Growing between the Noise, Analysis of Eran Riklis’ Lemon Tree

by Thomas Winegarden

Lemon Tree is a drama film directed by Eran Riklis. The film itself is based on similar events involving Israel’s former Minister of Defense Shaul Mofaz. However, the film follows the perspective of an Palestinian widow, Salma Zidane, and her struggle to resist the seizure of her lemon grove by Israeli authorities. Salma is paralleled by the Minister’s wife, Nora Navon, throughout the film. Allowing the audience to witness the relationship between the two women who live yards apart, and exist in dramatically different socio-political spheres. Doing so Riklis creates a political symbolic film regarding the daily lives of Palestinian citizens and others in the middle east in light of the political conflicts, which he accomplishes by employing symbolism with the characters and the lemon grove itself. 

Salma and Mira, play symbolic roles that allow Riklis to use the narrative as a political allegory. Salma, a palestinian widow, is representative of the larger palestine and the grief that palestinians have had to endure. Mira, in contrast, is symbolic of a national Israel identity, and represents empathy in the face of conflict. This is best exemplified in the scene where Salma discovers Israeli soldiers picking lemons, from her seized grove, for the Minister’s party. When first witnessing the theft Salma shouts “What are you doing? Who let you into my grove?” (Riklis, 2008, 01:02:28). Following this Salma proceeds to throw lemons at the Minister and his wife while demanding they leave. Mira simply replies “We just wanted a few lemons, I’m sorry” (Riklis, 2008, 01:03:38). Here the audience witnesses the direct confrontation between the two women, and symbolically the interaction between Palestine and Israel. Which exhibited political underpinnings, as Salma’s pleas could be applied more broadly to those suffering due to the territorial conflict without dehumanizing her opposition. 

The lemon grove itself is also used as a tool of political symbolism to represent the loss of tradition and culture. Although a physical space, the grove holds a greater cultural and emotional significance. In one aspect it represents lineage and family tradition, as Salma inherited it from her father. With the seizure of the grove representing the loss of homeland experienced by Palestinians, who are forced to give up physical space and the attachment to it. In another aspect the lemon grove is broadly symbolic of Palestinian culture and socitey which has been subjected to great upheaval from Israel expansion. As citrus and the citrus industry is a big aspect of Palestinian national identity. This is best visualized in the film in the scenes of Salma entering the gated grove, which occurs on multiple occasions, only to be subjected to the orders of an Israeli soldier standing watch. Symbolizing the emotional turmoil over the loss of homeland and identity. 

The portrayal of Salma’s struggles and the relationship with Mira serves as a testament to the experiences of individuals who are impacted from the loss of home and tradition. By understanding Salma as a symbolic Palestine and Mira as a symbolic Israel, the audience is able to empathize and humanize the conflict on both sides. Riklis is able to achieve this political allegory film relating to the Israel-Palestine conflict only by employing symbolism with the characters and the lemon grove, which expresses impact on the daily lives of Palestinians and other individuals who are subject to conflict. 

Works Cited: 

Lemon Tree. Directed by Eran Riklis, Written by Suha Arraf and Eran Riklis , 2008. 

Lemon tree: the Intersection of Nature and Politics

By: Sam Sastro

Lemon Tree (2008) is a film directed by Eran Riklis. Riklis is an Israeli director, and the film combines both nature and politics to provide a unique perspective on the Palestinian-Israeli conflict. Salma is the main protagonist of the film and is a Palestinian, while her next-door neighbor is the Israeli minister of defense who lives with his wife Mira. Relationships between the two women are developed subtly through the conflict and represents how nature can act as a barrier in relation to both aiding and causing conflicts in political discourse. 

The threat of nature can be representative of a fear of the unknown and how uncontrollable aspects cause fear and anxiety to the Israelis even through they are only a few yards away. The conflict is represented in the film and juxtaposes man-made structures such as guard towers, walls, and armed guards with nature and a single woman who is trying to preserve her land. The contrast of these two aspects can be related to culture and modernity.  The support system that Mira had such as her lawyer Ziad, children and other onlookers of the conflict felt connection to the Lemon Trees and the patch. However, when being broadcasted by the Israelis, the urge and the importance created heightened levels of anxiety that dangers lie in the vast lemon trees and pose an imminent threat to Israeli security. 

Politics in the film are highlighted by Salma’s lengthy efforts to try and defend her homeland. Her first offer to settle and compromise was for her to get rid of her trees. However, standing her ground both figuratively and literally escalates the situation and represents into a politically charged conflict on a smaller scale: Mira’s homeland of Palestine to her is her family’s home. Riklis emphasized these trees as not only being part of Mira’s homeland however also being passed down by her late father and how these lemon trees represent her family lineage. Nature and the symbolism through roots and stems are representative of not only Salma’s struggles throughout the film however representative of the shared collective trauma of Palestinians through their history with occupation. 

Although the film is an intimate take on the Israel-Palestine conflict, the plot and politics can be simplified to an underdog story which have the audience anticipating the ending if Mira will win her “battle” and successfully defend her homeland, her family, and her identity. Potential relationships arise as the wife of the minister, Mira travels through the trees to meet her neighbor to talk. However, they never speak, the effort and the harmless journey to her neighbor’s house show the harmlessness and the beauty in the lemon trees that Riklis captures throughout the film. 

The last shot of the movie is the barren field that once housed hundreds of lemon trees separated by a steel wall and now uprooted trees, representative of Salma’s loss in the trial. The implication of nature being the threat is proven wrong with this shot. The desolate nothingness shown implies no “threats” that the Minister Navon implied. The film juxtaposes the Israel and the Palestine border by showing the backyard of the minister followed by his garden and Salma’s backyard. Although hopeful in the context that the trees could grow again as the roots and stems are still intact, the film Lemon Tree shows how nature can be used as a threat in the political sphere.

Works Cited

Riklis, E. (Director). (2008, March 27). Lemon Tree [Film]. IFC Films.

West Beirut (1998): Identity and resilience

By Nicholas Schwab

The Lebanese Civil War, which raged from 1975 to 1990, is still regarded as one of the more crucial periods in the country’s turbulent history and has left a lasting impact on the collective consciousness of Lebanon. Ziad Doueiri’s “West Beirut” (1998) is one of the many artistic interpretations of this time that attempts to captures the essence of life amid the chaos of the war. With its setting in Beirut in the early years of the conflict, the movie weaves together themes of identity, resilience, and the devastating effects of conflict on people and communities to present a gripping examination of the human condition. Ultimately, the film shows the 1975 Lebanese Civil war, successfully highlighting the identity crises caused by the war as well as the resilience of the human spirit using a narrative focused on its young protagonists, Tarek, Omar, and May.

“West Beirut” illustrates the impact of the war on individual identity, as in many ways, the film is a coming-of-age story about the teenage main characters. Tarek and Omar’s friendship in fact serves as a microcosm of Lebanon’s fractured society during this period, especially underlining the arbitrary nature of the conflict and its human cost. Throughout the film, the two are put into dangerous situations, such as crossing areas with snipers aimed at them, and even being shot at in the street. In addition, they argue often, whether it is about Tarek almost getting Omar into trouble, or even more complex topics such as the addition of May, a Christian, into their friend group. Despite all of this, the friends ultimately realize that their shared humanity transcends the boundaries imposed by war and external pressures of sectarian traditionalism. 

Schwab 2

This is evident toward the end of the film in the scene where Tarek truly opens up to Omar on the rooftop and the two cry and hug.

As previously stated, “West Beirut” is also a testament to the resilience of the human spirit. Despite the horrors of war, the characters demonstrate courage, finding moments of joy and laughter amidst the chaos. Tarek, Omar, and May refuse to be defined by the violence surrounding them, choosing instead to and defy the limitations imposed by their circumstances. In example, they make valiant attempts to cling to innocence, such as when Tarek empties the bucket onto his neighbor who wakes everyone up with a tirade of negativity from her balcony each morning. Their unwavering determination to preserve their sense of self and also protect their loved ones (shown by Tarek worrying about his parents dying when he is crying on the roof) portrays indomitable human spirit.

Overall, “West Beirut” is a poignant and powerful portrayal of the Lebanese Civil War, using the experiences of its young protagonists, to highlight the profound impact of war on individual identity while celebrating the resilience and strength of the human spirit. As Lebanon continues to reckon with the legacy of its turbulent past, “West Beirut” remains a powerful beacon of hope and confidence in the strength of humankind to survive and prosper.

Martina Melilli’s Love Letter to Libya

By Victoria D’Amico

My Home, In Libya, is Martina Melilli’s love letter to her culture– or specifically, her
grandparents’ culture, as refugees forced out of Italy’s Libyan colony in 1970. In collaboration
with Mahmoud, a young Libyan man communicating with Martina over texts, the two are able to piece together a picture of Libya that today, is completely unrecognizable. Martina’s
grandparents lived in Tripoli under and post Italy’s period of colonialism, where the country
yearned for independence but found relative stability. Decades later, Mahmoud lives in the same Tripoli, at least physically; however, finds himself in a country of disarray in the aftermath of the assassination of Muammar Gaddafi. The film not only navigates the audience through these two periods, but gives them an opportunity to evaluate Libya’s political climate through history. This documentary styled by a series of found photos, text messages, and footage, charts the course of Libya’s independent culture and where it finds itself today– an attempt to showcase both the negatives and positives of this progression.

But where does this style of filmmaking fall short? With its quiet ambience and collages,
the aestheticism of the piece often comes between what the film is trying to convey. Melilli’s
collection of photographs and handwritten notes tend to romanticize a dark time in Libya’s
history– this can be attributed to the fact that in these moments, she is looking at Libya through
the context of her gradparent’s relationship. Her grandparents, who identify more so as Italians
than Libyans. Furthermore, as Tripoli is explored through these montages, little to no context is
given in order to adhere to the soft style of this kind of documentary filmmaking. The voiceover
of the grandparents discuss how they met each other, their home, and moving to Italy– it is not
often they speak of the civil unrest that came with living in a colonized country. This starkly
contrasts the perspective and photos we get from Mahmoud– visuals of the deaths of children,
descriptions of the feelings of bombs, the reality of government censorship and dictatorship.
However, while the information is vastly different, it is presented the same; fitted into their text
messages to keep Melilli’s aesthetic. The style almost makes it hard to perceive this information
as serious as it is, especially when there is such emphasis on how difficult it was to get that
information in the first place. In addition to this, the back and forth between Melilli and Mahmoud depicts a flourishing relationship between the two, but at moments, there are messages included that add more to the dramatic flair than to the story of an ever-changing Libya.

Yes, it is necessary to show the softer sides of their relationship– in a way, it also sets up
a parallel to humanize Libya’s history in comparison to Mahmoud’s reality. Furthermore,
Mahmoud’s reality has a dichotomy to it; spliced between death and destruction, the audience
sees moments such as his graduation. When presented in the form of text messages (or photos
with no context) the significance of these moments, good or bad, blur. In a way, these moments
are not comparable, and in being compared, their severity lessens and meanings change.
Ultimately, the style of the documentary trumps the exploration of Tripoli as an ever changing
country– making it a beautiful documentary to watch, but one that feels hollow at times.