Danniel Danniel and Juliano Mer Khamis’ “Arna’s Children” is neither a particularly informative nor well-constructed documentary. But that’s beside the point, given the profoundly sobering questions it poses.
If Palestinian children who have known, trusted and even loved Jews grow up to become suicide commandos, is there any hope for coexistence?
If the Israeli government, military and citizens take no responsibility for the effects of the occupation, is there any hope for peace?
With the number of Palestinians that have never known anything but war with Israel increasing every day, is there any hope for the future?
A deeply disturbing film that offers few, if any, reassurances to the compassionate viewer, “Arna’s Children” screens in the S.F. Jewish Film Festival in a co-presentation of Traveling Jewish Theatre and Cinemayaat, the Arab Film Festival.
Moviegoers prepared to confront the grimmest realities of the conflict will find much to chew on in “Arna’s Children.” The festival has wisely scheduled the film in afternoon or early-evening slots to allow viewers time to digest and debate the subject matter over a meal, coffee or a couple of stiff belts.
In 1989, a firebrand named Arna Mer Khamis — who fought with the Palmach as a teenager, then subsequently joined the Communist Party and married an Israeli Arab — set up an alternative school in the Palestinian refugee camp of Jenin.
She also established a theater group for children, where her son Juliano (a professional actor and director) taught workshops and directed plays. Her dedication to the kids’ futures was such that she used the $50,000 she received for an alternative Nobel Prize to construct a rehearsal space.
The opening chunk of “Arna’s Children” consists of footage that her son shot of the Palestinian children rehearsing, performing and goofing around, and it conveys how powerfully he and his mother bonded with them. From time to time he breaks in to describe how three of the children subsequently died in the second intifada.
After Arna Mer Khamis died of cancer in 1995, the theater troupe lasted just two more years before folding. For reasons left unexplained, her son stopped coming to Jenin. But in 2002, as Palestinians with semiautomatic weapons faced off against Israeli tanks in the streets, he returned for a revealing and stomach-churning reunion.
He learns that Yousef, a charming ham of a boy who became increasingly politicized, had rescued a wounded girl hit by a tank shell at school. She died in his arms. That, his friends say, cinched him on the path that ended in a crude suicide attack that left four Israeli women dead on a city street.
Stuck in Jenin after the army imposes a curfew, Juliano Mer Khamis’ films a street battle along with interviews with Palestinian fighters and various family members. Although we’ve seen similar sequences in news reports and other documentaries, these have a rare intimacy and insider’s perspective. Devoid of staginess, this section of the film reeks of authenticity.
But the optimism with which “Arna’s Children” began has long since vanished. After nearly an hour and a half in Jenin, with its rubble and unpaved roads, inertia and violence, those early scenes of happy kids seem distant and almost imaginary.
The film provides ample testimony to the lost promise and potential of vibrant children, and offers a stark warning to any adults paying attention.
Or, to put it in the form of a question, who pays the eventual price for the injuries that children suffer?
“Arna’s Children” plays at 4:15 p.m. Monday, July 25 at the Castro Theatre in S.F.,5 p.m. Tuesday, Aug. 2 at the Roda Theatre in Berkeley, and 2:30 p.m. Thursday, Aug. 4 at the Mountain View Century. Tickets: $8-$11. (925) 275-9490 or www.sfjff.org.