Je danserai si je veux

I saw this film at the BFI on International Women's Day which was very appropriate. The film was a revelation. As an Israeli woman free to live my life as I please, I never gave a thought to the Israeli Arab women living in our midst who are increasingly integrating into the labour market though less visible in the social scene which is still largely segregated. The three women characters were believable, warm, expressing solidarity to each other despite their very different personalities and life styles. The theme of personal conflicts between tradition and modernity is not new. What makes this film different is that the issues are very real and current and those outside the tradition don't see it. All three actresses are very good, the script is believable and the direction flawless. Go and see it to get an insight into the lives of Israeli Arab women torn between tradition and personal freedom.

In Between, directed by Maysaloun Hamoud, continues the dialogue about the equality of women. The movie begins with an older woman waxing a young female leg and sharing advice: "Don't raise your voice, men don't like women who raise their voices. Remember to always say a kind word, and cook him good food. Don't forget to put on perfume and to keep your body smooth so that he desires you."

Music then explodes and we're at a wild, co-ed, bachelorette party in Tel Aviv with drinking, drugs, and dancing—the central characters' regular singles backdrop. Beautiful Laila (Mouna Hawa) with long curly locks and a cigarette always in hand, appears bored with this dating scene. Back home the next day, she and her housemate Salma (Sana Jammelieh ) meet an unexpected visitor, Noar (Shaden Kanboura), who's come to stay with them until she can find her own apartment. Noar explains that her cousin Rafif—Laila and Salma's absent roommate— said it would be all right. These few opening scenes set the stage for a look at the experience of young Palestinian-Israeli women in today's urbane Tel Aviv. Laila's a non-religious feminist lawyer, Salma's a fringe DJ from a Christian family, and Noar's a senior at the university and wears full Islamic garb.

Through each of the women's stories related to their love lives, the film explores male domination, male attitudes toward women, and male abuses when their authority is crossed. Although the film focuses on experiences in today's diverse Palestinian-Israeli culture, the treatment of Laila, Salma, and Noar is universal. The take-away, as the three women process the denouements of their relationships, is sad, to both them and to us: Men (or most), from lovers to fathers, just don't get it, they can't see it, so they can't change. As if cemented into their behavioral genes, the men in the film (with parallels in other cultures) believe they are right about their entitlement to dominate—to tell women how to dress modestly, to not smoke, to stay at home with the kids—or to abuse them if the women resist. Women in the audience of this important movie freeze at moments when Laila, Salma, or Noar stand up for themselves to their men. We freeze fearing a physical blow, a bashing silencer instead of meaningful conversation. How do men in the audience feel during these tense, cowering moments? Undoubtedly the same. Then why can't recognition of the problem on the screen translate to real-life consciousness about equality?

We witness one atrocious punishment against Noar by her fiancé Wissam (and compliments to Henry Andrawas for playing such a horrid role). The camera and audio focus intently on Wissam's zipper going back up after he's committed his brute crime of authority, and this focus makes the audience think how a man's "instrument of lovemaking" also serves as a violent weapon. The three women helping each other through their relationship traumas give the audience another universal: women support, comfort, and work for each other and always have, and this community based on gender solidarity is the basis for their strength—their stamina, wisdom, friendship, and bedrock role in all societies. These qualities, so deep in women, contrast to the male strength of body and physical force. Thus the movie honors women but cannot say there will ever be changes in their relationships with men.

...that's what jumped into my head as the ending credits rolled. Bar Behar / Lo Po Lo Sham packs a wallop: It's a powerful feminist film that shows us a little-known world: that of twenty-something Palestinians – from both the Palestinian Authority and inside Israel – who move to Tel Aviv to escape the confines of their conservative, patriarchal society.

Despite their differing backgrounds – one Christian, one secular Muslim, and one traditional Muslim – the three roommates stand by each other through their respective patriarchy-based crises with exquisite nurturing and tenderness. Must see.

This Israeli production about Palestinian roommates in Tel Aviv presents a rich and moving array of the quandaries faced by young women on the uneven ground between traditional values and self-determination in a modern, urban landscape.

Leila, a young lawyer, and Salma, who begins the story as a sous chef and then takes a job as a bartender but also moonlights as a rave DJ, are modern young party girls who drink, smoke cigarettes, and do occasional pot and coke when their male friends are offering. Into their apartment moves Noor, an ostensibly traditional Muslim girl who never appears in public without a hijab, and is affianced to an activist who works in an NGO devoted to helping Muslims get by. He's not happy that she's studying computer science at university, and hopes she'll stay at home to raise their children eventually.

All three women collide with their culture's - and especially families' - traditional expectations. Salma's parents introduce her to various unappealing bachelors; Leila meets and dates a filmmaker who has studied and worked in New York but turns out to have some sticking points about her choices. Noor hits the hardest wall, but the way her initially unsympathetic roommates come together for her is beautiful and very satisfying.

Although this story centers on young women, and most of the men are forgettable at best or unpleasant (save for a queen-y gay friend of Leila's and, surprisingly, Noor's father, in a pivotal scene late in the movie), I wouldn't call it a "chick movie." It's well written and acted, and I found it not a great stretch to recognize that some men and families oppress young women in the U.S. in ways that are not so different, even today.

"In Between" is a lovely and solid piece of work.

A study in tolerance and values as they clash - tradition vs. contemporary; old vs. new; parents vs. older children; male dominance vs. female independence. We see good/bad on both sides - rape, drugs (legal & illegal), abuse, lack of understanding. Families, men & women trying to find love & answers. Centered about a Palestinian community in Israeli Tel Aviv.