by michael fox
correspondent
There is enough material in “Hothouse,” Shimon Dotan’s endlessly fascinating documentary about Palestinians in Israeli prisons, to fuel 50 separate arguments.
That’s not evidence of the film’s failure, mind you.
To the contrary, a movie that undercuts viewers’ preconceptions, invites them to make interpretations and forces them to question their sympathies — especially regarding the Middle East — deserves plaudits.
This is the rare documentary that leaves audiences confounded, and in a bit of a state. You likely won’t change your position, but you won’t be as dead certain of it as you were when the lights dimmed.
“Hothouse,” which was made by an Israeli director with funding from the New Israeli Foundation for Cinema and Television, takes us where we’ve never been. Israel confines approximately 10,000 so-called “security prisoners,” and thousands more have come through the prison system in the last two decades. The prisons have be-come an important institution in Palestinian life, both practically and symbolically.
As the spokesman at one Israeli compound explains, “Every home is affected by it — it either has someone in prison, or had before, or will have one in the future.”
“Hothouse” was shown last summer in the S.F. Jewish Film Festival after winning a prize at the Sundance Film Festival. It screens Feb. 7 at the Pacific Film Archive in Berkeley and March 16 at Yerba Buena Center For the Arts in San Francisco, as part of the traveling Human Rights Watch International Film Festival.
Among its other virtues, “Hothouse” is a fair, intelligent look at the orderly hierarchy developed by Palestinians imprisoned at Beersheva, Ashkelon and elsewhere. Hamas and Fatah members are housed in separate cell blocks, with each group electing leadership, forming committees and designating a liaison to the warden.
A general air of amiability and courtesy exists between the correction officers and the prisoners, which requires substantial adjustment for any viewer remotely familiar with American penitentiaries.
Consider this scene: In the last 10 minutes of the biweekly 45-minute family visits, small children are allowed through a designated window to be embraced by their fathers. (This system is designed to prevent the smuggling of cell phones in diapers.) A prison staffer delicately carries an infant away from its father, a moment that is simultaneously comforting and surreal.
For many of the incarcerated Palestinians, long sentences provide the opportunity to get an education. There’s ample time for solo reading and group discussions, of course, but a surprising number study political science through Hebrew University. (The courses are in Hebrew, not Arabic.)
The incorrigible optimists in the crowd may see these thoughtful prisoners — at least the ones not serving multiple life sentences for assisting a suicide bomber — as a moderating influence when they’re released, and potential negotiating partners. (This is one interpretation of the film’s title.) After all, these Palestinians espouse a commitment to democracy and are aware of mistakes they’ve made in their campaign for an independent state.
The film uses the lead-up to the January 2006 elections, when many prisoners were on the ballot, as a backdrop. After Hamas’ decisive and shocking victory, the stunned Fatah members acknowledge that corruption and bribery within the Palestinian Authority cost their party at the polls.
A counterpoint is provided by Hamas leader Hasan Yusuf, a candidate for Parliament who insists that he’s a purely political, non-military man unjustly imprisoned.
The filmmaker asks from off-camera, “We read someplace that you said once that Israel has the right to exist within the 1967 borders.” After the briefest of pauses, Yusuf replies, “I’ve retracted it now,” and breaks into laughter.
The most chilling interviewee by far, though, is the poised former TV newsreader serving 16 life sentences for her part in the Sbarro pizza attack that claimed 15 lives. Her contribution included choosing the site for the suicide bombing.
When asked how many children she thinks were killed, she responds with a nutty half-smile, “Three.”
Informed that eight lost their lives, her smile glows just a bit brighter.
“Hothouse” is strewn with revealing moments like that.
Whatever one’s political beliefs — and the Jewish Film Festival audience covered the spectrum — they will be stirred and shaken.
“Hothouse” screens at 7 p.m. Feb. 7 at the Pacific Film Archive, 2575 Bancroft Way in Berkeley. Tickets: $5.50-$9.50 at www.bampfa.berkeley.edu or (510) 642-5249. Tickets for the San Francisco screening will be available at www.ybca.org.
CopyrightJ, the Jewish news weekly of Northern California