"Ajami" (2009) is titled after a neighborhood in the Israeli city of Tel Aviv−Jaffa that is a point of tension where cultural tectonic plates of Muslim, Christian and Jewish people meet. To experience the film, which was nominated for an Academy Award for Best Foreign Language film at this year's Oscars, is to have a jarring sensation of a collision; it opens with violence and stages an emotional assault for a harrowing two hours nonstop.
The film tells the interlacing stories of different neighborhood residents. Nineteen year−old Omar seeks to protect his family from revenge−fueled attacks by members of a Bedouin group in the wake of his uncle's violent encounter with the group. Malek, a young Palestinian refugee, is working illegally in Israel to help pay for a life−saving surgery. Binj, a wealthy Arab, seeks to find a way to settle down in Tel Aviv with his Jewish girlfriend. Dando, an Israeli−Jewish police officer, must deal with the search for his missing brother.
Each character has his personal drama played out in one of the film's five chapters. Just when one story seems too much, the plot is wrenched from one point of view and thrust upon another. In employing a nonlinear plot structure — telling the story out of order and flashing back and forth in time — the filmmakers force the audience to make assumptions about the different characters' arcs, reserving key details until the very end. This method of storytelling is a keen commentary on the way that reality is understood in and about the Middle East. Assumptions are made and positions formulated on half−truths before the whole story is finished.
Directors Scandar Copti, a Jaffa−born Christian Arab, and Yaron Shani, an Israeli Jew, use "Ajami" as a vehicle to toy with the notion of identity. With this multilayered narrative, they effectively separate entrenched cultural conflict from personal trauma. In a story about people, Copti and Shani rearrange identity — an area of interest in which order often matters.
In an Israeli film about Tel Aviv−Jaffa, it's easy to approach the characters as Muslims, Christians or Jews, as Israelis or Palestinians. But as the story circles back on itself and the audience must watch and re−watch powerfully upsetting drama, the approach changes. The characters are just people; their constructed identities are easily forgotten as they face incredible trials and suffering.
With a riveting story and rich characters, Copti and Shani may have achieved something very near groundbreaking in "Ajami" — assuming people go to see it.
American audiences may not know what to do with the film. Without a familiar celebrity face or an expertly mixed soundtrack to guide the way, "Ajami" is almost too real. Its cinéma vérité filming style is useful, if not somewhat overused. That the filmmakers shot on−location, with non−actors, sometimes unscripted, lends a measure of credibility that counteracts the reliance on shaky camera handling. It all adds up to a dark and grim human reality that American audiences may find hard to swallow. Viewers will soldier on, if only seeking the resolution of a well−written and gripping plot. They will find themselves more than a little disconcerted by an unrelenting, mildly horrifying parade of shocking twists that goes on just a little bit too long.
Representative Israeli or Arab groups may have something to say about the portrayal of their constituencies, negative or otherwise. The argument could conceivably be made that the film portrays all Arabs as gang lords and drug dealers or all Jews as combative chauvinists. But this argument is largely irrelevant. The film portrays its characters simply as people in complex situations, and it becomes apparent that all of these personas are ultimately backed into corners based on circumstances.
It's tempting to understand individual characters as representative of a whole group, but this film is not meant to represent synecdoche. While "Ajami" may serve as another useful addition to the world of commentary surrounding conflict in the Middle East, it is above all a good movie. Its characters are intensely human, and — if not all entirely likeable — they are relatable. The experience of watching the film is intense, often physically difficult. Like its characters, "Ajami" rises above the situation that inspired it, and becomes the inspiration.
