Bangitout.com - The Band's Visit (2008)

Many times when I watch Israeli films about Israel, I wish I wasn't Jewish. Especially if the film is a good one, like Eran Kolirin's The Band's Visit. The reason has nothing to do with the fact that most of these movies are self-critical and treat the Jewish homeland's position and situation harshly. It is simply that I can't enjoy the film as any other audience member would. Typical Jewish paranoia and anxiety makes it impossible to just be entertained. Every frame is analyzed with a magnified sensitivity that all but decimates any chance the filmmaker had of being charming, enlightening, inspiring, or any other noble objective.

On one level I am cognizant that The Band's Visit is about nothing more than human beings coping with the passage of time, ideological shifts, and language barriers. In that sense it is very similar to an epically scaled down version of last year's Best Picture, Babel. On another level I am aware that it is a purposefully odd and absurdist account of a decoratively uniformed band stranded in blasé suburbia for one night. Finally, I can't but distinguish the political context. The band of the title is the Alexandria Ceremonial Police Orchestra (Arabs) and they are stranded in the town of Beit HaTikvah (Jews). So, unfortunately for me (and the film), for all its clever writing, thoughtful character studies, and wonderful imagery, I am bogged down in Arab versus Jews.

(Are the Jews being portrayed fairly? Are the Arabs being depicted too sympathetically? Will the film only bring the two sides further apart?)

Thankfully, The Band's Visit is not an overtly political film, nor does it "pick a side." In fact, for a film about Arabs and Jews, it manages to neutralize the external conflict. Many films, while being outwardly culture specific, claim to be broader (though they are surely not), but The Band's Visit achieves a level of humanity that can resonate across the board.

From a uniquely Middle Eastern perspective, what is most significant is that the Arabs in the band are from Egypt, a country with which Israel maintains a peace treaty. Kolirin's script seems to reserve a great respect for both Egyptian and Jewish culture. The message of the film (as it was with Babel) is that if only we could overcome the obstacles associated with communication we would see that we have much in common, much to offer the other, and much to learn.

Once the band is taken in by the town (well, really, just by a lonely woman, Dena, who owns a café, and by an unemployed, hapless dude, Itzik, who spends his day loafing) the story divides into three. All three roads are interesting and diverting, however only one of the three shines.

The first and main concentration is Dena's mildly curious attempt to seduce the band's sad hearted, old guard, leader, Tewfiq. She is clearly a romantic and a good, caring soul, but her immediate infatuation with the silent as stone Tewfiq proves difficult to imagine.

Our second storyline follows studly band member, Khaled, who is sort of the rebel of the group. He tags along with an awkward Israeli twentysomething virgin on a double date. Although Khaled is a strong, engaging character (kind of like an Arab Paul Rudd), this portion of the film is easily the weakest, with contrived, obvious writing, and unsuccessful attempts at romantic comedy.

What saves the film and establishes it as a truly insightful rendering of the human condition is the least "riveting" of its three branches.

When Itzik takes home three band members, one of them being Tewfiq's oppressed, well meaning second in command, we are treated to subtly beautiful and painful revelations about marriage, family, aspirations, and being true. Itzik's corny analysis of a concerto aside, it is difficult to believe that the same brave writer scripted Khaled's matchmaking shenanigans.

The film culminates with a far too short performance by the band as they finally arrive in Petach Tikvah (yup, they went to Beit Hatikvah by mistake). The music and melodies are penetrating, electrifying, and sound identical to the melodies I hear emanating from the Sephardic minyan on Shabbat.

The film leaves us with the notion that music; sweet simple notes arranged in brilliant order, is one language where even Jews and Arabs can find harmony.