at all for cinema. There only have been a few grants here and there, you know? Norway gives the Palestinian authorities 100.000 Dollars and they distribute it to, you know, 10 filmmakers and that’s it. So when you go into co-productions. It takes you five-to-seven years to get into a co-production. And then you’re weak and you have people involved in the creative aspects, in the story, and so on. And they don’t seek to develop the story to make it a good story, but to change it to fit certain agendas or certain expectations or certain markets.
Having the film at the Berlinale has proven that [our] concept of production can be successful. That was a big success for the project. Rami and I were very stressed because we wanted to get into a major festival. We wanted everyone who worked on it to see that it was possible. And in terms of the film industry, it got us great exposure. We did a wonderful festival tour after the Berlinale, just because all the programmers from all over the world were there.
R: I have to say the audience was amazing. There were four screenings, which were all pretty much sold out and everybody talked to us after the film. Of course, there were a lot of Germans and Europeans in the audience, but there were also a lot of Arabs – either filmmakers or Palestinians living in Germany. There were also Israelis there. All the feedback we got was very positive. It’s kind of hard to make a movie and get everybody to like it, but that was a happy surprise.
Going back to co-productions, are you saying that – as an artist – if you’re making a co-production, you can’t keep your integrity?
M: Yes. I think co-production should [happen], but it has to change. We are trying, through many local organisations, to push the Palestinian authorities to have a fixed fund. So when we get into a co-production with one of those countries, we come with something – not only the creative part, the story and the location. We would come with more. And we’d be in a better position for negotiating a deal.
You mentioned that the trigger for this particular project was that you felt frustrated, and that you wanted to reflect a real situation. So why did you choose a fictional narrative approach, not a documentarian one? What made the fictional option more appealing to you even though you’re focusing on actual situations and problems?
R: Different reasons. I had different ideas in mind, but generally Palestinians are sarcastic about the situation that we have. We laugh at our misery so we can go on and survive through this mess. I think that Mousa, our main character, represents a majority of young people who, unfortunately, would not have been represented well in a documentary. As Palestinians we have different expectations for a documentary. For the longest time, we have had that feeling that our view has not been represented. We always lose the media game to the Israelis because they are more powerful – or the pro-Israel lobby is more powerful – within the media. So there is always this expectation in documentaries to tell the story and to mention the politics, and I think there would be less room for dark comedy or laughter. So we wanted to explore fiction. There have already been so many documentaries. And also there is much more that you can do with fiction when you have characters that you can put in certain situations. When you look at our film today, you kind of have a representation of everything that acts upon the average Palestinian. You have corruption, the representation of the new Palestinian Authority, and the security system. Also, you have the father representing his generation, and you have a lover, and, of course, the soldier. He stands for those soldiers who do not want to be in the Israeli army, but the whole system of the occupation puts them there. So to show this colourful list of characters in a documentary would have been much harder, I think. You’d need a series to cover all that and its dynamics.
You said you keep losing the ‘media game’ against the Israelis. I’ve felt in recent months that there’s been a lot of discussion, especially on social media, about very pro-Palestine news coverage. Is it your feeling that the portrayal of the situation in Palestine is still biased and very pro Israel?
R: I agree that there has been a change, even within international media outlets. But the reason for that is social media and digital technology, [not the people] who are running these channels. Somebody else has to talk about it first. When that piece of news goes viral and it’s on hundreds of YouTube channels and Facebook pages, only then it becomes OK to talk about it, because, “If we don’t talk about it we’re going to look like we’re stupid.” Do you know what I mean? Somebody else talks about it, somebody else is already there. So you have to come up with some kind of version of it. And when that happens and all the media outlets jump on that train, the old game comes into place. People start writing to The New York Times: “How come you put that picture on the front page?” People call the BBC: “How come you used that headline? Why didn’t you say ‘Palestinian terrorist’? Why did you say ‘attacker’?” I hear these things every day.
M: I think social media has changed a lot of things recently. But if you think about it, it was not very long ago that you had a sort of censorship of the Palestinian narrative. I think it is still happening, but social media doesn’t give in to the pressure to cover those things up or not mention them.
Three or four years ago we had a short film in a festival – I’m not going to say which one – that didn’t want to list the film under ‘Palestine’, because somebody on the board of the festival did not think that Palestine is a country.
R: We used to have that a lot, remember?
M: Yes, we did. Until not too long ago. Actually that instance with the festival was in 2012. I was at the festival talking to one of the programmers and he told me that the festival changed their entire program, because they did not want to make it obvious that they did not list a film under Palestine. so they changed the entire program and listed all the films by the cities where the filmmakers live and not by the countries. Which was ridiculous but it happened! And in 2012!
Even with this film, one festival asked if it was OK if they listed the film under Israel! And there was another Jewish film festival abroad, I don’t remember which one, that asked if it was OK to write Palestinian. Not ‘Palestinian Territory’ and not ‘Palestine’. ‘Palestinian.’ [Both laugh.]
Do you think, with that mood change, it might be an advantage to have it labelled ‘Palestine’?
R: Well, I know some festivals that want to have some kind of diverse program and they would be excited to get a film from a country they don’t get that many submissions from, but not really. Part of the reason why it has become easier is because of the success of some Palestinian films. But I think, first of all, it has to be a good film. I don’t think you have more chances just because it is a Palestinian film.
A Palestinian movie might often be watched with a certain mind-set or expectations – arguably more than movies from any other territory. Can Palestinian cinema not be political?
M: The attention so far – for both Palestinian and Israeli films – is, to a great extent, because of the conflict. In Israeli films there are other topics that are related to Israel or Judaism but, generally, [that’s the case]. I hope that changes. I think we have a lot of stories to tell beyond being a nation under occupation. We have so much to share with the world, in cinema and music and literature. Some festivals are not brave enough yet to give a chance to something different. It goes back to what the poet Mahmoud Darwish used to say: “The world is interested in us, because you [Israel] are our enemy.” That’s a very bad translation. Google it, if you want. But that is kind of our motto.
R: That’s actually one of the bottom lines of the EAVE workshop. They told us, when you get a co-production agreement with, let’s say, France, and they spend money on international film productions, it’s not because they want you to make the movie you want to make, but a movie with the kind of stories the French audience wants to see. Which is perfectly understandable. But what that means for Palestinian films in a world where pretty much [all of them happen] through co-production, is that the distinguishing thing about Palestinian cinema is the conflict. So it becomes something you kind of need for your film to be of interest. Otherwise, it’s just a love story. And there are plenty of love stories in France. You can’t break away from it and that is unfortunate. I only know of short films that have had some international success covering a regular story that doesn’t have the usual political context, but I haven’t seen a feature length narrative be successful at festivals without having that situation at least in the background.
Did the movie get any exposure in Israel and if yes, how was it perceived?
M: It hasn’t been shown yet, but it will be. We’re kind of holding back from starting our screening within Palestine, or historic Palestine. We don’t want [it to run] in some territories but not in others.
About the Israeli film festivals: Generally we are no longer willing to participate in anything that is funded by the state. I am not saying we boycott them, because a boycott is a very complicated thing. We judge individual situations. We think some people definitely need to be boycotted [laughs] and others shouldn’t, so it’s wrong to generalise. But, particularly with the current government of Israel and the ministers of culture, I feel sorry for Israeli filmmakers that they are not boycotting their own ministry and what it is doing. I mean the Israeli minister of culture has banned certain filmmakers because of their work and their views. They have stopped certain organisations from renting theatres, renting space to screen movies about the Palestinians or about the Nakba. I think it’s really sad for artists in Israel. I know so many are critical of their government, but because they do not want to go against it, they are too quiet about it. They are indifferent. There are very few who have the guts to say something. And they are really being threatened. The minister was very clear a couple of months ago. She said: “I will make it very clear in the criteria for funding what stories can be told and what stories cannot be told.” Recently they had a book that had a Palestinian-Israeli love story in it banned from the school curriculum. In this context, I don’t think we’re comfortable screening at any festival or event that receives state funding from Israel.
What’s your next project going to be?
M: We have two scripts in development. Rami… do you want to say anything about that?
R: Right now, we’re debating which one to go with. One of them is mostly set in Jerusalem and it has Palestinian and Israeli lead characters. It’s definitely more of a story that needs co-production, because having European producers on board actually helps us with getting the permits to shoot and helps with the logistics on the ground.
It’s similar to Love, Theft and other Entanglements, as it focuses on a personal story of a Palestinian couple and an Israeli couple in Jerusalem, dealing with their personal issues. Somehow, with the background and the place where they live, they get entangled in the political situation. It’s different in tone – it might be more of a psychological thriller – but it’s similar in the sense that it is a very personal story engulfed in the context of the place.
