Poignant Palestinian drama Wajib has an important lesson for us all

By Scarlett Sherriff, Fourth Year Modern Languages

‘Wajib’ means duty in Arabic. Duty can be political or religious, but most of all it is what we feel towards those we care about. Fittingly, Wajib is a deeply human film about family and the course of life. It’s about relationships and expectations in an increasingly complex modern world.

The film is set in Nazareth, one of the holiest Christian cities on the planet; Nazareth is called ‘Nasrath’ in Aramaic, the language Jesus is thought to have spoken. The city - now in modern Palestine - is known as the Arab capital of Israel, and the majority of the city’s citizens are Arab Israelis. The characters in the film are part of the very significant minority of Orthodox Christians in the city, which comprises around 31% of the Arab population. In focusing on their every day lives, director Annemarie Jacir gives a human voice to an often forgotten group in the Middle East. Jacir gives the audience a multidimensional insight into the life of a bustling city and a minority we scarcely think about.

In spite of its setting, the focus of the film is neither political nor religious, but instead a family wedding, which of course is just as heated. Architect Shadi (Saleh Bakri) returns home from Italy to help with the preparations for the marriage of his sister Amal (Maria Zriek). The core of the film is the interactions between Shadi and his father Abu Shadi (Mohammed Bakri) as they drive around the city in an old Volvo delivering invitations to people. The car is a vehicle for the spiritual and physical journeys the characters must make. On return from his life in Italy, Shadi has a modern outlook and a modern hairstyle to go with it. Meanwhile, Abu Shadi, a respected teacher who would like to be headmaster, must keep with tradition and play the game to gain respect.

The fact that they are a real father and son duo adds to the poignancy of their interactions, as they argue over an invitation from an Israeli whom Abu Shadi claims to be friends with. Shadi fears he’s a spy, and accuses his father of using him to maintain his position of prominence. Abu Shadi’s worldview is shaped by trying to get by, whereas as an émigré Shadi’s view is based on heritage but distant and removed, a juxtaposition anyone from a migrant family can relate to.

Throughout the film they visit various relatives, something which Shadi gets tired of (don’t we all?). Their interactions are filled with humour and compassion and are about family and the details of the wedding, religion and politics merely serve as a small part of the backdrop. There are recurring statues and images of the Virgin Mary and Christmas trees in people’s living spaces. The radio occasionally plays news in the background, but personal questions - ‘Can’t you stay longer?’, ‘When will you get married?’, ‘Aren’t you a doctor?’ - asked during meals and over coffee are far more important than anything holy or political.

Wajib is a film that we can all take something from. Jacir reminds us that underpinning all politics, is for the most part, a human need for cohesion and also unprecedented levels of family drama - a good message that student activists in the UK would do well to remember. It is a film that is rooted in reality but not over-complicated. It is made by a group called Philistine Films (http://www.philistinefilms.com/), a Palestinian production company which aims to challenge ‘the creative, financial and practical obstacles confronting filmmakers outside the mainstream’. Put down your protest flags and check it out.

Featured image: Twitter/@LAUNCHING_FILMS

Did you catch Wajib in cinemas? What did you think of the film?

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