On Watching Amreeka
Last week I concluded my independent film unit. It’s always one of my favorite units to teach, partly because I am a filmmaker and partly because when I go to the movies, I tend to see independent films. One of the challenges of teaching the unit is choosing which three films to show. One limit I put on myself is that they have to have come out within the past year – that way I’m not overwhelmed by the possibilities and it allows there to be some context. I also tend to choose films that have done well at major independent film festivals: Sundance, Slamdance, etc. This is incredibly important – even though it rules out some great films – because the majority of my students will reject one or more of the independent films I screen simply because they’ve never seen anything like it. Their criticism, at first, will be simple: “This movie sucks.” Being able to come back with something like, “Well, it won the best cinematography award at Sundance” forces them to rethink their criticism. It can’t be bad if it won an award, right? That’s where living in a fake meritocracy can work to your advantage.
The other major consideration I make in terms of choosing the films is that they have to lend themselves to issues of spectatorship. And I want the films I show to offer a variety of experiences for a variety of audiences. One of the things I dislike about Hollywood films is the lack of diversity (class, race, gender, sexuality, etc) and, thus, the lack of truth presented. I am aware that many people go to the movies to experience something as far away from the truth as possible, but I still feel that the range of human experience deserves to be better represented in our most popular/accessible artistic medium.
So, the films for this year were Ballast by Lance Hammer, Amreeka by Cherien Dabis, and the semi-indie (500) Days of Summer by Marc Webb.
Two of my three classes loved the film Amreeka the best. (My other class preferred Ballast, which means they’re my secret favorite because many high school students couldn’t sit through that movie, let alone love it.) Amreeka is a nice little film about a mother and son (Muna and Fadi) who win the green card lottery and move from Palestine to the suburbs of Chicago. It’s a fairly standard tale of the difficulties immigrants face becoming acclimated to a new culture. Additional complications ensue because their move occurs shortly after 9/11 when the U.S. had just invaded Iraq.
What is special about this movie isn’t the story, but the effect it had on my students and, thus, I’d assume, on other audiences as well. Not enough is said about the power of identification. The school I teach at is the most ethnically diverse in the city. We have a large immigrant population, both first and second generation, and, in particular, we have a substantial Middle Eastern/Arabic population. The students of Arabic decent watched this movie in rapt attention with smiles on their faces the whole time. Further, the commentary was ecstatic: “That’s just like my mom” or grandma or whomever. And then there was the bragging: “I can understand what they’re saying without reading the subtitles.”
Even better, the glee wasn’t contained only to my Arabic students. All of my students who’ve dealt with immigration issues either themselves or with their parents identified with and loved this film for the same reasons: they saw their own and/or their family’s struggles and hardships displayed in an honest and good-humored way on the big screen.
Another area of connection, for all of the students, occurred during the school scenes. The son, Fadi, enters a suburban high school and is immediately faced with racist name calling (“Hey, Osama”) and bullying. This caused quite a hub-bub in class. For one, when teenagers see other teenagers, they get excited. It’s biological. They start squirming around and want to talk to each other, even if they usually pretend they’re too cool. The overt racism in the film resonated as well. This is something many of them encounter, or inflict on others, on a daily basis and yet so many people pretend it isn’t a problem. They appreciated that is was dealt with openly and honestly in this film, and it was one of the first things they all wanted to talk about.
Finally, there was a short sequence filmed in the neighborhood where our school is located that was met with complete and utter amazement. Something so simple – “that’s my neighborhood, that’s where I go to school” – can mean a lot. Smaller stories matter. Local stories matter. Seeing yourself, or someone like you, on the big screen matters.
What was the last film that resonated with you in this way?
Thanks for writing about this. I love watching my own children experience new things and I find it interesting to see how kids and young adults react to things they would not typically be exposed to. And you know how I feel about indie film.
It’s my pleasure. I can only imagine what it would be like to curate for my own children – it seems like it’d be a blast. It is definitely one of the joys of teaching – watching the student’s reactions to things. And I especially love showing them that there is more out there for them if they’re willing to look for it.