"Cinema Kawakeb" is a poignant Jordanian documentary helmed by the acclaimed Jordanian-Dutch filmmaker Mahmoud al Massad, known for his distinguished, award-winning works that have graced prestigious international festivals such as Sundance and Toronto. The film, largely captured during the unprecedented Covid-19 lockdown period, serves as a compelling chronicle of a pivotal transitional moment, not only for a tangible physical space but also for the lives inextricably linked to it. Set against the backdrop of Amman, Jordan’s bustling capital, the narrative intricately unwinds around one of the city’s most venerable cinemas, a cultural landmark teetering on the precipice of oblivion, ensnared by protracted ownership disputes and severe financial duress. While "Cinema Kawakeb" intentionally steers clear of overt commercial aspirations, its profound human-centered storytelling and acutely timely subject matter have garnered significant attention and critical acclaim within the rigorous international film festival circuit.
The Fading Echoes of a Bygone Era: The Story of Cinema Kawakeb
At its core, "Cinema Kawakeb" delves into the struggles of Yousef and Ali, the last two steadfast employees of the titular cinema. Their daily lives are consumed by a Sisyphean effort to breathe life into the rapidly deteriorating venue in the wake of the 2022 lockdown. Tucked away in a forgotten back alley of Amman, the cinema stands as a stark phantom of its former grandeur. Its peeling walls, threadbare seats, and torn curtains bear silent witness to decades of neglect and the relentless march of time. A bitter and unresolved dispute between the owners, who are also brothers, has rendered the cinema incapable of reopening its doors, effectively stranding Yousef and Ali in a place that has ceased to function in its traditional capacity, yet continues to hold an indelible, almost sacred, meaning for them. Their predicament is a microcosm of a broader struggle faced by numerous heritage sites in rapidly modernizing cities, where economic pressures often outweigh the value of cultural preservation.
The cinematic landscape of Amman, once vibrant with numerous independent picture houses, has gradually transformed. Many have succumbed to the pressures of urban development, the rise of multiplexes, and the advent of digital streaming platforms. Cinema Kawakeb, therefore, is not merely a building; it is a repository of collective memory, a silent narrator of Amman’s social history, a place where generations experienced shared narratives and fleeting moments of escapism. Yousef and Ali, through their quiet perseverance, embody a resistance against this cultural erosion, their presence a testament to the enduring human connection to places that shape identity. Their daily routines, often mundane and solitary, are imbued with a quiet dignity, reflecting a deep-seated loyalty to a dying institution.
Beyond the Walls: A Community’s Last Stand
The narrative deftly expands its scope to encompass the few remaining figures whose lives intersect with this fading cinematic space. Most notable among them is Hussein, a solitary scrap collector whose routine visits to Cinema Kawakeb are driven by an unyielding passion for Indian movies. Hussein’s character introduces a crucial layer to the documentary, symbolizing the dwindling, yet persistent, audience for such venues and highlighting how cultural spaces can serve as an unexpected refuge for marginalized individuals. His consistent presence, even in a non-functional cinema, underscores the profound psychological and emotional sustenance that cinema can provide.
Through these poignant interactions, "Cinema Kawakeb" gradually unearths the deeply personal histories of its subjects. These narratives include compelling ties to the West Bank, offering a glimpse into the complex geopolitical realities that have shaped the region and its people. Furthermore, the film explores past experiences in cinema exhibition, providing valuable historical context to the institution’s current predicament. As the ominous threat of demolition looms ever larger, casting a shadow over the employees’ uncertain futures, Cinema Kawakeb paradoxically transforms into a "weird kind of refuge." It becomes a sanctuary where memories are preserved, where human connections, however tenuous, persist, and where the quiet defiance of a few individuals momentarily staves off the inevitable. This aspect of the film resonates deeply with themes of displacement and the search for belonging in an ever-changing world, a sentiment particularly salient in the Middle East.
Mahmoud al Massad’s Multifaceted Narrative Approach
Mahmoud al Massad employs a sophisticated narrative structure, unfolding across three distinct yet interwoven axes, each contributing to the film’s rich texture and thematic depth.
1. The Observational Axis: A Glimpse into Present and Past Realities
The first axis is primarily observational, meticulously documenting the present reality of Cinema Kawakeb and its immediate surroundings. This segment is further divided into two parts: the majority of the footage is captured within the decaying confines of the cinema, and a smaller portion ventures into the bustling streets that encapsulate it.
Inside the cinema, the camera becomes a silent observer of Yousef and Ali’s daily lives. It captures the minutiae of their existence amidst the relics of a glorious past – the dusty projectors, the faded film reels, the silent screens. This observational approach effectively conveys the cinema’s current dilapidated condition, while simultaneously weaving in stories about its vibrant past. The narrative skillfully illustrates how the cinema reached its present state, presenting a compelling chronology of neglect and resilience, all while highlighting the imminent danger threatening its very existence. The peeling paint, the worn velvet, and the pervasive silence are not just aesthetic details but narrative devices, speaking volumes about the passage of time and the fragility of cultural heritage.
Outside the cinema, the lens turns to Hussein and his everyday life as a scrap collector. This aspect injects a potent social drama dimension into the documentary, firmly grounding the narrative in the harsh realities faced by many in Amman’s working class. Hussein’s struggle for survival and his unique connection to the cinema are portrayed with empathy and realism. For Yousef and Ali, Hussein’s occasional ticket purchases represent their sole, albeit meager, source of income. This economic transaction, however, gradually introduces another layer of drama and ethical complexity, as Hussein begins to perceive it as exploitative. This subtle yet powerful dynamic underscores the economic precarity faced by the characters and the desperate measures required to maintain a semblance of normalcy and purpose. The film implicitly critiques the broader socio-economic forces that contribute to such vulnerabilities, making the cinema a stage for personal and societal struggles.
2. The Archival Footage Axis: Connecting Local Fate to Global History
The second narrative axis is a powerful tapestry woven from carefully selected archival footage, projected onto the cinema’s screen. This footage spans a vast historical period, commencing with newsreels from World War II and extending to contemporary times. The latter portion of this axis heavily emphasizes the practices of Israel and the subsequent reactions of various Arab countries.
This strategic inclusion of historical and geopolitical material serves a crucial purpose: it endeavors to contextualize the local struggle of Cinema Kawakeb within the broader historical and political landscape of the region. By juxtaposing the intimate story of a dying cinema with global conflicts and regional tensions, al Massad masterfully illustrates how a seemingly isolated local venue can become a potent symbol and a repository of collective memory for larger geopolitical shifts. The old cinema screen, once a window to fantastical worlds, now reflects the harsh realities of history, making the connection between the fate of the cinema and the fate of the region quite evident. While some critics have suggested that the documentary might benefit from slightly less archival footage, its thematic significance in connecting the personal to the political is undeniable. It transforms the cinema from a mere building into a living historical document, its walls echoing with the stories of past and present conflicts, making the film a meditation on memory, identity, and displacement in a region constantly reshaped by historical forces.
3. The Meta-Narrative Axis: Unveiling the Art of Filmmaking
The third axis introduces a meta-narrative layer, where the director himself records the very process of filmmaking. This includes candid discussions about camera placement, spontaneous suggestions from the protagonists regarding the shaping of the work, and glimpses into the collaborative nature of documentary creation.
This self-reflexive approach adds a distinctive sense of irony and occasional humor to the documentary, significantly enhancing the overall viewing experience. By breaking the fourth wall, al Massad not only demystifies the filmmaking process but also fosters a deeper sense of authenticity and connection between the audience and the subjects. It humanizes the director’s role and allows the audience to witness the organic evolution of the narrative, highlighting the subjective nature of documentary truth. This meta-commentary invites viewers to reflect on the act of storytelling itself, making the film not just a story about a cinema, but also a story about how stories are told, and the ethical considerations involved in documenting real lives. It creates an intimate atmosphere, as if the audience is privy to the behind-the-scenes conversations, further deepening their engagement with the characters and their plight.
Crafting the Narrative: Editing and Cinematography
The cohesive flow of "Cinema Kawakeb" is a testament to Bassam Samy Chekhes’s meticulous editing. Chekhes masterfully connects the disparate narrative axes, ensuring they remain intertwined and coherent. The editing brilliantly allows the local plight of the cinema to mirror the broader geographical and historical contexts, all while steadfastly maintaining a realist tone. The transitions between the intimate struggles of Yousef and Ali, the socio-economic observations of Hussein, and the sweeping historical footage are seamless, creating a continuous, immersive experience. The pacing, though deliberate, ensures that each thematic layer is given sufficient space to resonate, preventing any single element from overshadowing the core human drama.
Mahmoud al Massad’s cinematography is equally vital, capturing both the evocative decay of the cinema and the vibrant energy of its surroundings with striking clarity and palpable atmosphere. The strong coloring employed throughout the film further enhances its visual impact, infusing the decaying interiors with a melancholic beauty and the external scenes with a sense of lived reality. The deliberate framing and composition emphasize the presence of cinematic equipment – the grand projectors, the reels of film, the silent screens, the worn seats, and the faded posters. These elements are not mere props; they are powerful symbols that contribute to a distinct and pervasive sense of nostalgia that permeates the entire narrative, inviting viewers to contemplate the passage of time and the enduring power of memory. The visual language effectively communicates the contrast between the cinema’s past glory and its present desolation, making the setting itself a central character in the story.
Broader Implications and Cultural Significance
"Cinema Kawakeb" transcends its immediate subject matter to offer profound insights into broader societal and cultural issues. The film serves as a potent commentary on the global decline of single-screen cinemas, a phenomenon driven by technological advancements, changing consumer habits, and aggressive urban redevelopment. In Amman, like many other Middle Eastern cities, rapid modernization has often come at the expense of historical and cultural landmarks. The fate of Cinema Kawakeb is a stark reminder of the challenges faced by cultural preservation efforts in the face of economic pressures and the relentless march of progress.
Moreover, the documentary implicitly explores the concept of cultural memory and its fragility. Old cinemas, like old books or historical buildings, are repositories of collective experience. Their disappearance erases not just a physical structure but also a significant part of a community’s shared past and identity. The film’s emphasis on human connection, particularly through Yousef, Ali, and Hussein, underscores the intrinsic value of these spaces as community hubs, places where diverse individuals could gather, share experiences, and find common ground. Their struggle to keep the cinema alive, even in its non-functional state, is a powerful metaphor for the persistence of human spirit and the inherent need for connection in an increasingly fragmented world.
The documentary also implicitly highlights the evolving landscape of Jordanian cinema. While mainstream commercial productions often struggle, there is a burgeoning independent and documentary film scene emerging, with filmmakers like Mahmoud al Massad pushing boundaries and telling nuanced, socially relevant stories. "Cinema Kawakeb" contributes significantly to this narrative, showcasing the artistic talent and critical voice within the region’s cinematic community. Its success on the international festival circuit not only brings recognition to the film itself but also shines a spotlight on the rich storytelling potential of Jordanian and Arab cinema.
Conclusion: A Testament to Persistence
Although "Cinema Kawakeb" might, at times, lean heavily on its archival footage, it ultimately emerges as a particularly engaging and deeply moving documentary. Its profound strength lies in its meticulous depiction of the people who cling to the establishment and its evocative portrayal of the fragile yet persistent nature of human connection and life itself, even in the face of inevitable, sweeping change. The film is a powerful elegy to a fading era, a tribute to the enduring power of cinema, and a testament to the resilience of the human spirit. It serves as a vital historical document, preserving the memory of a place and its people, while simultaneously prompting reflection on the broader forces shaping our cultural landscapes. "Cinema Kawakeb" is more than just a film about a cinema; it is a profound meditation on memory, loss, and the enduring quest for meaning in a rapidly transforming world.
