In Paradise Now, Palestinian writer-director Hany Abu-Assad presents the human face of suicide bombers. He shifts attention away from the larger-than-life religious dogma that surrounds the subject, and focuses instead on the minutiae of commonplace ethical dilemmas.
As the title suggests, heavy-handed doctrine is not entirely deleted — as it can’t in a film about a phenomenon often deemed to be driven by impassioned zealotry. It is dished out generously, but only offered as part of the rationale that drives two young West Bank friends and fellow mechanics, Said (Kais Nashef) and Khaled (Ali Suliman), to willingly offer their lives in a significant bombing mission set for Tel Aviv.
The bulk of their reasoning is merely accredited to their analysis of the socio-political conditions that engulf them and, in Said’s case, to the additional need to exorcise the haunting shame brought on by his father’s apostasy.
Abu-Assad eschews polemics, relying on his voyeuristic camera to provide some context in the early stages. There’s the graceful yet tense scene where activist Suha (Lubna Azabal), who will later try to persuade the pair against their mission, crosses a checkpoint while an Israeli soldier steadies his aim towards her. There’s also the scene where Said and Khaled leisurely smoke a hookah while sporadic gunfire and shelling echo in the Third-World sprawl of Neblus down below.
So when Said is fired from his job and trainer Jamal (Amer Hlehel) timeously meets him to ready him for his pre-agreed joint mission with Khaled, a case has been made for their wholehearted compliance. From then on, the faultlessly portrayed characters take over the narrative with oodles of gravitas and charisma.
Hlehel, in particular, proves to be the unsung star of the film. His character is tasked with maintaining a psychological grip on his two recruits. His portrayal of the measured fervour that Jamal employs to secure the complicity of his subjects makes for the film’s most strident statements about humanity. Yet, Said and Khaled remain ruminative beings and, as the plot thickens, so too does their quandary, with emotionally unsettling results.
Like the saga it portrays, Paradise Now refuses to provide a clear ending. While it may leave some feeling short-changed, with its diplomatic premise of “stimulating discussion”, it is not the outright clarion call for peace that some have made it out to be.
Even though the film makes no apologies for being firmly rooted in a Palestinian vantage point, it wisely avoids the self-righteous pontification that is all too easy to assume in this intensely polarised debate.
With diplomacy out of the way, Abu-Assad concentrates on matching the grit of his subject matter and flaunting the picture’s legitimacy. The movie was shot on 35mm film stock that not only enhanced its lucidity but was, according to the director, designed to give it a distinctly different feel from news coverage. The locations, too, are true to life. Where Khaled comically reads his martyr’s invocation, for instance, is the real headquarters of a local guerilla movement. All this results in a picture whose images are as disturbing and as indelible as the live drama it replicates.