FROM GROUND ZERO - Mark Reviews Movies

From Ground Zero, Watermelon Pictures

Follow on Facebook | Follow on Twitter | Become a Patron

Review by Mark Dujsik | January 2, 2025

There is no non-controversial way to discuss what is happening in Gaza, the current state of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, or the decades-long past of strife in that region. From Ground Zero mostly bypasses history and recent events to get at the heart of the present reality in Gaza, where people are displaced, hungry, grieving, and terrified that the next attack will kill them or those they know and love. Politics are absent, in other words, from this anthology film, consisting of 22 shorts from local filmmakers. The day-to-day lives of those in refugee camps or trying to survive regular bombing do not have the time for or interest in such matters.

These shorts are entirely distinct from each other, although they do share some connections. All of them, save for one, seem to be made by amateur or first-time directors, who have been assembled by producer Rashid Masharawi to tell whatever story they see fit at the moment.

To critique the production and/or aesthetic of some of these projects would be in bad taste and entirely counter to a key component of the overall film's impact. Filmmaking technique, like politics, would be a luxury for these filmmakers, who have to do what they can, when they can do it, and with only the resources immediately available to them. Watching the whole of this film is at times overwhelming—not only because of the stories themselves, but also because we can witness firsthand the struggles and obstacles in front of the filmmakers in order to tell those stories.

One of the constants across all of the shorts, for example, is the sound of buzzing drones on the soundtrack. It's almost a subliminal noise at first, and then, one short acknowledges the presence of the flying devices as a daily fact of life. The whirring is so persistent that the few moments of the sound's absence become more striking than the noise itself.

From where are those drones coming? That's another absence across the shorts, because not one names Israel, its military, or its politicians, and surely, some will see that an inherent act of politicization. However, none of the shorts mentions Palestine and the military or political entities acting in its name. There are vague, passing references to previous conflicts, to be sure, as real people in Gaza or characters within the works of fiction contextualize their displacement and fear within history. As for the violence on October 7 of 2023, it is mentioned once here by a woman who recalls how horrified she was to learn of so much killing.

Death is prevalent in the shorts, obviously, through works of fiction and non-fiction—such as Alaa Damo's interview with a man who somehow survived three bombing attacks and witnessed several deaths, including those of family members, over the course of 24 hours—alike. The most potent example arrives in the middle of one short, as director Etimad Washah begins the tale of a man and his taxi service, provided by a cart drawn by a donkey. Just as the driver enters the city beneath the sounds of jets flying overhead, Washah suddenly appears on screen to explain why she could not finish her segment. A family member was killed in an attack like one that would bring her short to an end.

There are quieter segments, too—apart from the sound of those drones. Tamer Nijim's "The Teacher" follows a man (played by Alaa Nijim, presumably related to the director, which is another common theme among the credits of these shorts) with three goals to perform that day. Each one hits a dead end, but when a former university student of his asks if his old professor needs anything, the man plainly states that he has everything he needs. That short is followed by Ahmed Al Danaf's "School Day," which watches a boy preparing for a class that will never happen. The pairing of these two, unrelated segments provides a bitter rhyme to the earlier one's optimism.

The tone here shifts back and forth between those general moods—such as the despair of a man searching the rubble for a family member, as the missing man's daughter tries calling her father on the phone, in Muhammad Al Sharif's "No Signal" and, in "No," journalist Hana Eleiwa refusing to tell such a story by focusing a music group in a refugee camp who entertain kids every day. Art becomes a repeated theme in the final stretch of the film, as Basel El Maquousi's "Fragments" intercuts sketches with archival footage, an artist recovers some of her work from the ruins of her studio in Nada'a Abu Hassnah's "Out of Frame," and marionette puppets confront violence and history in Mahadi Kreirah's "Awakening." Meanwhile, Ahmed Hassouna essentially announces his hiatus from filmmaking with "Sorry, Cinema," so it's not all encouraging.

We're watching people in Gaza do what they can, not only to stay alive, but also to continue living despite the circumstances surrounding them. Two shorts in particular, "Recycling" by Rabab Khamis and "Hell's Haven" by Karim Satoum, get at that specific idea, using, respectively, a bucket of water and a body bag to represent it. The whole of From Ground Zero, though, tells that story of determination, not only to survive, but also to tell these stories by way of the limited means available to them. The present and future there may be uncertain, but the film offers some hope amidst death and destruction.

Back to Home

Buy Related Products