“Let It Be Morning” revolves around a family wedding in a small Arab town in Israel. Sami (Alex Bakri), is a Palestinian-born Israeli living in Jerusalem who returns home for his brother’s wedding. Sami is the definition of an imperfect character. It’s no secret he resents this small town (which has become more dismal since he left). He’s sarcastic with family friends, and shrugs off the efforts of his old friend, Abed (Ehab Salami) to turn his life around with a taxi he’s bought. Sami’s father and mother saunter around (Salim Saw, Izabel Ramadan), and we don’t find out what makes them tick until later. “A thousand doves” are supposed to fly at a wedding. However, the meager flock the family’s secured cannot even find their way out of the cage. It’s an omen for things to come, and a metaphor for themes the film is slow to reveal.
A Blockade and Palestine/Israel Tensions
The meat of the story happens when, on the way back to Jerusalem that night, Sami, his wife Mira (Juna Suleiman), and their son (Maruan Hamdan) encounter a blockade barring exit by Israeli soldiers. There’s no explanation given. Sami has to be at work the next day or risk losing his job. The lackadaisical way the soldier shrugs at the cause of the blockade – along with Sami’s similar lackadaisical offense taken — set up Sami’s privilege and the apathy with which the soldiers posted view the inhabitants of the small town below.
Where Kolirin’s narrative (based on Sayed Kashua’s novel) succeeds is in the way the blockade closes this family in, revealing secrets, resentments, and thought-lost bonds. It also works in the way it sets up real people who have good and bad parts to them. Sami is cheating on his wife, his father exhibits patriarchal sexism, and Abed admits he slapped his wife (once), who has since left him. But the film juxtaposes this with scenes of the same people offering acts of kindness. Sami goes out of his way to protect a father/son team of “illegal” Palestinian day workers (the ignorant townsfolk refer to them as daffawi, a term Mira resents). The villagers assume these — and other — Palestinians are the reason for the blockade — reasonable or not. But when Sami’s father threatens to “kill anyone who turns them in,” it makes you question his bi-fold personality.
But the real underlining the film accomplishes is highlighting family bonds (and dysfunction) in a way that’s approachable and real. There’s some special scenes between Sami and his brother, Aziz (Samer Bisharat) that hint at youthful exuberance. There’s likewise some tender moments between Sami and Abed – where both admit faults – that gives the film a still quality. The film also has its moments of levity, such as when Abed rocks out to Sia’s “Chandelier,” trying to win back his ex-wife, or — in the film’s funniest — when Sami and Aziz blow up the car of a mercenary type-bully (Nadib Spadi) who has made Abed’s life miserable.
Of Privilege, Bonds, and Family Healing
However, the quiet sadness of “Let It Be Morning” is the way the town turns in on itself as the blockade persists. Empty grocery store shelves, gunfire, and a lack of phone, power, and water lock everyone in. The villagers talk of protest, but no one’s up to the task. Meanwhile, Sami’s brother-in-law (Doraid Liddawi) basks in gifts given him by his well-to-do employer. The commentary is quite on-the-nose, and the film makes no bones about calling out privilege. Additionally, one scene really set me aback, as Sami’s son, playing with Christmas lights, locks eyes with the worker in his dad’s house and his son, the latter who is toiled, holding a trowel. There’s a bond — they’re both children after all, caught up in events they don’t understand — but there’s a sadness too.
There are some standout scenes in the movie, and the film’s best actors are Bakri, Suleiman, Salami, and Ramadan (the latter who steals the one scene she is in). As things worsen around the family, Sami begins to admit his mistakes and heal – and others do too. A scene where Suleiman dances outside their car, with the door open, has the feeling of pure freedom. This is also true for the quiet, melodic piano music throughout the film (the score comes from Habib Shehada Hanna). The film’s ending has the feeling of a town coming together — even if it ends anticlimactically — and the true end of the film is somber and terse.
A Deeply Cultural Film — Which May Lose Some
It must be said, however, that “Let It Be Morning” paints its female characters (save Ramadan) a bit thin. They’re more or less backdrops, with the males in the film dominating much of the screen-time.
All-in-all, “Let It Be Morning” has its ups and downs. It has an abundance of family moments, mistakes, and reconciliations that many can relate to. Its cinematography is gorgeous — especially one kite flying scene — and has much to say. Its biggest criticism is that it is a deeply cultural film. I feel audiences who aren’t familiar with Palestinian/Israeli tensions won’t get — or appreciate — the film’s intended satire (this writer included). Kolirin is adapting a book whose themes — from my brief survey online — are even deeper than this film’s. In making it more approachable, Kolirin has succeeded. However, the film may find its international audience with difficulty. Nevertheless, the film still has its treasures, even if its intended satire takes a backseat to its drama – which may have been the point all along.
“Let It Be Morning” opens in NYC and LA on February 3rd. The film will then expand into select major cities on February 10th and nationwide on February 17th.
You can watch the official TRAILER HERE.
