Cinephile No. 1,377 “The Voice of Hind Rajab”
Recommendation: 5/5 Stars
Plot: “Red Crescent volunteers receive an emergency call. A 6-year-old girl is trapped in a car under IDF fire in Gaza, pleading for rescue. While trying to keep her on the line, they do everything they can to get an ambulance to her.”
Review: For more than two years, heartbreaking images from Israel’s prolonged war in Gaza have filled our television screens and social media feeds. In those two years, this war has morphed from Israel responding to a surprise attack by Hamas into something that feels like the systematic removal of the Palestinian people from the Gaza strip.
In those two years, countless books, essays, and documentaries have entered the public sphere with the mission of humanizing the unique experiences of this war. Interacting with a few of them, my eyes have been opened to the sheer terror being visited upon the Palestinian people. In these stories, I have witnessed true stories of forced removal, bombings of hospitals and schools, medical professionals unable to access resources to save lives (or a complete lack of access), starvation, and a daily ritual of terror. Over the course of this “war,” these images, videos, and stories have become so ubiquitous that I have grown numb. This numbness has morphed into helplessness and detachment.
As I chased down films nominated for the 98th Academy Awards, I felt ready to move on from Israel and Palestine. Living in the Pacific Northwest region of the United States, I felt powerless. This isn’t a feeling I relish. For my own sanity, I felt myself detaching. Then, I encountered “The Voice of Hind Rajab.”
This film opens on a busy Red Crescent emergency call center. From the beginning, we understand that the voices we hear on the other side of the calls are real people. Everything else we experience is a dramatized response to those voices.
Within moments of learning that this film will be a blend of documentary and drama, text messages and phone calls begin buzzing throughout the call center. Soon, we hear the frightened voice of a six-year-old girl named Hind Rajab. Through patient conversation, we learn she is trapped in a car, surrounded by the corpses of family and friends. In the background, we hear the persistent soundtrack of war
Using geolocation and descriptions provided by the young child, those working in the call center locate the young girl. That is the easy part. The more daunting challenge is rescuing her.
What happens next is a devastating bureaucratic battle of coordination and red tape. With each passing hour, tempers flare, as those on the call and those responsible for coordinating rescues weigh all the potential outcomes of rescuing someone in the middle of a war zone.
Much of this movie takes place in a single location. Given the location of this film is a call center, you might assume the possible intensity has a ceiling, but this could not be farther from the truth. Coordinating the rescue effort takes hours. With the passing of time, the little voice on the other end of the call grows more terrified. In this gap of time, we also learn more about her, her family, and the hell she has been through. As the hours pass and darkness grows, exhaustion consumes those in the call center. Eruptions between co-workers grow more constant, and there are countless moments when all hope feels lost.
As you watch this fast moving human tragedy unfold, you might experience a thought similar to mine. Who will care for these caretakers? The heartbreak they are experiencing feels like trauma, and it feels too much for one set of shoulders to carry.
As you wrestle with this thought, a sense of loss and disillusionment washes over the faces of every actor on screen. Then, a glimmer of hope presents itself. After hours of begging for permission and seeking the best path forward, a plan to rescue little Hind is given a green light. As exhaustion morphs into relief, we, filled with renewed hope, watch an ambulance navigate war torn city streets. Watching the ambulance move on a map, we see them get closer to the ending we all hoped for when this story began. And then, shots are fired, and all goes ghastly quiet.
I will not spoil what happens next. As the credits began to crawl up the screen and the house lights lifted the protective veil holding us all in place, my fellow audience members and I found ourselves unable to move. I cannot speak for them. I can only speak for myself. Sitting there, with tears steadily streaming down my face, I first found myself wrestling with guilt. As an American, I know that it is our weapons and money that have made this hell possible. As an American, I feel complicit in a genocide. I found myself reeling and consumed with a deep shame. I still do. Families torn apart, countless thousands dead, and the innocence of children lost forever. I felt personally at fault for what has been done in my name.
Throughout this film, little Hind begs with her rescuers. Over and over again, she pleads, "Please, come! Please, come!" Surrounded by death and scenes that no person should ever experience, she talks of being afraid of the dark, school, friends, and family. As the credits rolled, I realized that life for the people of Palestine will never be the same again.
In my estimation, this is the most powerful film I have ever watched focused on Israel's war in Gaza. It shook the dust of my complacency. It broke my heart into a thousand pieces. With its blending of truth and dramatization, it delivers on a profoundly unique cinematic experience everyone should experience. I left the theater forever changed, and recommitted to seeking action and justice for my fellow human beings.
Be good to each other,
Nathan
As a member of the factory, you are taking a stand for human powered creation.
