Imagine a cinematic journey that flips the script on a century-old conflict, daring to tell the Palestinian story from within its own heart—now that's the bold promise of Annemarie Jacir's 'Palestine 36,' and it's got a lot of us hooked already!
But here's where it gets controversial: On November 7, 2025, this gripping historical drama kicked off the 13th Boğaziçi Film Festival right here in Istanbul, Turkey. Produced in collaboration with TRT (the Turkish Radio and Television Corporation), the film dives into the fictional village of al Basma near Ramallah, shedding light on the deep divides between town and village life that plagued the Ottoman Empire as the 20th century dawned. For beginners curious about this era, think of it as a time when the Ottoman Empire was crumbling, and powerful nations like Britain were stepping in to redraw maps—a setup that set the stage for many modern Middle Eastern tensions.
We get to know a cast of compelling characters whose lives intertwine in powerful ways. There's Yusuf, a hardworking villager employed by the educated duo Kholoud and Amir; Rabab, a resilient widower navigating her own path; dockworkers in Jaffa hustling for a living; pragmatic landowners willing to bend to survive; and even a priest alongside his son. Jacir masterfully paints a wide canvas of Palestinian daily life in 1936, ensuring that the narrative of the British Mandate years—when Britain administered Palestine after World War I—is seen through Palestinian perspectives, not just those of the European Jewish settlers who arrived to build new communities. And this is the part most people miss: By centering Palestinian voices, the film challenges the dominant stories we've grown up with, sparking debates about who truly owns the narrative of history.
The opening night buzz was electric, followed by a quick Q&A session where Jacir expressed her delight at premiering in Istanbul, a city whose history echoes the film's themes of occupation and resistance. I've been tracking this project's journey, and it's fascinating how, when viewed in Istanbul, the 'war of independence' elements hit closer to home. Scenes of British soldiers arbitrarily stopping people on the streets mirror Istanbul's own British occupation era, or even the French control over Antep (now Gaziantep). Take, for instance, the moments where Kholoud and Amir host British officers in elegance, while villagers endure violence from settlers—it evokes the stark contrasts in Peyami Safa's novel 'Fatih-Harbiye,' which explores the cultural clash between traditional Turkish neighborhoods and European-influenced ones in Istanbul. It's a reminder for newcomers: These parallels help us understand how colonial legacies can feel eerily familiar across borders.
Sharing the stage during the Q&A were Jacir's producers and actor Saleh Bakri, who stars as a key rebel leader. In the shadow of the ongoing crisis in Gaza, Bakri has become a vocal advocate for Palestinian rights, using his fame to amplify the struggles of his people. On opening night, he described his performances as acts of defiance, his 'bullets' immortalized on film. The following day, Bakri shared insights in a masterclass, reflecting on his family's deep roots in the film industry and his growing passion for projects that authentically depict the Palestinian experience—like passing down stories that counter the mainstream portrayals we've all been exposed to.
One of the biggest cheers went to Liam Cunningham, beloved by Turkish fans for his iconic role in 'Game of Thrones' and his Irish heritage, which resonates with many who see Ireland's history of resistance as aligned with Palestine. When asked about his decision to join, Cunningham simply said yes the moment he heard it was about Palestinian resilience—he didn't need the fine print. Producer Cat Villiers added that Jacir pitched it as a tale connecting 'both her countries' (likely referencing her Palestinian-American background and the film's dual settings), instantly signaling the Mandate period's significance. For context, the British Mandate was a post-World War I agreement where Britain governed Palestine, fostering tensions that led to key events like the 1936 Arab Revolt—Jacir highlights this nationwide strike as a proud moment when Palestinians demonstrated their vital role in sustaining urban life, a pivot point brimming with 'what if' possibilities. Indeed, the entire film is laced with these alternate-history vibes, suggesting history might have unfolded differently if certain paths had been taken.
Following the gala premiere, a public screening drew audiences who breathed in sync with the characters, embracing that same sense of untapped potential. The standout scene? When the affluent Jerusalemite Atef family gathers around a table to learn the Peel Commission's verdict on dividing Palestine—a historic 1937 proposal that recommended partitioning the land between Jews and Arabs. Tension mounted as the atmosphere of hope quietly crumbled; in 2025, viewers gasped, connecting it to today's realities. Jacir explained in the Q&A that this quiet moment after the film's action was designed for reflection, and she didn't embellish the commission's words—they were already loaded with stark injustice. The declaration essentially stated that Jews would get a state in Palestine, while Palestinians were expected to 'sacrifice' for global peace. For Turks, where October and November mark republican milestones like the end of World War I, this resonated deeply; every schoolchild learns about the Anatolian maps carved up by Allied mandates, making the parallels painfully vivid.
During the Q&A, an audience member inquired about legal threats or boycotts, prompting producer Ossama Bawardi to share how their diverse international team navigated challenges by aligning with Palestinian, British, or French identities as needed. On boycotts for supporting Palestine, Cunningham quipped about Paramount's blacklist of 'undesirable' actors, expressing disappointment if he missed out—highlighting the boldness required to stand for causes that challenge the status quo.
As the enthusiastic audience reactions and probing questions reveal, 'Palestine 36' marks a fresh chapter in storytelling: the start of retelling Palestine's origins through authentic Palestinian lenses. After years of films glorifying European Jewish settler heroism, this movie reclaims a narrative that's long been overdue, setting a precedent for future historical tales. But what do you think—can cinema like this shift public perceptions of history, or is it just preaching to the converted? And here's a controversial angle: Some might argue that focusing solely on Palestinian perspectives could perpetuate divides, rather than bridge them. Do you agree, disagree, or see it as a necessary counterbalance? We'd love to hear your thoughts—jump into the comments and let's discuss!
