Chronicle of a Disappearance

After twelve years in New York, Suleiman returns to the West Bank and Israel, stepping into unfamiliar territory. The film opens with this re-entry, hinting at a life interrupted by conflict and statelessness. We sense a broader political moment looming with Rabin's assassination and Netanyahu's rise.

In Nazareth, the Holyland souvenir shop becomes a microcosm of daily life under occupation. The proprietor fills bottles of water from his own tap, presenting a small, absurd ritual. E.S. and the shopkeeper sit waiting for tourists, passing time with banal chatter.

A cheap camel statuette teeters and falls, a minor mishap amid the town's quiet routine. The repeated hush of tourism contrasts with underlying tension in daily life. Suleiman and the shopkeeper continue to wait, highlighting a life of waiting rather than action.

A boat full of Arab men fishes near the Sea of Galilee, and one man denigrates families who do not share his allegiance while praising those who do. The exchange exposes casual ethnic and political judgments coexisting with ordinary labor. This vignette frames the film's blend of humor and hostility in daily interactions.

A Russian Orthodox cleric laments tourists polluting the Sea of Galilee, offering a sharp anti-globe perspective. The scene juxtaposes sacred sites with capitalist tourism and crowd surveillance. It contributes to the documentary-like feel and the sense of displacement.

In a short middle segment, E.S. rises to speak at a conference on Palestinian filmmaking. The microphone immediately feeds back, disrupting the speech and forcing him to abandon the podium. The moment captures the awkwardness and fragility of public voice within a contested cultural landscape.

The Jerusalem section features a moment of paranoia and absurdity as a hand grenade is revealed to be a cigarette lighter. The misperceived threat reflects the broader state's atmosphere and the blending of humor with fear. This turn underscores the film's ethical ambivalence and its critique of militarized life.

Suleiman comes across an Israeli policeman's walkie-talkie, a literal and figurative conduit of control. The discovery sets up later interactions with the police and the asymmetry between communities. The moment anchors the film's motifs of surveillance and friction.

A young Arab woman, fluent in Hebrew, searches for an apartment that proves hard to find. Jewish landlords refuse to rent to Arabs, while Arab landlords insist she stay within traditional boundaries. Her quest embodies housing discrimination and everyday barriers facing stateless residents.

She uses the walkie-talkie to play pranks on the Israeli police, including broadcasting a malevolent version of Israel's national anthem. The act reveals both ingenuity and the improvisational resistance woven into daily life. It also illustrates how technology can be weaponized for symbolic provocation.

In a guerrilla theatre piece, the police unwittingly participate as actors, blurring the lines between performance and authority. The scene uses absurdity to underscore the precariousness of state power. This moment intensifies the film's sense of paranoia and satire about political life.

The film closes with a long shot of Suleiman's parents sleeping, their room lit only by the glow of television. Israeli material flickers on the screen, emphasizing how outside forces permeate private space. The final image leaves a quiet, unsettled mood about life under occupation and exile.