In Between

I don't know what "Bar Bahr" means in Arabic, but I liked the English title-- "In Between"-- less than the Hebrew, which is "Neither Here Nor There." The movie is about how its three heroines suffer from belonging neither to traditional Arab society nor to secular Westernized society. Any base that they may seem to have established for themselves "in between" seems to crumble beneath their feet.

Despite the serious predicament, though, the movie is also very much about sisters doing it for themselves. There's an automatic solidarity whereby women-- at least young women of similar ages-- are all automatically soulmates; and men, it almost goes without saying, are swine. (Well, the gay guy is of course okay and a bit amusing.) Despite those stereotypes, the movie holds interest by virtue of believable acting and believable situations. My wife says it's one of the best we've seen in recent years, and she had the chance to appreciate it a little better than I did not only because she's a woman but also because she understands Arabic somewhat. For those who don't understand Arabic, though, there's still the added benefit of a look into another culture. The Israeli press was particularly impressed that not only traditional Arabic life is glimpsed, but also the small, rarely-explored community of young Arabs in Tel Aviv. (Is it possible that they all really smoke that much?) We see a succession of situations that by no means always involve much action or even much tension, although a couple of crises do come up. Mostly the appeal of the movie is in allowing us to feel like a fly on the wall among interesting people facing interesting day-to-day challenges.

The subject matter intrigued me a lot, and there were some big, relevant topics and themes that are important and current and always worth addressing. That was my main incentive for seeing 'In Between', as well as wanting to see as many films released in 2017 in my country as possible.

'In Between' is a great, interesting and more than worthwhile film that is worthy of more exposure. It's not one of my favourites certainly but as far as 2017 films go, it is one of the year's most under-appreciated and under-viewed. Read that the mayor of Umm al-Fahm forbade the film and that Maysaloun Hamoud had a fatwa issued against her, and it is a shame that she and the film have been treated that way and really they deserve much better. Subtlety is not a strong suit, with parts that are a touch too heavy-handed and contrived, like how the characters are written at times, which considering what is being talked about was always going to be a danger. Although it might be different for others, there wasn't anything that offended me or came over as questionable.

Having said that, the points that Hamoud makes in 'In Between' are well worth paying attention to. As said, 'In Between' addresses some big, sensitive topics and themes that are very much relevant anywhere, it deals with them in a way that provokes a lot of thought and intrigue. The story, with all the various aspects of the characters' lives (like Jewish neighbour relationships, reactions to a same sex relationship, resistance to suppression and underground culture), is nimbly handled with a lot of genuinely powerful moments.

Visually, 'In Between' is deftly and beautifully shot and edited, while Hamoud directs with adept control and the writing is full of good intentions and certainly makes an impact. The music adds a lot to the atmosphere and emotion.

Shaden Kanboura, Mouna Hawa, Sana Jammelieh and Henry Andrawes all give powerful performances, especially the truly affecting Kanboura.

All in all, may not be the easiest of watches but a great and very interesting film. 9/10 Bethany Cox

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.

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.