QUICK AND DIRTY: LIVE FROM LOCARNO
Fida Bizri, who stars in this documentary, is one of the movie co-writers. This is significant because Green Line is based on her memories of war. She uses a board of toys in order to re-create the turmoil she experienced in Beirut during the 1980s, moving the pieces in ways that mirror her anger and exasperation. The horrors that innocent civilians, particularly children, must endure is conspicuous. This work sets out to prove that no ideology – nationalism, socialism, etc – is worth the spilling of bloodshed. Those who survive the ordeal are forced to repeat it in their minds.
Bizri’s irritation is visible when she speaks to a man who trivialises her viewpoints. “Your mother must have put you in a fridge when you were a child,” he laughs. Undeterred, she presents a board where the action figures symbolise the fighters who tore her reality to shreds. She sympathises with her countryfolk and the lingering fear of an Israeli invasion. Later, the recollections become more personal. “Like me, my father was colourblind,” she says. “When he was told on a Saturday in December 1975, that it’d be called ‘Black Saturday’, he didn’t realise he’d be in Red Hell, and that it was best not to be a Muslim at the port where he worked.”
Bizri’s family has known bloodshed for generations. The fatigue has soaked itself into her heritage. “My country is all war and death,” her grandmother purportedly told the narrator as a child. Fittingly, the feature opens on a doll that looks uncanningly like Bizri; a figurine of her grandparent. In an effort to bring closure to the peer group who knew nothing but gunfights, Bizri is bringing this toy back to Lebanon. There are other montages utilising dolls in a eerie effect that recalls Twelve Monkeys (Terry Gilliam, 1995). This levity never overshadows a harrowing and very real story.
Green Line is a cornucopia of colours: Bizri wears a red dress that is matched by her bag, a clever homage to the blood spilled all over the Middle East. Behind her, a powerful yellow sunlight hangs over a sea-blue skyline. It raises an interesting point about beauty and death, entertaining the theory that the two schools go hand-in-hand. Where there is prettiness, there is despair, while horror lies on the footsteps of lure. A country this splendid should not fall victim to aggression.
Bizri is showcased at a number of interesting exhibits, including a protest. The objectors carry Lebanese flag, crying out for a newer, more contemporary regime. The project highlights the country’s desire to change, which seems to comply with the protagonist’s dissertation. Transformation, if successful, can and will lead to more prosperous and peaceful countries. It’s important to learn about history, and even more crucial not to repeat the mistakes of our forefathers.
The film’s greatest failing is the protracted length, and is occasionally guilty of repeating the same stories time and time again. There is nothing Green Line couldn’t have said in 90 minutes, or two hours. And yet the film carries on, finishing after 150 minutes of runtime. There are only so many times an audience can hear “no child should experience war” with complete attentiveness. Still, Green Line is a strong, captivating work that aims to ask viewers to wear the shoes of the characters onscreen. This is a documentary that runs on emotion as well as intellect, calling for an end to warfare across the world.
Green Line is in the Official Competition of the 77th Locarno Film Festival.
