THE STORY – After a Palestinian teen confronts Israeli soldiers at a West Bank protest, his mother recounts the series of events that led him to that fateful moment, starting with his grandfather’s forced displacement.
THE CAST – Cherien Dabis, Saleh Bakri, Adam Bakri, Mohammad Bakri, Maria Zreik & Muhammad Abed Elrahman
THE TEAM – Cherien Dabis (Director/Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 145 Minutes
To understand the trauma and pain that people carry, sometimes you have to look to the past. That’s the premise Palestinian-American director Cherien Dabis explores in her deeply moving and relevant family-focused epic that spans three generations of a family impacted by Israeli occupation (similar to Walter Salles’ “I’m Still Here,” which also explores historical events through a family’s perspective). It’s an immensely overwhelming film to take in – it’s not hard to see just how personal this story is to Dabis and the care she put toward the project as she wrote, directed, produced, and starred in it. Although you can feel its pacing toward the end due to the nearly two-and-a-half-hour runtime, its ancestral and cultural significance cannot be understated.
We’re thrown into chaos right away as two teens, one named Noor (Muhammad Abed Elrahman), are chasing each other through the streets of the occupied West Bank in 1988. Their fun quickly ends when they find themselves in the middle of a riot gone bad. As Noor dives into a car for protection, a bullet goes through the windshield. The film cuts to a closeup shot of Noor’s mother, Hanan (an aged Dabis), looking directly at a mysterious person (who will be revealed later) and explains in order to know her son, they have to know his grandfather first. It leads to a grand-scale examination of one family’s experience, eight decades in the making, that incorporates a cruel history that has affected and shaped everyone with, sadly, given today’s political landscape, no end in sight.
In 1948 Jaffa, the same year as the Arab–Israeli War, Noor’s grandparents Sharif (Adam Bakri) and Munira (Maria Zreik) live an almost dream life, reciting poetry to their children and enjoying the sprawling orange grove in the back of their home. It’s a mecca compared to the daily bombings in the distance, but soon, that devastation reaches them. As hordes of people begin to leave their homes, Munira and her children, including son Salim, head to live with a relative, while Sharif attempts to keep the peace at home. Soon, however, he’s taken as a prisoner to a camp, where he becomes a shell of the person he was at the start of the film, both physically and emotionally.
The weeks, months, and years following the creation of Israel have a lasting impact on this family. As the film jumps to 1978, life has changed significantly, but they hold onto their culture, as Dabis highlights through a lovely wedding ceremony for Sharif’s (Mohammad Bakri) daughter. This section of the film is the most poignant as it explores just how different Salim (a powerful Saleh Bakri) and his family’s lives are compared to his father’s earlier years. It’s most effectively seen when Salim and his son Noor are stopped by Israeli soldiers for violating a curfew, and the father is humiliated into submission and fear. The moment traumatizes both of them, filling Salim with so much shame and Noor with hatred toward his father for cowering in the soldiers’ presence. Hearing his child call him a coward is heartbreaking enough, but seeing pride and dignity leave Salim’s eyes, knowing that his son will hate him for the rest of his life, is utterly devastating.
With all the backstory that Dabis provides, the film’s opening moments take on more weight when we jump back to 1988. Unlike previous sections, this is where the film’s pacing starts to have a negative effect on the movie, as this is where the story feels the most rushed. We’re not given enough time to fully understand what teenage Noor is like, including what his relationship with his father is like years later and just how politically involved he may be. The film may start to feel overlong and bloated for some as this plot thickens and another time jump takes place, but luckily, “All That’s Left Of You” ends on a powerful note with a strong message. Dabis is able to honor the pain and suffering that her family and so many others have experienced while also inspiring hope that there may be peace and understanding one day, even if what we see on the news doesn’t suggest as much.
“All That’s Left of You” will leave an indelible mark on viewers for its epic tale and heartful storytelling. Like Walter Salles’ “I’m Still Here,” Dabis’ film will bring about a deeper level of empathy and understanding from audiences about the scars that people carry with them from years of trauma brought upon by war, hatred, and terror. Even if it tends to go on longer than it needs to, it’s a must-see film in every respect.
