Annemarie Jacir
When I Saw You, Annemarie Jacir (2012)
Annemarie Jacir is a Palestinian screenwriter, film producer, director, and poet. Having won prizes at the Cannes Film Festival, Locarno, Dubai, BFI London, Mar del Plata, and San Sebastián, all of her feature films—Salt of this Sea (2008), When I Saw You (2012), and Wajib (2017)—have been submitted to the Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film, comprising three out of twelve total submissions in the nation's history.
In an exclusive interview with Filmatique, Annemarie Jacir discusses transforming anger into hope, the illogicality of borders, an aversion to sensationalized violence, and her next projects.
//
FILMATIQUE: When I Saw You traces the journey of Tarek, a young Palestinian boy, and his mother to a refugee camp in Jordan after being displaced from their home during the chaos of the Six Day War. When did you first have the inspiration to tell this story, and what motivated you to explore these topics primarily through a child's eyes?
ANNEMARIE JACIR: All my life I had what I call "the privilege of Palestine"—that is the ability to be there, to live there, unlike 75% of my people, who are forbidden from that. For three decades I have been crossing the borders. When I was no longer allowed to return, and I could only see Palestine from across the Jordan Valley, I understood something, or rather felt something, I had never known before. Like so many people who have been displaced, the hardest part is standing somewhere and actually seeing it; looking into the distance and seeing a land you recognize and know so intimately, which has now been denied to you. And trying to wrap your brain around the stupidity of borders, the illogicality of human beings being separated from each other because someone now says there is a line in the earth there called a "border."
So there I was one day, full of sadness and anger, and I wanted to do something positive with it. I decided to tell the story of a young boy who rejects borders and rejects being a refugee, a child full of hope and simplicity.
The film sees the world from Tarek's point of view. It's a romantic vision, not a documentary. It's also very much about feelings, a mother's obsession to protect her child in the face of war, and the moment in a boy's life between childhood and manhood, and finding his own personal independence. For the fadayeen, they are of course seen through Tarek's point of view. He doesn't really understand what they are doing but he knows one thing—the core issue—which is that they are all trying to get home, like him. At the same time, I wanted to hint in the film that things are not as idealized as they seem. To remain true to Tarek's point of view, yet to also have these hints sprinkled throughout the film—we understand the there are other issues at play amongst the fadayeen: egos,
discussions about religion and secularism, disagreements. I wanted to have the feeling as well that this group would not remain entirely cohesive.
This story is just one of millions of stories about this time period and I hope more get told. For me, 1967 was a tremendously important year for us as Palestinians. I grew up hearing about it all my life. Although that year was a great tragedy for my family, it was also a time of great hope in the world. Like the late 60s everywhere, people were going through a kind of rebirth, an infectious sense of hope that they could change their own lives. This era was defined by student movements, anti-colonial movements, the fight for civil rights. I wanted to tell a story about this important time, not to be nostalgic but rather because it is so relevant.
I started writing the script at a time where I was in need of hope in my own life, and in what I saw going on around me, in my own generation. I chose to focus on Tarek and his mother in this story because I like stories about regular people who are thrown into unusual circumstances. Tarek and his mother are exactly that, and because of a situation out of their control, they are thrown into a political condition they never asked for. And during this time period full of a spirit of resistance infused with great hope, I wanted to tell a personal story, that of a young mother trying to protect her son and a boy whose spirit has not been broken yet. They are also like anyone else in the world, where Tarek is looking for his own independence from his mother, and not to be treated like a child by her. At the same time, the adult world cannot offer him any answers to his questions.
When I Saw You, Annemarie Jacir (2012)
FLMTQ: With the exception of an encounter with tourists whose car breaks down, Tarek remains almost entirely cut off from the outside world—dwelling in makeshift landscapes, whether it be the camp for those fleeing the conflict or the training camp of the fedayeen. The film's insular atmosphere is heightened by its milky cinematographic palette and attention to sound design, isolating Tarek further, especially as he wanders into the desert alone, the shifting sun as his compass to a home that no longer exists. Could you speak about your aesthetic approach to conjuring feelings of impermanence and isolation, and how you see these themes as informing the Palestinian experience to this day?
AJ: This was my first fiction film shot digitally. The choice was made for financial reasons and I admit I was never convinced. Not only because all my experience was with film, but because I was making a film which is set in the late 60s and meant not only to critique a generation but also to pay homage to that generation. A digital "look" sounded like a nightmare to me.
But I had a change of heart. I was very lucky to have worked with Hélène Louvart. Hélène is incredible and we had a dream collaboration. Hélène's own experience and understanding of Palestine and of exile informed our discussions about the aesthetic approach I wanted. I wanted to be rooted in Tarek's head and have a child-like feeling to the film, yet to always sense the harshness of the situation, of the camp, and that he was always alone. He is in search of his place throughout the film. The color palette was chosen to reflect that. And in this time of rebirth—that of a movement, of a revolutionary spirit, of coming of age, of a Spring—Tarek at his best is like a red, wildflower growing on the side of a mountain despite it all.
Other color themes in the film are the play on the colors of the Palestinian flag which seep their way through the chapters of the film. I grew up being very conscious of those colors, mostly because it was illegal to display them, and how one could "play" with them so as not to attract the attention of the authorities. This coincides with my own political consciousness and reflects the experience of most Palestinians even today.
FLMTQ: Throughout the film we do not see any overt signs of violence—rather, violence is confined to the offscreen space, a pervasive presence lurking at the edges of frame. How do you conceive of the ethics of representing violence onscreen? For example, do you believe that omitting sensationalized signs of violence registers violence's effects more powerfully?
AJ: I have an aversion to sensationalized violence on screen. Perhaps its because I've been around violence in my life and I look for something different in cinema. I find that alluding to violence can be much more powerful than showing actual violence. When I Saw You is also told from a young boy's perspective, and I wanted to be true to telling the story from his eyes. He is a victim of war and has been forced into exile. He also experiences the humiliation of being forced to live in a camp, of being a refugee, of having to rely on others for basic needs.
It is those less obvious signs of violence that I'm interested in exploring. That pervasive violence is all around us in addition to the actual violence that these characters have recently experienced. It was something we worked with in the sound design—to constantly hear the sound of warplanes, of war, all around them—a reminder that the reality is always there, even if Tarek tries to escape from it by creating a different world inside his head.
When I Saw You, Annemarie Jacir (2012)