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Ex-Con Romance: Straight Time and Revanche

     A decade before his role in Rain Man, Dustin Hoffman played a tough-talking ex-con in Straight Time (1978). With a thick head of hair and a walk that means business, Hoffman’s character flirts with women, jokes with men, and ruthlessly attacks anyone who dares to disappoint him. Fresh off a six-year prison stint at the start of the film, Max tries to pick up a woman working at a head hunter agency. Dialogue, editing and costuming chart the rise and fall of the characters’ relationship throughout the film.

     Positioned in center of the frame as he takes a typing test at the head hunter agency, Max wears a beige jacket, crisp, white shirt, black tie and khakis. The protagonists’ attire and placement in the frame highlight the importance of his task. In order to go “straight,” Max must get a job. The woman proctoring his test, Jenny (Theresa Russell), grabs Max’s paper as he tries to keep typing after time has run out. Jenny’s assertive move reveals the woman is no push-over. Dialogue quickly signals a playful twist in their interaction. After Jenny’s boss reprimands her for a phone-related mishap, Max asks Jenny: “Does she really like you as much as she seems to?” Featured in a medium shot, Jenny laughs and says: “I guess so.”

     Though initially placed in separate shots, Max and Jenny are increasingly positioned in two shots as they converse. This change in editing features Max and Jenny as a unit, foreshadowing their eventual romantic relationship. Dialogue reveals Jenny’s acceptance of Max’s troubled past. When the protagonist admits he just got out of prison, Jenny asks: “And how long did you hold that position?” Smiling in a medium shot, Max replies: “Approximately six years – no vacations.” Natural lighting suggests the sincerity of the characters’ interaction. Max seals the deal when he boldly asks Jenny:  “If I get this job, can I celebrate by taking you to dinner?”

     Costuming reveals the effort the characters’ put in to their first date. Max wears brown jeans and a brown dress shirt with a hip pattern; Jenny wears a crisp blouse with tight-fitting bell bottoms. Dialogue also emphasizes the growing connection between Max and Jenny. The protagonist admits he often imagined a “scene just like this” while in prison. “I never thought I’d be sitting here with knots in my stomach,” he confesses. The lengthy take of Max discussing his jail time in a medium close-up showcases the man’s vulnerability as he opens up to Jenny.

     The ex-con proves he can make the most of any awkward situation. When Max doesn’t have enough to cover the tip for dinner, he tells Jenny: “I’ll make you a deal. If you’ll go out with me tomorrow night, I’ll let you help me.” A close-up shows the characters’ hands touching under the table as Jenny slips Max the money. Camerawork reveals that romance is in the air.  

     In a later scene, a following shot captures Max as he enters Jenny’s house and walks to her bedroom. The shot reveals a shift in the couple’s relationship. Casually entering Jenny’s home in the early morning after he has been out all night using her car, the ex-con proves he has all the power in the relationship.  While the close-ups and two shots during the couple’s ensuing sex scene suggest a strong sense of intimacy between the characters, their bond is clearly beginning to deteriorate.

     During their next interaction, the lovers are consistently featured in separate, medium long shots. The characters’ distance to the camera and to one another exposes their feelings of mistrust and detachment. That Max is drenched in sweat following his gun theft is a far cry from the fashionable way he was dressed during the couple’s first date. Max tells Jenny: “I’m doing what I do. If you can’t take it…then I’ll just walk out the door.”

     The long shot of Jenny vomiting by the side of the road after she hears of Max’s bloody bank robbery signals the end of their relationship. Max’s efforts to go “straight” have failed; the ex-con must leave Jenny behind and face the consequences of his latest crime.

     The protagonist (Alex) in Revanche (2008) may not have hair like Dustin Hoffman, but he does have two things in common with Max from Straight Time – he’s a tough-as-nails ex-con engaged in unhealthy relationships with women. At the start of the film, Alex (Johannes Krisch) is in love with a hooker, Tamara (Irina Potapenko). The characters are always framed by vertical lines – a doorway or the walls of a shower – during intimate scenes. These framing devices showcase the couple’s romantic acts as spectacles. This technique also makes viewers highly conscious that they are watching these spectacles.

     Early on in the film, natural lighting streams through the window while the couple eats pizza naked on Alex’s bed. The lighting and the characters’ state of undress emphasize the profound trust Alex and Tamara have in one another. However, Alex’s criminal past does influence the way he treats Tamara. At one point in the film, Alex points a gun at her face. She asks: “What is this?!’ He says: “It’s not loaded.” They repeat the exchange; Alex bursts out laughing the second time he says: “It’s not loaded.” Tamara slaps him. Alex responds by lifting her up and tossing her on the bed, repeating: “You were scared” as he keeps laughing. Dialogue demonstrates the man’s sadistic side.

     Alex’s assertive statements also reveal his arrogance at the start of the film. “Nothing can go wrong,” Alex assures Tamara of his plan to rob a bank. “I go in, they give me the money, and we split,” he says. Unfortunately, a cop accidentally kills Tamara as he fires at the couple’s car when they speed away from the bank. The second half of the film follows the disturbing relationship between Alex and the cop’s wife (Susanne).

     The ex-con repeatedly uses aggressive language with Susanne (Ursula Strauss). However, multiple long shots showcase the woman watching Alex chop wood at his grandfather’s farm. The protagonists warns her to stop coming to the farm and visiting his grandfather. “Cake, music, dance, tra-la-la. I don’t want it,” he says dismissively. The camera slowly zooms in as the characters face each other. Dialogue signals a major shift in their relationship. “Then come to my house,” Susanne counters. “I’ll be alone tonight,” she says softly.

     Their first sexual encounter highly contrasts those between Alex and Tamara. Neither character is completely naked; dim lighting and the dinner table they comingle on make their act devoid of any emotional significance. That their second sexual encounter occurs on the small bed in the woman’s unused nursery (she had a miscarriage) is quite unnerving. The characters’ naked bodies appear unnatural against the powder blue wall paper covered in yellow teddy bears.

     The final interaction between Alex and Susanne is structured in a shot/reverse/shot pattern. That the characters are featured in separate shots as Susanne finally learns of Alex’s involvement in the bank robbery is an ironic touch. Their lives couldn’t possibly be more intertwined, yet editing exposes the complete emotional disconnect between the two. As Susanne breaks off their fling, she asks Alex: “What will you do now?” Alex replies: “Stay here if they don’t catch me.” Their final conversation sets one thing straight. Susanne will keep Alex’s crime a secret, and the ex-con won’t be telling anyone about his affair with the married woman.  

Conflicting Desires: Romance and Revenge in Buffalo ’66 and The Long Memory

Early on in Buffalo ‘66 (1998), protagonist Billy Brown (Vincent Gallo) kidnaps a teenage girl, Leila (Christina Ricci), who has just finished a tap dance class. Billy explains to Leila that he has just been released from prison and needs her to pretend to be his wife once the pair arrives at Billy’s parents’ house. “If you make a fool outta me, I swear to god I’ll kill you right there,” he warns her. “But if you do a good job, well, then you can be my best friend – my best friend that I’ve ever had.”

Though Billy works hard to maintain the lie he has told his parents while in prison – that he went away to work as a top-notch government employee – the protagonist is even more determined to take revenge on Scott Woods, a former football player. Billy’s $10,000 bet on a Buffalo Bills game resulted in his being forced by a bookie to do five years of jail time for a crime he didn’t commit. Fresh out of prison, Billy naturally decides to kill the player whose failed touchdown cost the Bills the game. However, Billy’s bizarre but growing connection with Leila sidetracks the main character as he plans to take down Woods. A variety of filmic techniques demonstrate how Billy ultimately opts for romance over revenge.  

 From the start, camerawork reveals that Billy is far from being the romantic type. The high angle, extreme long shot as Billy exits the prison establishes the main character as a man isolated from the rest of the world. As Billy gives orders to Leila in the teen’s car, the two are featured in separate shots. Camerawork emphasizes the sense of detachment between the characters. Costuming, on the other hand, links pair as eccentrics.

 In the first scene of the film, Billy’s bright red boots stand out against the gray and white tones in the frame. The man’s unusual sense of style foreshadows his unpredictable behavior throughout the film. Leila’s outfit also establishes the girl as a misfit. Her powder blue eye shadow matches her low-cut, powder blue blouse and powder blue tights. Leila’s matchy-matchy outfit makes the teen appear just as attention-seeking as Billy does with his absurdly colorful shoes. On that level, the characters seem meant for one another.

 While dialogue in Buffalo ’66 initially suggests that Billy has all the power, some of Leila’s lines reveal that the teen is more defiant than expected. After the pair leaves Billy’s childhood home, Leila defends her performance as his wife. Billy snaps at her, convinced she overdid the whole routine. Leila stands up for herself, reminding her kidnapper that she didn’t choose to be a part of his games. “You kidnapped me. You pulled my hair, you threatened me,” she tells Billy. Leila’s assertive language ironically brings the two closer to one another.

 Later in the film, Billy discovers he’ll have to wait a few hours before Scott Woods will show up at his business. Billy has just hurt Leila’s feelings, and in a low-angle shot the protagonist apologizes and asks the teen if she wants to get a room somewhere and lie down with him for a while. Leila agrees, but once the two are in the car, Billy says he was just kidding about wanting to lie down with her. Leila boldly responds: “That’s too bad, because I was serious when I said I wanted to.”

 At this point in the film, the characters are increasingly featured in two-shots. The romantic jazz music playing during the hotel room scene emphasizes the growing level of intimacy between the characters. The lengthy take and high angle shot over the bed as Billy and Leila slowly hold hands and kiss does expose the awkwardness of their first sexual encounter. However, the medium shot and close-ups as the characters hug reveals the undeniable sexual chemistry between the two. By the time Billy reaches Scott Woods, quick cuts in the scene and an over-the-top, imaginary killing sequence reveal how illogical and unnecessary Billy’s revenge plan was. As Billy buys Leila a heart cookie before heading back to their motel room, the protagonist has made his decision – a romantic relationship with Leila clearly trumps taking revenge on a middle-aged, former athlete.

 While The Long Memory (1953) differs in many ways from Buffalo ’66, the film also tells the story of a man determined to get revenge on the people responsible for his incarceration. However, just as in Buffalo ’66, the main character’s priorities change once a captivating woman enters his life. At the beginning of The Long Memory, low-angle long shots expose Phillip Davidson (John Mills) as a lone wolf. Phillip has no patience for a newspaperman who enters his makeshift home and tries to ask questions. Phillip snaps at the man: “I don’t want any trouble! Now get out of here.”

 Hell-bent on killing the handful of people who wrongly sent him to prison, Phillip is often featured in separate shots from other characters. Camerawork proves that he has no interest in forging relationships with people in the small, coastal town he resides in. However, once Phillip enters the town pub, he spots a lovely woman mopping the floor. While the two are featured in different planes, they are still featured in the same shots during their encounter. This camerawork suggests that the characters are bound to grow more connected to one another by the end of the film.

 After Phillip protects Ilse (Eva Bergh) from being raped by a hooligan outside of the bar, the woman shows up at the protagonist’s house the next day. Ilse thanks Phillip repeatedly. However, the former prisoner’s harsh language reveals the man's unwillingness to be distracted from his revenge plans. “If I saw someone beating a dog I would try and stop them,” he tells her. Ilse insists that she would like to stay at his home, but Phillip refuses. However, as Ilse stands in the well-lit doorway, looking desperate and alone in a medium long shot, Phillip finally gives in and agrees to let her stay for the night.

 While Phillip repeatedly uses abrupt language with Ilse to try and convince her she cannot stay, the woman eventually wins him over. The neatly-made beds, vase full of flowers and clean table in Phillip’s makeshift home demonstrate how Ilse has converted the man's unorganized room into a comforting, domestic space. In addition to aspects of mise-en-scene, camerawork also exposes the increasing chemistry between Phillip and Ilse. Tightly-framed two-shots of the pair emphasize their close bond. Once positioned in separate shots or in different planes within a shot, the characters eventually are featured as an indestructible unit. By the end of the film, Phillip’s relationship with Ilse convinces the man that killing people from his past is no longer important to him. As Phillip says: “It’s funny. When you come to the point, revenge isn’t worth it.”

Ex-Con Romance: Sur me levres (Read My Lips) and A History of Violence

     Midway through Jacques Audiard’s Read My Lips, ex-con Paul (Vincent Cassel) tries to convince secretary Carla (Emmanuelle Devos) to help him pull off a major theft. When the woman resists the idea, Paul snaps: “Let’s cut the crap – just tell me what you want.” Carla tells Paul she won’t participate in his plan unless he comes back to the office and continues to be her assistant. “Take it or leave it,” she says defiantly.

      An equally aggressive interaction occurs in the second half of David Cronenberg’s A History of Violence. After discovering that her husband lived a life of crime in Philly and changed his name before marrying her, Edie (Maria Bello) asks him: “What are you?! Like some multiple personality schizoid?!” Her husband, Tom (Viggo Mortensen), says he assumed his dark past and former name (Joey Cusack) were behind him. He replies helplessly: “I never expected to see Joey again.”  

     The tough words Carla and Edie use during these moments reveal critical turning points in both Read My Lips and A History of Violence. Both films feature a significant exchange of values between a former criminal and a woman on the right side of the law. Carla and Edie start out as trusting and kind; exposure to their partners’ threatening ways inspires the women to become assertive, outspoken and even violent. Although Paul and Tom resort to violence frequently throughout the films, the men ultimately become more sensitive and aware of their actions than ever before. A variety of filmic techniques reveal the considerable behavioral shifts that occur between the lovers in both films.

      Dialogue exposes the great divide between Paul and Carla early on in Read My Lips. During their first meeting after Paul has been hired at the office, Carla asks Paul why he hasn’t worked for two years. Paul admits: “I was in Fleury. Doing time.” Natural lighting makes Carla look especially innocent as she asks: “What kind of time?” Baffled by her question, Paul responds contemptuously: “Time Magazine. I was in jail! Are you shitting me?”

      Multiple point-of-view shots from Carla’s perspective as she stares at Paul making copies showcase the nearly-deaf woman’s growing fascination with her co-worker. Tight framing during two-shots of the characters suggests that their lives are becoming more and more intertwined. After Carla provides Paul with living quarters and an advance on his paycheck, the ex-con makes a move that permanently alters their relationship.

      In a medium long shot with natural light streaming through Paul’s apartment, the man gropes and kisses Carla. Startled and scared, Carla tries to defend herself as Paul forces her onto a countertop. Her girlish hair clip and modest clothing convey how inappropriate Paul’s advances are. Carla breaks free before Paul can harm her. She may be attracted to Paul, but her reaction suggests Carla wants their relationship to blossom on her terms.

      Paul’s violent move has surprising consequences. Carla forces Paul to steal files that will ensure her upward mobility at the firm. Paul, in turn, makes Carla read the lips of thugs he intends to steal from. Partners in crime, Paul and Carla are increasingly featured in two shots. A birthday party scene exposes the sexual chemistry between the couple. Soft, Latin music in the background hints that romance is in the air. The camera zooms in to position the pair in a close-up, emphasizing the growing connection between the two. “Can you take my hand?” she asks him. He pulls her to his chest, asking softly: “Do we get to smooch?” That he asks the question instead of simply planting a kiss stresses his emerging respect for and tenderness toward Carla.

      A club scene in the film showcases Carla’s ability to make Paul jealous. A point-of-view shot from Paul’s perspective of Carla wearing a fashionable outfit and flirting with two guys proves that the ex-con wants the woman to himself. “Are you done?” Paul asks her. Carla pretends she doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Paul’s protective side is soon revealed as he beats up a guy who has tried to rape Carla in the club’s parking lot. Positioned in a two-shot with his arm around her, Paul says: “It’s okay. It’s over.” The club sequence summarizes the exchange of values that occurs during the film – Carla has become more confident and Paul has become both caring and considerate.

       The behavioral shifts that occur between Edie and Tom in A History of Violence take place under very different circumstances. Frequently positioned in two-shots with romantic, tranquil music playing, the spouses appear to be very much in love. Edie’s high school cheerleader outfit during the couple’s first intimate scene reveals the passionate, surprise-filled nature of the couple’s sex life. “You’re naughty,” Tom says playfully. Long takes during the scene emphasize the couple’s incredibly strong bond.

      However, Edie’s discovery of Tom’s dark past significantly changes the way the couple communicates with one another. Edie’s firsthand view of Tom’s violent behavior makes the woman both frightened and repulsed by her husband. The partners are increasingly positioned in separate shots; morose, slightly haunting music plays during the couple’s heated arguments. As Edie becomes more and more disgusted by her husband, the woman also becomes more verbally assertive with him. The normally composed and respectful Edie uses profanity and raises her voice.

      The couple’s violent sex on their staircase reveals the increasingly disturbing nature of their relationship. Quick cuts exaggerate the pain the partners experience as they shift around on the steps. Close-ups of different parts of their bodies reveal the wild, animalistic nature of their rough sex. The unnerving music that plays during the scene is a far cry from the peaceful score that accompanied the couple’s morning car rides together. However, that Edie pushes her husband off of her at the end of their act suggests that the woman may still have some control in the relationship.

      The rest of Tom’s violent actions in the film are geared toward protecting his family and himself. However, the former criminal still experiences a reawakening that may finally put an end to his violent impulses. Having killed off everyone tied to his former life, Tom washes his face and upper body in the lake by his brother’s mansion. Natural lighting and the high angle shot long shot of Tom kneeling as he washes himself suggest that the man understands he has hit rock bottom. By purifying himself, Tom clearly hopes his family will accept him again.

      During the dinner table scene as Tom returns to his home, the lengthy shots of his family members staring in his direction reveal their genuine desire to be close with him again. The tears running down Tom’s face reveal the man’s shame and vulnerability. The shot/reverse/shot pattern between Edie and her husband suggests that the spouses believe their relationship is worth repairing.

Male Bonds Trump Marriage in the Middle East

      For two films whose titles include the word “marriage,” Fictitious Marriage (1988) and Late Marriage (2001) prioritize platonic male bonds far more than they do heterosexual romance. Marriage takes second place to inter-ethnic friendships in Fictitious Marriage and a complicated father-son relationship in Late Marriage. While the Israeli movies provide bleak – and often bizarre – views on marriage, male-to-male relationships are portrayed as the most sacred, if not satisfying, bonds in characters’ lives. Costuming and dialogue reveal this disparity throughout both films.  

      Fictitious Marriage tells the story of a 40-something Israeli man, Eldad (Shlomo Bar-Aba), who decides he needs a change. The Jerusalem resident tells his wife and two young sons that he will be traveling to New York on business, but he actually heads to Tel Aviv. Once in the coastal city, he is mistaken for an Arab laborer. He pretends to be mute in order to hide his heritage. Eldad’s meaningful interactions with Palestinian construction workers and casual affairs with Jewish women prove marriage is the last thing on his mind.

      The skintight, often brightly-colored outfits of Eldad’s side chicks emphasize how frivolous and emotionally insignificant their encounters are. The first time Eldad sees the hotel clerk he later sleeps with, the woman is behind the front desk doing aerobics in a rainbow, striped leotard. Needless to say, Eldad doesn’t take her too seriously. However, costumes function very differently when it comes to the male bonds in the film.

      The outfits of Eldad and his Arab co-workers establish a sense of unity among the men. The workers are often featured in long shots staring at their curvaceous, scantily-clad Jewish neighbor while she dresses in front her window. The head of the crew has given Eldad a yellow beanie, so the protagonist fits right in with the sweatshirt-clad, hat-wearing laborers as they admire their neighbor. While the Arab workers do not know that Eldad is Jewish, these moments still suggest that peaceful relations are possible between both sides of the Arab/Israeli conflict.  

      Dialogue especially exposes the differing levels of importance between male bonds and hetero relations in the film. After their boss yells at the workers for improperly building a wall, the leader of the team states that all of the men will take responsibility for the problem. In the center of the frame, surrounded by his co-workers, he says: “All of us put up the wall. We’re all in this together.” The man’s statement provides Eldad with a sense of belonging and purpose that his marriage and affairs do not.

      On the other hand, an exchange between Eldad and the clerk reveal the triviality of their affair. The woman talks about the fictitious marriage plan they have devised. She believes Eldad is from New York and will get her a visa for the US. Eldad’s disinterest in the scheme is made obvious by medium close-ups of the man as he listens to her go on and on. When the clerk smiles at Eldad and says: “I’m going to my man,” he looks at her face and says: “You have a beauty mark here and here.”

      Although Eldad’s relationships with women are emotionally empty, his bond with the construction crew breathes new life into him. Only an unfortunate bomb scare incident is powerful enough to separate Eldad from his newfound friends. The middle-aged man reunites with his wife after this unnerving event. However, it took his fulfilling experience with the construction crew to give Eldad the strength he needed to carry on with a marriage that does not fully satisfy him.

      Late Marriage also uses costuming to portray the nature and strength of male bonds versus hetero romances. The film follows Zaza (Lior Ashkenazi), a 31 year-old man whose parents desperately want him to get married. They soon discover that he is already in love – with a 34 year-old divorcee, Judith (Ronit Elkabetz), who has a 6 year-old daughter. Zaza’s father, Yasha (Moni Moshonov) is especially insistent that Zaza break off the relationship. After all, Yasha was once forced to end an extramarital affair because his wife’s brothers threatened to kill him. Costuming throughout the film reveals both the father’s hold over Zaza and Zaza’s fascination with Judith.

      During Zaza’s first meeting with a prospective wife, the bachelor wears a yellow dress shirt, a black jacket and black slacks. Yasha criticizes Zaza’s appearance. Zaza shows some effort, but his colorful shirt and lack of a tie expose his contempt for the event. The first time Zaza meets with Judith in the film, the divorcee wears just a red t-shirt and a navy-blue booty shorts. Her choice to only wear undergarments when Zaza arrives establishes the level of intimacy between the lovers. However, that closeness is shattered when Zaza’s parents discover his secret relationship.

      When Zaza’s parents and family friends make a surprise visit while the lovers are at Judith’s place, costuming is crucial. Yasha and his crony wear all black – foreshadowing the period of mourning that ensues after Zaza’s relationship is destroyed. Zaza wears a blue t-shirt and khakis – he looks boyish, happy and at ease with his girlfriend. Judith wears a striped shirt and pattern skirt – her eclectic style reflects her offbeat, assertive personality. Unfortunately, the parents’ dark clothing and dark intentions win out. Zaza keeps his family and loses his soulmate. However, the young man’s yellow bow tie at his wedding (to a simple, attractive girl) is a small sign of defiance. He has never fully recovered from his loss, and he wants his parents to know it. Unfortunately, the father’s crisp shirt and suit reveal that he won’t budge on the issue – Yasha is ecstatic that his son has finally tied the knot with a "good woman."

      Dialogue between women in the film adds a bizarre element to the otherwise somber view of marriage throughout the movie. Early on in the film, a family friend provides Zaza’s mother with a gift that is bound to win Zaza a bride. “The foreskin of an eight-day-old baby boy,” the woman says excitedly as she holds a small doll. “This is responsible for all the marriages in Haifa!”

      The exchange suggests that the courtship process is just as absurd and meaningless as marriage itself. That Zaza’s fate may rest on a piece of foreskin proves how ridiculous his parents’ demands are. Yet even on Zaza’s wedding day, his relationship with his father continues to hinder Zaza’s free will. The 30-something has already lost the opportunity to marry the woman he really loves. But still, Zaza's father asks more of him. “Next year I want a grandson,” Yasha says. “You’ve put us through enough.”  

Acting on Impulse vs. Respecting Tradition: Complicated Courtship in Jaffa and Lemon Tree

           The female protagonists in Jaffa (2009) and Lemon Tree (2008) may differ in terms of religion, ethnicity and age, but both women have something in common: major obstacles stand in the way of their desired relationships. In the case of Jaffa, religion and ethnicity prevent Mali, a young Jewish woman, from marrying her Palestinian boyfriend.  In Lemon Tree, age differences and marital standing are significant hurdles separating 40-something widow Salma from her 30-something lawyer, Ziad. While both movies explore the subject of complicated courtship, Jaffa and Lemon Tree employ different filmic techniques to reveal how severe the obstacles are that affect each relationship.  

            Lemon Tree makes use costumes and props to explore the changing nature of the relationship between Salma and Ziad. At the beginning of the film, Salma dresses in a very conservative manner. She wears long, dumpy dresses and a headscarf. After all, Salma seeks Ziad’s legal assistance for a very serious purpose: her neighbor, the Defense Minister of Israeli, has ordered that Salma’s lemon grove be cut down in order to prevent terrorists from attacking his house from Salma’s orchard. The Palestinian woman inherited the grove from her late father and will not allow her trees to be cut down. Needless to say, Salma’s first meeting with Ziad is as unromantic as it gets.

            The lawyer’s desk is covered with stacks of paper; he eats slimy sardines from a can and offers Salma a taste. The woman politely declines. However, the lengthy takes during the shot/reverse/shot sequence between them suggest that the widow and the lawyer are intrigued by one another. As the film progresses, costume choices reveal how the two grow closer. One night after they’ve had a few meetings, Ziad knocks on her door when soldiers won’t let him back into town due to a curfew restriction. The nightgown-clad Salma realizes that Ziad is at the door and purposefully decides not to wear her headscarf.

             Her decision not only defies cultural norms, but also it suggests her growing sense of intimacy with Ziad. The two are repeatedly featured in medium shots during the scene, a technique that displays them as a unit separate from the outside world. The close-up of Ziad stroking Salma’s hand proves that their relationship is at its peak. Later in the film, Salma is shown applying lipstick and adjusting her fashionable and brightly-colored attire. Her stylish appearance signals her desire to have Ziad find her attractive. The young lawyer clearly takes notice of her efforts when he checks out her courtroom attire and says: “You look stunning. Enough to drive a guy crazy.”

            While costumes showcase Salma and Ziad’s growing interest in one another, the use of photographs in the film emphasizes the obstacles standing in their way. A large picture of Salma’s disgruntled-looking late husband stares Ziad down everytime the lawyer enters the widow’s home. Close-ups of photos in Ziad’s office of his wife and daughter from Moscow emphasize where the man’s loyalty should lie. Finally, Salma’s act of burning a newspaper clipping of Ziad’s engagement to another woman is significant. The older woman decides to remain a respected widow rather than engage in a torrid affair with a fickle attorney.

            Though Jaffa also makes use of costumes and props to comment on the nature of a relationship, this film especially takes advantage of editing and cinematography to showcase the obstacles the potential partners face. Whereas Salma and Ziad often appear in the same shots in Lemon Tree, Mali and Toufik are usually positioned in separate shots. Shot/reverse/shot patterns suggest a great divide exists between them. The on-going conflict between Jews and Arabs is so severe that Mali and Toufik have more difficulty escaping into their own universe than Salma and Ziad do in Lemon Tree. Extreme close-ups on the two farewell letters that Mali writes during the film emphasize the controversial nature of the young lovers’ relationship. In order to keep her family, Mali must shatter her relationship with Toufik. In order to be with Toufik, Mali must give up her family. The extreme close-up on the approval letter for Mali’s abortion puts into perspective the intense decisions the young woman must make as she chooses between her soul mate and her parents.  

            Costumes and props also suggest the divisive nature of Mali’s relationship. The two duffel bags initially serve as a symbol of hope for the couple. Mali’s face is glowing as she packs her bag; she smiles as she clutches a white dress that she’ll presumably wear on her wedding day. However, the fact that the only place to hide the packed duffel bags is under the filthy mattress in a side room of the father’s car shop hints that Mali’s elopement won’t be easy or glamorous. Not surprisingly, the duffel bags eventually symbolize lost opportunities. When Mali must hide the evidence that she and Toufik tried to run away, the young woman has no other option but to chuck the bags into a dumpster.

           However, when Toufik contacts Mali again after his prison stint, it becomes clear that the now-thirty year-old woman misses her childhood love. Camerawork reveals Mali’s desire to see Toufik again. The woman is positioned in a medium shot with her back to the camera as she speaks to Toufik on the phone while they plan a meeting place. That Mali is turned away from both her parents and viewers suggests that the single mom is ready to act on her own impulses and finally stand up to her parents.

Music and Mise en Scene: Jewish/Arab Relations in The Band’s Visit

In The Band’s Visit, the dashingly handsome Haled has a rather unusual pick-up line. The young Arab man repeatedly approaches attractive, unassuming Israeli women and says: “Do you like Chet Baker?” Smiling and looking seductive, Haled usually responds to the women’s confused expressions by introducing himself. “I play violin in orchestra,” he says. “But I play trumpet also.”

            Haled’s shameless flirtations with Israeli women suggest that political and religious differences don’t prevent all Arabs and Jews from interacting with one another. In fact, The Band’s Visit reveals just how much Jews and Arabs – and all people, for that matter – have in common. Eran Kolirin’s 2007 Israeli film follows an Egyptian police band as it heads to Israel to play at the opening of an Arab cultural center. A mishap involving the spelling of their destination leads the Egyptian musicians to a tiny, remote town far from where they’ll be performing. The band’s interactions with the Israelis who take them in reveal how both sides of the Arab/Israeli conflict experience love and loss (and music).

            While the film’s plot sounds simple enough, The Band’s Visit offers sharp and thoughtful dialogue, refreshing comedic touches and authentic performances that make the movie anything but hokey. And as if those weren’t enough reasons for me to like the film, the character Tawfiq (Sasson Gabei) has the most righteous, take-no-prisoners nose I have ever seen in my life. It frankly deserves a movie of its own.

            That said, the use of music and aspects of mise en scene are what make this movie an especially noteworthy study of Jewish/Arab relations. The melodramatic piano theme that plays as the Egyptian band arrives at the airport at the start of the film is a very smart, ironic touch. These men look so serious and put-together in their matching, powder blue, highly-decorated police uniforms. The sappy, simplistic piano melody in the background makes the band members seem over-dressed and out of place.

The next instance when sound becomes particularly important is when the musicians get off the bus at Beit Hatikva (not Petah Tikva). The wheels of their luggage roll loudly (and obnoxiously) against the sand and dirt as they approach the small town. The extreme long shot of the men walking on sand adds insult to injury – they’re in the middle of nowhere and the camera is rubbing it in. The way the men fill the frame in this scene is also significant. They walk in a straight line in the center of the frame, an ironic touch since the no-man’s-land of Beit Hatikva is a far cry from the rules and regulations that dominate their police force in Alexandria. 

            Music is used for the first time as a unifying device – and not for mocking purposes – when Egyptian musician Simon plays his clarinet outside of the Beit Hativka café. Simon’s haunting melody plays out over a shot/reverse/shot pattern of the Egyptian man producing music as a Jewish man, Itzik, watches in awe. The medium shot of the two men after the impromptu performance reveals that music is a shared passion for these lonely souls. Music becomes an especially strong unifying force during an awkward dinner table scene in which a few of the Egyptian musicians dine with Itzik’s family on his wife’s birthday. Silence and scattered conversations in Arabic and Hebrew fill the scene until one of the men starts humming and the other men slowly join in him song. Medium close-ups ensue as each man gains the courage to belt out the tune. The close proximity between the camera and the men’s faces reflects how the men are becoming closer with one another.

            Costuming plays an important role throughout The Band’s Visit. The way Dina (Ronit Elkabetz) is dressed reveals a lot about her level of interest in the Egyptian men. At the start of the film, Dina’s loose, blue sweater, cut-off jeans and tennis shoes suggest the spinster is more concerned with comfort than style. Dina wears this outfit as she cuts open a huge watermelon in front of Haled and Tawfiq. As the Israeli woman skillfully uses an enormous knife, a reaction shot of the two men prove they are impressed and possibly a bit scared. These aspects of mise en scene emphasize Dina’s courage and determination. However, the red evening dress Dina wears to show Tawfiq the town reveals her sexy side. The form-fitting dress clearly catches Tawfiq’s eye, stressing that Arabs and Jews can be attracted to each other despite the many issues that may separate them. That the uptight, conservative Tawfiq admits Dina looks “very fine indeed” is evidence that Arabs and Jews may not be so divided after all.

            A significant use of music happens while Dina and Tawfiq are eating out. After they discuss how other patrons have been staring at them, Dina decides to play an Arabic love song on the jukebox. Because Dina and Tawfiq have been speaking English to each other throughout the film, the woman’s choice of an Arabic song showcases her willingness to understand his culture. As the female singer clearly calls out to a lover, Dina dances in front of Tawfiq. Without his hat – which Dina forced him to leave behind – Tawfiq looks much more at ease and receptive to her advances.

            A final powerful musical moment occurs when Haled plays a trumpet solo for Tawfiq and Dina. The close-ups on their faces as Haled plays his sultry trumpet solo emphasize the feelings of sexual desire that consume Dina and Tawfiq. However, Haled’s position at the table – sitting directly between Dina and Tawfiq – suggests that Dina may not be spending the night with Tawfiq after all. Even without his stiff hat, Tawfiq is no match for Haled’s charm.