Israeli Film "Karov La Bayit" Means "Close to Home" -- Review

Having recently watched the Academy Award winning American film "Hurt Locker," I found it somewhat lacking in basic political and social context. I know that so-called "booby traps" and land mines are unfortunately a part of every war, but can you imagine that filmmakers would ever be silent about NATO troops mining streets, roads, and buildings in cities and towns?

I should point out that the "Hurt Locker" filmmakers did take a position on the barbarism of suicide bombers-there's that scene where Sergeant James must defuse a bomb embedded in a youth's body cavity. But otherwise there's hardly an iota of condemnation for people who intentionally target civilians with suicide bombs and IEDs, and plan their operations in locations where civilians can be used as human shields. Moral statements and points of view do not have to made aloud in films; in the right hands, the camera can be eloquent beyond words.

At least I found it so in a 2005 Israeli film called "Karov La Bayit," which I watched recently on Direct TV's Independent Film Channel. Unusual for this type of film is that men only appeared in secondary roles. The film was nominated for, but did not win, an award of the Israeli Film Academy. In 2006, it did win the Berlin International Film Festival in the category of best new cinema.

If you're anticipating that this is some kind of soft Israeli propaganda film on the one hand, or some kind of blood and guts Israeli war epic on the other, think again. This is mainly about two young Israeli women doing their obligatory service in the Magav, the border police department of the Israeli Army. The Magav is comprised of regular IDF forces but generally attached to the police departments of certain areas, Jerusalem being prominent among cities with a large Magav presence.

Smadar and Mirit are different birds thrown together in a rather mirthless cage. Along with other women in uniform, their job is to identify and register Arabs who cross in and out of Jerusalem at the Israeli checkpoints. Neither has a great deal of enthusiasm for the task, but Smadar offers a smoldering open defiance of her officers' orders. While on duty in the Israeli streets, Smadar prefers to shop, sit in coffee shops, smoke cigarettes-anything but to register Arabs. When questioned by her supervisor, she responds that she can't tell the difference between an Arab and an Israeli. Good point, with plenty of implications.

Mirit is dutiful but timid, intensely anxious that her rebellious patrol partner will get her in trouble. While Smadar has broken every Army counter-terrorist rule and still thrives, Mirit is caught and jailed for a week for her first offense-leaving her post during an official party at a Jerusalem hotel.

A single bomb goes off on a Jerusalem street. Smadar has shirked her duties and gone off shopping so she is safe; Mirit is knocked off her feet, splashed with blood, but largely unharmed. This single far-away bomb, this understatement of terror has as much impact film-wise as the vast pyrotechnics of "The Hurt Locker."

This is precisely because "Karov La Bayit" does not take place in a vacuum. Every Israeli, including about 2 million Arab-Israeli citizens, is aware of the threat of bombs on city streets, in explosive-packed cars, in abandoned packages on civilian buses. The political and social context is explicit, though never stated, giving the film an underlying tension that never quite goes away.

On the Jerusalem streets of "Karov La Bayit," the feeling is that of an intimate wariness of a common fate. The Arabs are depicted individually-employing either a businesslike acceptance of mutual security needs or angry like the woman who thrusts her child's pita bread sandwich into Marit's face before throwing it into the garbage as requested.

The relationship edginess between the mostly female cast is mercurial, intimate, and mysterious- seriously funny at times without intending to be. This is an understated film that says what it has to say in a quiet, subtle, human way.

The single terror bomb explosion in this film was muted, far away; the scene did not require massive pyrotechnics to create the chilling effect of terror. The cinematography was well matched to the story-hand-held during the few action scenes; steady and revealing in depicting the complex relationship between Marit and Smadar who, after much contretemps, develop a palpable closeness.

Unless you speak Hebrew, you will have to read subscripts to watch this movie. That small sacrifice may be worth it to watch an engaging and unique film that reveals the human currents, challenges, and contradictions of a vibrant Democratic state in the Middle East.

There's a cute, very long held, and vaguely romantic shot in the closing sequence, where the two women soldiers in blue helmets are shown bobbing in close-up on Smadar's motorcycle. It's sort of a stoic, come-what-may kind of statement. Nothing's going to change their world.