My partner and I managed to catch the final show in the lineup at the first annual Toronto Palestine Film Festival last night. We would have loved to see more of the 36 films offered at the festival, but unfortunately we only heard about it on CBC radio on Thursday morning. Being short on both time and money, we decided to see at least one show, and that was Slingshot Hip Hop, directed by Jackie Reem Salloum, featuring Palestinian artists living in Israel, Gaza, and the West Bank, including DAM, PR, ABEER, Arapeyat, and Mahmoud Shalabi.
I am by no means a hip hop or rap fan, certainly not of the popular stuff on MTV that many suburban white kids now love to blast in their cars as they cruise the streets, the kind filled with the bling, objectification of women (hoes) and glorification of violent gangsta culture, but I do appreciate what is sometimes called conscious hip hop. American hip hop has, it would seem, lost its urgency and purpose. Enter Palestinian hip hop.
When DAM or PR sing, there is not only raw emotion and anger, but also a poignant narrative and an urgent message. Their lyrics are not about money, guns and hoes. Well, guns do feature, but not wielded by them. There is no glorification of violence here. The guns they rap about are wielded by the IOF. Their narrative is about life under the occupation. Their message is about resistance, protest, and peace--in short, about social justice. They urge kids to channel their anger, to express it by means other than violence.
Slingshot Hip Hop, a film put together from hundreds of hours of footage shot by the artists themselves under very difficult circumstances, weaves together the stories of young Palestinians who have discovered and begun to use the power of hip hop into a moving and emotionally-charged film. I am a non-Arab married to someone whose great-grandparents and grandparent were part of the Nakba generation, evicted from their homes and forced into refugee camps. I've heard the stories and seen the emotional impact of the event passed down to the second and third generation. I found myself repeatedly brought to the verge of tears, to laughter, anger, indignation and sadness.
It was a sold out show, the theatre packed to the brim, and everyone -- the organizers, the director, and the audience -- brought a palpable energy into the hall. Among the often strong emotions expressed in the film, and among the emotions visible among the audience, there was also hope. I hope people -- not just those directly or indirectly connected to the Palestinian situation -- will get the message.
Jackie Reem Salloum, the director, introduced the film and was present afterwards to answer questions. She also stood outside the theatre, among the crowds, selling CDs (we nabbed DAM's first official album, the film's soundtrack, and ordered a DVD of the film) and t-shirts, the proceeds of which go directly to the artists.
It was a great event, an important event, and I'm glad we had the opportunity to attend. The very fact that the Palestine Film Festival has come to Toronto is good news. The message needs to get out to the international community to bring awareness of and attention to the Palestinian situation. And the international community also needs to see more of Palestinian life, arts and culture, directly from Palestinians, as an antidote to the negative images mostly filtered through the mainstream media.
I will certainly be waiting for next year's Toronto Palestine Film Festival and prepare to see more of next year's lineup. Hopefully I can get involved more directly as well. And you can be sure to read about it again here. Please check out the websites of The Palestine Film Festival, DAM, Slingshot Hip Hop, and Jackie Reem Salloum, and then continue reading about the issues by following their links.
