* * * 1/2
One of the most interesting
elements of In Between is the
soundtrack: the speakers in the theater pulsated with groovy and electrifying
EDM beats, but in spite of all of the distortion and samples collaged
throughout, within the music was traditional Middle Eastern tunes. Now, perhaps
I’m being over-vigilant here, but the music was on the threshold of being
overbearingly loud. It’s as if the music itself is an audio representation of
the tug of war between tradition and the modern. And hey, wouldn’t you know it;
that’s exactly what the film is about.
(Oh, and by the way, the
soundtrack is awesome. Just saying.)
Salma and Leila (Mouna Hawa
and Sana Jammelieh), both in their mid-to-late 20s, are roommates in Tel Aviv
(the second largest city in Israel). They live an audaciously festive life:
evenings are complete with raves, alcohol, a few tokes of grass, and maybe even
a line or two of coke. Things take an interesting turn when they are joined by
Nour (Shaden Kanboura), who is temporarily moving in with them for school’s
sake. Contrary to Salma and Leila’s carefree (and perhaps passively spiteful)
lifestyles, Nour is devout to both tradition and the Muslim religion. In spite
of these polar differences in lifestyle, they seem to get along okay – Salma and
Leila occasionally try to get Nour to loosen up; she politely declines, and
they agree to live and let live.
Nour is engaged to Wissam
(Henry Andrawes), who is equally – if not more – traditional and religious than
Nour (he barely speaks without preceding his dialogue with “Praise be to God”).
He is eager to move their wedding date up, but Nour’s number one concern is
school. Tension grows between the two, as Nour does indeed begin to loosen up –
there’s a wonderful scene when she dances by herself in the apartment, hijab
removed and hair flowing. This does not come without vehement displeasure
Wissam, who commits an atrocious act as a means of establishing his authority
over Nour.
As for Salma and Leila, both
of which are being pressured into arranged marriages by their respective
families: Salma, working as a bartender, strikes a lesbian relationship with
one of her patrons (which is kept very hush-hush from her Christian family);
Leila shares a nice romance with a man she met at a party. He claims to be
liberal, but might not be so open to his partner’s independence after all.
Brought up in a society that wants to dictate their life choices in the name of
tradition, these three women find solace only in each other after their
dilemmas leave them nobody else to understand them. The dilemmas they face are
unfortunate, but the sisterhood that follows is a thing of beauty to witness.
To critique a film like In Between without delving into the
ethics and politics of the scenario is a difficult task, as the ethics and
politics are probably the most important aspects of the film. In Between is the first feature by
Maysaloun Hamoud, and I can assure you that this debut sounds the clarion of a
fierce and fortuitous new talent in this recent wave of Middle Eastern cinema.
Not once does she reserve herself for the sake of her reputation as a Middle
Eastern citizen. She sees injustice and calls it exactly for what it is.
But this kind of fearlessness
can only get the filmmaker so far before one asks “But how’s the movie?” and I
can assure you with complete confidence that In Between delivers, and it’s all on account of our three lead
women – nay, heroines. No matter who you are, I think everyone will find
something of themselves within these three women, whether it be Leila’s
extroversion, Salma’s artiness, or Nour’s traditionalism. These are people who
just want to live their lives, and how unfortunate that they are stuck in
families as well as a society that condemns any kind of independence. The
performances from the actresses make them all the more believable and real.
Even if you’re a man watching In Between, there is no gender gap to
alienate the opposite sex, and the characters can still be sympathized
unconditionally – there was a jovial yet striking moment of empathy from me
when Salma is lectured for wearing all black (man, that hit close to home).
This universality is the other key factor in In Between’s effectivity, and a filmmaker with this urgent of a
message must do what they can to make their message accessible around the
world. Hamoud nails it.
That does result in some
heavy-handedness throughout the film. I can admit some contradiction in my
comments on In Between’s universality,
because the film knows exactly who this film is for, and plays almost
exclusively to that target audience, so there’s a lot of preaching to the
choir. In all fairness, though, this is a film from the Middle East – I can’t
think of territory more in need of a film like In Between.
I’m noticing a lot of praise
for In Between’s cinematography, and
I do not understand why. I hadn’t even read about the “terrific cinematography”
before seeing the movie, and I felt let down while I was watching: it is shot handheld,
like so many other films in the independent/foreign category. With a very few
exceptions, I’ve always found this visual need for “documentary realism” – in
spite of very movie-like dialogue that distracts from that documentary feel – a
scapegoat for a lack of ideas for a truly visually interesting film.
In Between is maybe a little heavy-handed in its cry against the
hindrances and dangers of tradition, but if it is heavy, only by just a few
ounces (a pound or two at most). There is no denying that the drama throughout the
flm grips you right from the start and never
lets go, and makes that little excess weight worth carrying. The result is
a remarkable debut and an overall exemplary work of feminist cinema.
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