MAHDI FlEIFIl had no idea that the tradition he had taken over from his father — of filming almost everything — would end up giving him worldwide critical acclaim. His much feted documentary The World Is Not Ours has been in the news for the peep it gives into the life and times of a Palestinian refugee camp in West Asia. He records life through filming his family members during his annual holiday visits to this camp. He replied to queries by MEENAKSHI RAO on the situation now and the perils of anguish while seeing a conflict zone so up close
Your footage is gathered over a long period of time. When did you exactly start filming with this documentary in mindIJ What prompted the title of your documentaryIJ
In the summer of 2010, I went to the camp to research for a fiction feature, an adaptation of Spike lee’s Do The Right Thing, set around my uncle’s sports shop during the 1994 World Cup. I shot for weeks on end and collected my father’s old VHS tapes from around that time. On returning to london, I sat down with my editor to cut a teaser and realised I actually had everything I needed to tell the story I had wanted to tell all along — the reality would be far more satisfying than fiction. From then on, it was just a case of finding the story amongst all those hundreds of hours of footage. The title is borrowed from Ghassan Kanafani’s short story collection of the same name.
Palestinian cinema has been under constant siege and banned in occupation areasIJ Your view on the impact it has made worldwide and how it needs to progressIJ
I don’t know much about Palestinian cinema and wouldn’t like to speak up as an advocate for a particular cinema. I’m not much for ‘national’ cinemas — cinema is universal and has the ability to communicate experiences trans-nationally.
How difficult is the situation at Ain El Hel-weh, your home camp where you have filmed the documentaryIJ
Pretty difficult, much the way I portray it in the film.
The film goes through many emotions, mostly of despair. How did this impact you personally and do you think there is a future for the besieged people of your area, especially when there are job restrictions and raids happening through generationsIJ
From a personal perspective, I don’t see a lot of hope, especially for the refugees. They are pawns in a bigger game, a demographic threat to Israel and something to be traded. What I would like to see is a country where both people could live together with justice and peace. To me this would be a more realistic solution than to keep talking of a ‘two-State-solution’, which in essence is merely a Kafkaesque term, a way to keep ‘kicking the can’ down the road and postpone peace.
What’s home to youIJ As a film-maker how does Palestinian politics impact youIJ
I’ve struggled since making this film to keep the line between film-maker and politician very clear. I’m not interested in politics, and I don’t believe in politicians. I try to connect with the human side of things, the stories that we don’t hear or see in the media and news. Home is where work is. At the moment, I am working in Amsterdam and so this is my home, for now.
Which films/documentaries/directors from Palestine have impacted youIJ
I like Fertile Memory by Michel Khleifi and I recently enjoyed watching The Infiltrators. In terms of impact, I think I’m more influenced by literature and music, but if there is a particular cinema, I would say New Yorkers — filmmakers from NY.
What response have you got for your brilliant filmIJ
I would have loved for it to get more exposure in the US. Despite the fact that it has done so well at festivals, even some US festivals, it has been very hard to break through the barriers of ‘Oh, here is just another Palestinian film’. And our film is not that, it’s just a film about family, memory, childhood, and friendship. It’s about more universal things than merely a political situation.