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. 

Unraveling, “West Beirut” a journey of conflict and humanity

By Isabella Yepez

The film West Beirut provides an emotional journey delving into the historical relevance and societal issues of the Lebanese Civil War while illustrating a story that underscores humanity in times of conflict. Director Ziad Doueriri transports the audience into the streets of a city ripped apart by violence on an emotional level. Themes of chaos and fear are painted within elements in the opening scene, showing the aftermath of a horrific bus assault. Soldiers and snipers surround the streets, standing guard against the perpetual fear and tension that pervade daily life.

“West Beirut” primarily addresses the several effects of the Lebanese Civil War on people and communities. Specifically, in the characters Tark, Omar, and May, their identities have to revolve around the constant reminder of the city’s hardship, yet despite the constant challenge, they search for happiness. Themes of love, resiliency, and human connection are at the core of the film, primarily in Tarek and May’s blossoming romance, transcending sectarian barriers and providing a glimpse of a hopeful future for peace. The power of love is a notable theme in the film as Tarek overcomes the established societal divisions and the biases of his friend Omar as he pursues May despite her Christian beliefs. The film’s intricate features are visually appealing, with symbolism that strengthens the narrative. In Tarek and May’s secret encounters, the film’s imagery encourages the audience to fully immerse themselves in their world.

            Moments like Omar consoling Tarek and assuring him that safety is universal, despite religion, highlight the film’s powerful theme of unity amidst division.

The scene where Tarek, Omar, and May are walking around their war-torn city, searching for moments of normalcy, is an exemplary moment of their daily environment. The sounds of gunfire and explosions in the distance as they wander through the streets littered with debris fill the streets at every turn. The trio finds comfort in each other’s presence despite the destruction, and their moments of laughter together contrast the devastating reality of destruction that surrounds them.

The complex relationship between characters who are each in search of their own identity and personal challenges. This is prominent within Tarek’s friendship, and his constant optimism gives hope, and his interactions with Omar bring to light the underlying tension that boils underneath sectarian boundaries. The divide of Beirut into East and West signifies the intricacies of identification and mining relationships, while conflict is prevalent, reflecting a metaphor for a divided society. 

The lasting impression the film West Beirut induces in the viewer is an inspiring contemplation on the spirit of humanity’s resiliency and brings awareness to conflict. The timeless message of optimism and unity in the face of war is reinstated with a fresh perspective from the director through the depiction of universal themes of love and friendship.

“West Beirut” pushes past the boundaries of ideology, race, and religion, serving as a reminder that, in the end, what ties society together is common humanity. Using empathy, comprehension, and group efforts, viewers are left with a reflection of how conflict can pave the way for peace and reconciliation.

My home in Libya

By Charles Sonalia

In the touching film My Home in Libya,  directed by Martina Melilli, the narrative begins with a compelling exploration of self-identity, memory, and the constant looking for a sense of belonging in order to “rekindle” her family. Through direct scenes and evidence from the film, viewers are sent through the journey of Martina Melilli as she deals with her family’s history and the unfavorable displacement.

One key scene that shows Martina’s desire for connection is when she sits down to sketch a map of the city, cautiously tracing the places that hold memories of her grandparents. This  representation becomes a symbolic act of storytelling, as Martina attempts to navigate the ruins of her family’s past and find her place within it. The camera hangs around on Martina’s hands as she draws, shedding light on  her emotions and the desire for her  to have a sense of home. Another compelling moment occurs when Martina finds a connection with online communication with a young man from Libya named Mahmoud. During their digital exchanges, the viewers of the film get to see the combination of two worlds and the bridges of geographical divides. In one particular exchange, Mahmoud shares stories from his own life in Libya, giving Martina a view into a world she has never known. These major conversations are a major character building moment within the film, serving as a catalyst for Martina’s “soul searching”, causing her to confront the complexities of memory and the fluidity of identity.

The film also strategically mixes the  historical context with personal narrative, putting the spotlight on the major negative implications of displacement. In a flashback scene, viewers are taken to the political turmoil of 1969, as Antonio Melilli and thousands of other Italians are exiled from Libya following the major government overthrow (coup d’etat) of  Gaddafi. This major moment in history shadows largely over Martina’s journey, building her understanding of self and family.

As Martina goes deeper and deeper into her family’s history, she deals with the selective nature of memory and the ways in which it shapes personal stories. In a short moment of recollection, Martina confides in Mahmoud about her struggles to fully grasp and understand her Italian heritage with her family’s connection to Libya. Through their dialogue, viewers are meant to think about the intricacies of cultural identity and the shifting ideals behind a sense of belonging.

All in all, My Home in Libya is a cinematic masterpiece that allows a connection with viewers on a major emotional level. Through its vivid storytelling and deep character development, the film invites audiences to embark on a journey of self-discovery and introspection. By tying together direct scenes and evidence from the film, viewers are transported into Martina’s world, where the search for identity and belonging takes center stage. In an era marked by geopolitical disruption and cultural changeability, My Home in Libya  serves as a steady reminder of the  human longing for connection, understanding, and a place to call home.

Works Cited

My Home in Libya [Martina Melilli] (2018)

Wadjda: A hopeful film or piece of State Propaganda

By: Quentin Powell II

            Haifaa al-Mansour’s Wadjda is the story of a resilient girl in a society that seeks to determine what is and is not permissible for her. Wadjda’s personal triumph in the end seems to point to a loosening Saudi state that despite all the societal and governmental restrictions it places on its women still allows for Wadjda to reach her unique form of self-actualization that is at odd with those restrictions. However, this message’s main purpose is not to galvanize or give hope to a female domestic audience but to lull a foreign audience into believing the Saudi state is a lot more progressive than it is.

            Wadjda follows the eponymous young girl and her quest to buy a bike. Bicycling is not considered a feminine act and her obsession with bike and its representation of her desire to reject the calcified gender norms of Saudi society is considered wrong. Wadjda’s defiant personality and precocious attitude along with her small acts of rebellion like her black converse are supposed to be strong examples of her freedom of spirit. And on an individual level this is certainly true but on a societal level in a film that has to get approval from government censors it is a form of controlled opposition. Note that for Wadjda to get the money to even buy the bike she has to compete in a Qur’an competition. This is a subtle reinforcement of the fact for women to obtain the things that they want they need to conform to Society’s expectations of what a good women should be doing. In other words, even Wadjda’s supposed act of rebellion in buying the bike is done within a social regime supposedly based on Qur’anic law. Wadjda’s Qur’an instructor and the principal attempt to indoctrinate in the social values. The way she can get the money involves going through official channels. Even her eventual obtainment of the bike only happens after her mother is brought low by her husband’s second marriage. Wadjda’s mother acts in a reactionary manner instead of proactive support of her daughter’s non-normative behavior. All of this and more is intentional on the part of the Saudi state. The surface level nature of Wadjda’s rebellion is permitted because they do not really challenge the state and yet they mollify a western audience that is fooled by symbolic acts of rebellion. Wadjda’s most rebellious act is her declaration that she wants to buy a bike after she wins the Qur’an competition but her bold declaration which is personally cathartic but a tactical mistake that leads to her funds to get the bike going to Palestine. This focus on self-fulfillment is great in pleasing an individualistic western audience who sees Wadjda’s personal stance as brave but ultimately achieves nothing. A performative act that the state is glad to approve as it gives the state a progressive façade while changing nothing for Wadjda or the female inhabitants of the country. 

            Ultimately, Wadjda is a piece of state sponsored propaganda that expertly accomplishes the goal of giving the Saudi state a sheen that a skittish western world can approve without really challenging the institutions or structures that have so thoroughly subordinated Saudi women. Wadjda is happy with her bike and Prince Mohammed bin Salman is happy with his propaganda piece. 

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.

My Home, In Libya – Martina Melilli ★★★☆ ☆ 3/5

By Catelyn Chauncey

Following her own experience in human connection, Martina Melilli creates a
compelling narrative in her documentary, “My Home, In Libya.” The documentary is an
artistic dissertation that observes Melilli’s journey in reconnecting with her cultural
ethnicity. Through her striking visuals and cohesive narrative, Mellili brings viewers on a
journey of dissecting her Libyan heritage through her connection with a Libyan man she
meets online, Mahmoud.
The heart of Melillis’s documentary is the exploration of her cultural identity.
Melilli herself cannot visit Libya due to political unrest, so she speaks to Mahmoud
online, who currently lives in Libya. The movie is composed of 3 repeating scenes;
artistic shots of significant motifs, Mahmoud and Melilli’s text exchanges, and Melillis’s
conversations with her grandparents. This cycle composes Melillis’s story of cultural
reconnection. Mahmoud sends Melilli videos and photos of personally significant areas
of Libya and throughout these exchanges, they develop their friendship. At one point in
the film, Mellili and Mahmoud confess that they feel like the other is their only emotional
reprise. Mellili grapples with her own identity as a second-generation immigrant whose
life only exists in Italy because her Grandpa was forced to leave his birthplace.
Mahmoud’s experience with the declining political conditions in Libya essentially
mirrors her grandfather’s history in Libya. Melillis’s experience with cultural rediscovery
may be something that reflects many people’s experiences; often children of immigrants
and victims of political unrest will go through similar emotions. The documentary is very
strong in its portrayal of her experiences and the journey you are invited along to is very
compelling.
Melilli conveys this journey through the use of artistic cinematography and
visuals. Her composition of imagery brings you along for an intimate emotional narrative.
Melillis’s use of symbolism in her imagery captures the nuances of her emotional journey.
Scenes of the ocean appear repeatedly throughout the film. The ocean as a motif can
communicate many of the emotional themes seen throughout the documentary; hope,
discovery, fear, destruction, and limitation. Melillis fascination with the sea as a visual
changes its tone throughout the documentary, beginning as a symbol of her hope and
journey of discovery and morphing into an intimidating, endless expanse as Mahmoud’s
conditions worsen. The imagery of the sea both represents Melilli’s own emotions and the
physical divide between her and Libya. Melilli communicates all of these emotional
intricacies simply through the artistic nature of her film style. This all makes the
documentary a unique and captivating watch, as it all feels so incredibly intimate, while
also making the documentary visually compelling and aesthetic.
Melilli’s use of film as an artistic medium makes following her journey makes her
dissertation stand apart from other, more conventional, delivery methods. The film itself
creates a catalyst for self-reflection in the viewer; perhaps into their own cultural identity,
or merely the absorption of Melilli’s emotional journey. The entire film serves as a
meditation on how human connection builds our cultural identity.