Eu Dançarei se Eu Quiser

The Israeli film Bar Bahar was shown in the US with the title "In Between" (2016). It was written and directed by Maysaloun Hamoud.

Three Palestinian women live in an apartment in Tel Aviv. Two of them (Leila Bakhr and Salma) have more or less abandoned traditional values. They drink, smoke, attend raves, and do coke. We assume that their love lives also don't correspond to traditional values, although that is implied, not stated.

The third woman is Noor, who is striving to maintain tradition. Noor is engaged to be married to a man who grudgingly accepts that fact that she is a computer scientist, but would much rather she stay at home once they are married. Not a good sign. The plot revolves around all three of the women, but especially Noor.

Three exceptional actors portray the women. Mouna Hawa plays Leila Bakhr, Sana Jammelieh is Salma, and Shaden Kanboura plays Noor. All three women are strong actors, but I was especially impressed by Shaden Kanboura.

I have to admit that, although I'm hardly a traditionalist, I wish that women who want to cast off tradition could find less toxic ways of demonstrating their independence. (One of my friends says that this is the point--if you want to cast off tradition, you cast it off and take any path you like, including toxic paths.) I see his point, but smoking will still take ten years off their non-traditional lives.

We saw this film at the beautiful JCC Hart Theater as part of the Rochester International Jewish Film Festival. This is always an excellent festival, but it has been even better this year. The festival is almost over as I write this review. We've seen eight films of the ten we plan to see, and I've given every one of the eight an IMDb rating of 9 or 10. If you live in Upstate New York, get on the RIJFF mailing list, because some of the movies will be re-shown later in the year. Also, if you love movies, plan to attend the RIJFF in 2018.

This film is carrying a strong IMDb rating of 7.5. That's good, but I think it's even better than that. If it's available for the small screen, see it that way. It's an exceptional film.

In Between. A drama about three Palestinian housemates in Tel Aviv, Israel. Aptly named film as all three are to some degree caught between a liberal 'western' secular culture and their Muslim faith and associated family values. Laila is a chain smoking heavy drinking free spirit. When she falls for a pot smoking seemingly hedonistic guy, how will he expect her to behave when she meets his family? Salma's parents are trying tirelessly to find her a perfect husband. She rejects all would be suitors because she has not told her parents that she is a lesbian. Noor is from a very strict family and is already engaged to be married. But will living with these free spirits change something within her? A brave portrayal of oft-colliding cultures (the director has received death threats for apparently glorifying female emancipation). A powerful and original 8 out of ten.

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.

Got into a cinema not expecting much, but I was rewarded with refreshing story I think many can correlate in some way, disregarding the context of where the story is taking part.

It shows us three girls and their current life stories, focuses on contrast between traditional and religious on one side, and liberal on other. We follow them through Tel Aviv's nightlife where they enjoy being free, escaping their daily lives, but we also see them in front of their religious and conservative families, partners and friends. It realistically portraits a life of urban 20-somethings and their life choices and plans. It had moments where the whole cinema was laughing, and the ones when you could hear laugh from some, like-minded to the lifestyle portrayed in the scenes. But, I think everyone got disturbed by some scenes and were made to question how selfish can we be about our life choices and how much should we impose them on others.

Girls bring out the weight of their situations to the viewers throughout the film. Soundtrack is fitting greatly, giving life to scenes, but remaining an independent weaver.

Film is not exaggerating in any way, and it tastefully makes us conclude we all need to share more empathy and understanding.