Wajib is a pitch-perfect film, a touching family drama that’s frequently laugh-out-loud funny with stinging political commentary just under its surface. A father-son road-trip movie in which the trip is made up of tedious family errands crisscrossing the city of Nazareth, Wajib is, like its characters, full of witty banter that masks turmoil.
“Wajib” means “duty” in Arabic; in this story it refers to the Palestinian custom of delivering wedding invitations in person to every guest. Real-life father-and-son actors Mohammad and Saleh Bakri bring natural chemistry and wry charm to their roles as Abu-Shadi and his son Shadi. Uneasy in each other’s company after years apart, they face the daunting task of delivering over 300 invitations for their daughter and sister Amal’s impending nuptials.
Wajib was written and directed by Annemarie Jacir, who also made Salt of this Sea (the first feature film directed by a Palestinian woman) and When I Saw You. She brings a deft touch to her third feature; the humour crackles and the slow-burn drama is quietly riveting.
The lead characters are so wonderfully drawn by the Bakris that you feel you know them as people by the end of the film. Stubborn, moody, set in his ways, but also boyishly mischievous, Abu-Shadi could be a character in Seinfeld. But as the story progresses we get insight into the heartbreak and bitter compromise that have made him rather difficult.
The younger Shadi, an architect who lives in Rome, has returned home for the wedding. He’s a handsome, long-haired hipster. His father teases him for his alternative fashion and European tastes. “They dress like that in Italy?” Bemused by the conservative ways of his family, Shadi’s easygoing forbearance is taxed by his irascible dad. Despite his ambivalence about life in Nazareth, Shadi is the far more militant of the two when it comes to the Palestinian cause.
Abu-Shadi and Shadi (Mohammad Bakri and Saleh Bakri) deliver an invitation, in ‘Wajib’. Source: Potential Films
Palestinians are so often reduced or stereotyped in the media: as angry partisans, refugees or victims. One of the wonderful things about Wajib – especially given how few Palestinian films are screened in the West – is its vivid depiction of day-to-day middle-class life in Nazareth.
Thanks to the plot device of errands to be run, coupled with Jacir’s naturalistic filmmaking, we get a tour of Nazareth’s cafés, shops and laneways. We go inside many homes and see people’s cluttered kitchens, stuffy furniture and daggy Christmas decorations. We listen to friendly chatter about small businesses, holiday plans and kids.
Shadi and his father complain, joke and bicker about depressing features of the modern world – traffic, overloaded coffee beverages, cheap Christmas merchandise, the ugly plastic tarps that Nazarenes use to cover their balconies and decks.
There’s lots of texture and loving detail, and the film is beautifully shot (by Antoine Hebérlé). Given the visual limitations – 96 minutes mostly spent in a beat-up Volvo or in various living rooms – there are many inventive camera angles and compositions made up of sunlight and urban space.
Abu-Shadi and Shadi (Mohammad Bakri and Saleh Bakri) in ‘Wajib’. Source: Potential Films
But in giving the viewer this quotidian, even relatable view of her homeland, Jacir hasn’t sacrificed politics one bit. There’s a simmering pressure underneath, steadily building as the story progresses, that reminds us of the situation faced by those living in the Palestinian territories. Snippets of news reports heard on the car radio, offhanded clues in the small talk and unfriendly stares exchanged with Israeli security troops add to the social picture.
As the day proceeds and they are waylaid by misadventures, tension mounts between Shadi and his father. It’s clear they love each other, but life has got in the way. One of the important themes of Wajib is that in this case, “life” also means politics. The family is divided by borders as well as by interpersonal problems, and the choices they’ve made have been dictated by the limited options and harsh realities of their situation.
There’s also an implicit feminist critique in the way Jacir presents the different lives and choices of the female characters, including bride-to-be Amal (Maria Zreik) and Shadi’s cousin Fadyah (Rana Alamuddin), an unmarried lawyer. Two unseen women are also central to the story: Shadi’s mother, who left Abu-Shadi to move to the US years ago, and his girlfriend Nada, whose father is a well-known member of the PLO. This is a point of contention for father and son.
The men look on as Amal (Maria Zreik) tries on wedding dresses in ‘Wajib’. Source: Potential Films
Jacir has everything working here. There’s backstory in every throwaway line of dialogue. We sympathise with all the characters amidst their conflicts with each other; and the warm humanism and bitter melancholy are inseparable by the end. Wajib is a rare arthouse drama: one that delivers the emotional weight it promises, has real political impact, and provokes smiles and laughter too.
Wajib is now streaming at SBS On Demand:
