Run time: 92 mins
In Theaters: Wednesday 2nd October 2002
Distributed by: Avatar Films Domestic Theatric
Production compaines: Bullz Eye Productions
Contactmusic.com: 4 / 5
Rotten Tomatoes: 81%
Fresh: 55 Rotten: 13
IMDB: 6.6 / 10
Director: Elia Suleiman
Producer: Humbert Balsan
Screenwriter: Elia Suleiman
Starring: Wesley Jonathan as Rev. Robert Gibbs, Jazsmin Lewis as Divine Matthews, Laz Alonso as Deacon Wells, Roz Ryan as Mother Candice, Carl Gilliard as Deacon Grier, Cynda Williams as Sister Grier, Reynaldo Rey as Deacon Jones, James Avery as Rev. Matthews, Shang Forbes as Deacon Thomas
The non-narrative storytelling references back to E.S., tending to his ailing father (Nayef Fahoum Daher) and meeting a beautiful Palestinian freedom fighter (Manal Khader) for unspoken hand-holding, seen discreetly on the Jerusalem border under the watchful eye of soldiers. If E.S. is the observer (he's too inactive to truly function as a conscience), he's also maybe the dreamer. His fantasies serve as comical outbursts, seamlessly interwoven into his mundane life. The freedom fighter transforms at one point into a cloaked ninja, beating the hell out of Israeli soldiers to a kitschy pop jingle. One of E.S.'s apricots also functions as a hand grenade, blowing up an enemy tank. A colorful balloon emblazoned with the picture of Yasser Arafat flies over an Israeli checkpoint unhindered. Any dream will do.
Those dreams are given brutal counterpoint by scenes of the Nazareth community, not following any particular character but drifting through the city like a labyrinth. In an early scene, E.S.'s father drives through town cursing out his neighbors ("Fuck your mother's sister!"). The homeowners toss bags of garbage into neighbors' yards, a Jew and Palestinian stare each other down at the head of a traffic jam, and streetwalkers wait pointlessly for buses that never arrive. All of this is handled in the deadpan style Western audiences might expect of Jim Jarmusch. Flat, carefully composed shots linger on for minutes on end, as the actors move through the frame like ants. Those with a penchant for Hal Hartley's slapstick choreography might get a kick out of Suleiman's staging, which gets off to a violent start with poor, brutalized Santa. While Suleiman's unwillingness to cut has a hypnotic power, it occasionally seems lethargic long after he's made his point. Brevity isn't part of the make-up of Divine Intervention, and the patient viewer will have to take the purposefully lugubrious (non-fantasy) scene pacing in stride.
If there isn't much of a plot, there's something in Suleiman's order that feels right. E.S. is seen in the film arranging scenes for a screenplay he'd like to write, all yellow Post-Its on a wall. It's a useful way of viewing Divine Intervention as well -- sketches that compliment one another and build from that violent opening to queasy tension, with fleeting glimpses of hope and lots of angry laughter along the way. Suleiman is critical of Nazareth, a ghetto where moral values have eroded to the point of near non-existence. Laughing at the callousness and cruelty of man, of one neighbor's inhumanity to the other, Suleiman uses his comedy as a way of digging under the skin. The film's subtitle is, after all, A Chronicle of Love and Pain.
Aka Yadon ilaheyya.