Movie Review – Salt of This Sea

Salt of This Sea (2008)
Written and directed by Annemarie Jacir

One aspect of the Palestinian struggle that I realize I can only intellectually connect with is the connection even those in the diaspora have to the land of Palestine. I can’t say I’ve ever felt a meaningful connection to any place I’ve lived that I couldn’t sever when leaving. I also don’t feel much of a connection to my murky ancestry going back to Ireland, as being a white person in the States means any semblance of cultural roots I have were forfeit for the glorious privilege of strip malls and fast food. So, my understanding of the themes in this film was less emotional than I might have liked, but I get why. This is an experience I just cannot have, but that doesn’t mean I cannot learn something from listening.

Soraya (Suheir Hammad) has never been to her family’s homeland. Before she was born, her parents’ families fled, and she was born and raised in Brooklyn, New York. With her father’s recent passing, Soraya has a considerable inheritance, enough to afford a trip to occupied Palestine, where she wants to see if she can connect with this place she’s heard about her entire life. Her grandfather had money frozen in an account at a Jaffa bank since his exile in 1948. Soraya learns that the bank is entirely unwilling to hand the money back. Through a chance meeting with Emad (Saleh Bakri), a local Palestinian, she hatches a plan to rob a bank to help herself and Emad make a new life somewhere.

One of the most substantial accomplishments of Salt of This Sea is how it portrays the schism between the society where Palestinians have been corralled and that of the occupying Israeli forces. Upon arrival, Soraya is immediately dehumanized by customs agents when they realize she is Palestinian and wants to enter the West Bank. They force her to have her luggage pawed through while undergoing a pat down and then a cavity search. She’s done nothing to stoke these suspicions other than to be a Palestinian they suspect of trying to exercise a right to return. Soraya is granted the visa, but the clock is ticking. 

Sorya and Emad also represent two very different types of Palestinians. She grew up in the States and has a different, often romanticized approach to her family’s homeland. There’s a constant sense inside her until the film’s ending that she has the passion to fight these injustices. Emad is pragmatic, quick to bend to the blows and accept defeat. He does this because it is a survival mechanism. Having grown up in occupied lands, Emad knows how unfeeling and brutal the occupiers can be. He tries to push back but ultimately just wants to escape. He shares how he’s applied for a student visa to Canada, but the chances of that coming through are very small. 

Both Sorya and Emad experienced displacement as part of their family’s history. Her family was pushed into refugee camps in Lebanon, which led to their flight to the States. Emad’s family was pushed out and forced to march into the West Bank, where they have been contained ever since. Eventually, Soraya finds the home her grandfather built, now occupied by an Israeli settler. The young woman is amicable and has no apprehensions about letting Soraya see the place and even stay there for a few days. 

It’s when Soraya wants to talk honestly and with justified passion about how the fact that her grandfather built this place is not acknowledged that her host takes a swift heel turn. Hands are laid on the phone, and the police are called, forcing Soraya and Emad to quickly flee. Emad’s ancestral lands have fared far worse. Officials obscured the story of how his village came to be a ruin, and the area was turned into a national park for the occupying force. 

One of the little visual touches that says so much occurs when Soraya looks at the Israeli woman’s belongings in the kitchen and notices a mug with “End the Occupation” printed in Comic Sans. The font choice speaks volumes, as does the presence of this item in a house whose current owner only has it due to occupation. That’s how I’ve come to feel about the “good” Israelis, who, more often than not, have dual citizenship with places in North America and Europe. If you really did care about the occupation, you could help a hell of a lot by going back to your homes. When our popular fiction references dystopia, I don’t think we have to look any further than the apartheid state in operation in Palestine. From the ever-present armed soldiers to the pressure of not stepping out of line lest you be locked away forever, these things are terrifyingly real in that place.

Salt of This Sea is not a masterpiece, though. Suheir Hammad is a poet by trade, and this is her only credited acting gig on IMDB. You can tell she isn’t an actress, though she’s not bad in the film. When she plays against Saleh Bakri, a professional actor, her weaknesses stand out most. Ariana pointed out he was the same lead actor in the Moroccan film The Blue Caftan we saw last year. It was very interesting to see him so much younger and already showing what a fantastic actor he was. This also won’t be the last time we see Bakri in this series, as he shows up in the lead role of another film. 

There were moments in the middle of Salt where I felt the story meandered a little too much. There were many shots of people just walking around Tel Aviv that weren’t really adding to the story or developing the characters. These were also unnecessary to provide a sense of place because the establishing shots we had already helped place the audience. This was Annemarie Jacir’s first feature film, so I don’t fault her for those sorts of things. I would like to see some of her more recent work, where I’m sure she’s refined her craft and tightened up things in editing. Overall, though, Salt of This Sea felt very different from the films I’ve watched previously in this series because we have a female filmmaker, and the story’s perspective is from a Palestinian not raised in the region.