After watching It Must Be Heaven by Elia Sulieman, one can say many things about the movie, its message and the reason why the scenes are organized that way. We can agree and disagree in our opinions and answers, but one thing every person who watched this film will probably agree upon: it makes you feel good.
The film is redemptive, nostalgic, funny, pleasingly symmetric and unapologetically surreal. A continuation of snapshots taken from the life of the director are weaved together with one theme: home. The film is Sulieman’s quest for home.
We are walked through his life, beginning from Nazareth, the director’s hometown, to Paris to New York and back to Nazareth. In each space, the scenes offer a layer of emotion and complexity. Starting from Nazareth, the film offers a complex and rich sceneries, such as the opening scene of the procession during easter that takes place in one of Nazareth churches. In addition, the film shows the absurdity of the situation in Israel-Palestine. At some point, there’s a scene of two Israeli soldiers driving fast on the highway, while Ahed Tamimi is blind-folded in the back seat. The soldiers are concerned about their sunglasses: they put them on, take them off, switch the glasses between them and at the end each soldier ends up wearing the pair of glasses he had at the beginning. It is an arbitrary act that yields to no results, but only proves the extent of power: I can do whatever I want even in the most critical situations, like arresting a minor Palestinian girl in the backseat. As a Palestinian living in Israel, these acts are the norm. For example, entering the train station I always get asked to show my ID even though it has zero impact on the scheme of things. The security guard sometimes doesn’t even read my name before he lets me pass. But again it’s a manifestation of strength and authority.
Moreover, we get an intricate insight to the life in Nazareth. For example, the director’s neighbor keeps coming to his garden to pick his lemons, take care of the trees, and water the seedlings. The line between personal and collective is blurred. Although, it is annoying to have your neighbor pry on your space, but it is this act that keeps the trees alive when the director travels abroad for a long time.
(taken from google search engine)
The director travels to Paris. A city that is presented as exotic, new, attractive, possible, and odd. He tries to make it there as a filmmaker, but he is rejected because his work didn’t meet the expectation of what is “Palestinian”. At the film agency, they refuse his film because it does not address the typical Palestinian stuff, you know the wall, occupation, conflict and challenges. Here is a limitation to how Palestinians can express their experience really. Sulieman defies that in this film, as he presents an honest experience rather than “politically-sexy” content.
In the next scene, we are taken to NYC. In this the scene, Sulieman utters his only words throughout the film. The black taxi driver asks him where is her from, and he replies “Nazareth”, and when asked again he says “I am a Palestinian”. This sentence forms an anchor in the film. There are many changes in setting and in faces, but the fact that he is from Nazareth seems to take roots in his narrative. Again I am not imposing a political stance on him, but the fact that the director doesn’t speak the entire film, only to say these lines reflect holding on to certain values and certain places.
The jarring presence of arms in the States takes over the public space. Sulieman is at the supermarket, when he notices how everyone has a gun slouched on their shoulders or dangling from their necks. Even the young kids have guns with them while going to school. The horror is overwhelming. It is as if the director’s attempt to escape the normalized horror of guns in Israel by crossing the oceans is doomed to failure; he cannot escape the guns even in the land of the free and home of the brave.
In a circular motion, we are back in Nazareth. To the scene of the beautiful woman in bucolic setting holding the water jugs and walking in the middle of the olive groves. It is a nostalgic return to what is beautiful, to what is familiar and valuable. It is as if shit is inescapable. We are escaping Nazareth for better opportunities in Paris, only to be met by discrimination and strong, national zeal. We are moved to NYC, only to be met with arms and violence. So we are back in Nazareth. It is a confrontation with reality. Our reality is difficult, but it is what it is. One may go to another country or place, but the reality there is also dotted with hardships of another kind.
Watching Elia Sulieman’s film It Must Be Heaven, felt like reading a poem. Just like a poem presents and consolidates an image to depict a feeling or a moment of transcendence, this film isolates scenes and actions to reflect their emotional and social value. And similar to a poem, this film contains the potential for different interpretations and emotions, that become actual only when felt and experienced. That being said, I highly recommend watching this film with an open heart and patience to receive beauty, horror and absurdity.
the little lantern 