At this year’s Berlinale, the competition for the Berlinale Documentary Award proved especially fierce, with documentaries claiming top honours in multiple categories. Dahomey and Direct Action secured the highest accolades from the Competition and Encounters juries, respectively. Yet, it was No Other Land—a collaborative work by Basel Adra, Hamdan Ballal, Yuval Abraham, and Rachel Szor—that ultimately won the independent jury’s top prize, solidifying its place as a standout in this year’s festival. While No Other Land stands firmly on its own merit, the aftermath of its win exposes the deeply entrenched flaws within the film festival system.
No Other Land chronicles the relentless struggle of the Palestinian community of Masafer Yatta in the West Bank against decades of demolition and forced eviction by the Israeli army. Filmed between 2019 and 2023, it captures the daily injustices faced by the community, from the destruction of homes and schools to systemic restrictions, state violence, and settler aggression. Residents alternate between rebuilding at night and living in caves as bulldozers return daily to raze their progress. The film reflects on the cyclical nature of violence and the resilience of a people fighting to preserve their homeland.
The documentary unfolds through seasonal chapters, combining handheld immediacy with archival footage. Basel Adra, the film’s narrator and one of its directors, shares his personal connection to the story as a Palestinian activist, recalling his family’s legacy of resistance. Collaborating with Yuval Abraham, an Israeli journalist, Adra engages in candid, often tense conversations about allyship under occupation, underscoring the stark contrasts in their lived realities. This dynamic, mirrored in discussions with co-director Hamdan Ballal, questions the limitations of solidarity and reflects the privileges offered by power.
The documentary also highlights the tragic story of Harun Abu Aram, a young man paralysed after being shot by Israeli forces. His suffering, alongside the enduring courage of Masafer Yatta’s residents, embodies the resilience and suffering that the film seeks to draw international attention to.
While No Other Land avoids bothsidesism, its existence raises complex questions about the dynamics of power, representation, and recognition in global cinema. Critics have called the film “timely” in light of the ongoing Israeli-Palestinian conflict, but this very framing points to a troubling reality: had these events not coincided with recent crises, the documentary might have been overlooked or fleetingly celebrated before fading into obscurity.
Despite its critical acclaim, No Other Land underscores the pervasive inequalities in cultural spaces. While the film was selected by a major programming team for one of the world’s most prestigious and politically engaging festivals, it still benefits from a combination of factors that make it an “ethically perfect” choice for such platforms: it was completed before the Hamas attack, focuses on the West Bank, and features an Israeli-Palestinian collaboration, with half of its directorial team—Yuval Abraham and Rachel Szor—being Israeli. It never crosses any red line. This context raises pressing questions: Would No Other Land have garnered the same recognition if it had been directed solely by Palestinians, excluded its Israeli collaborators, or incorporated footage of events following the October 7 attack?
Yet, even that doesn’t exempt it from absurd attacks. The controversy surrounding Claudia Roth, Germany’s Minister of State for Culture, who felt compelled to clarify that her applause during the acceptance speech was directed solely at Abraham, speaks volumes about the realities of so-called “open conversation” at film festivals and questions just how “safe” these supposed safe spaces truly are. Even with its festival success, it has yet to secure a US distributor. No Other Land has yet to secure a US distributor. Its German release on 14 November ignited controversy when Berlin’s official city portal described the film as having “antisemitic tendencies”.
This underscores the broader issue of marginalised voices in global cinema. Major film festivals, vying for attention in an increasingly competitive landscape and trying to avoid films that are too controversial, often prioritise high-profile stars, established auteur or Oscar contenders. While works like No Other Land may break through, countless others, including those from Gaza or similarly embattled regions, are left unheard. Even for those fortunate enough to gain recognition, their impact on real-world issues remains tenuous, constrained by the very power that structures the “apolitical” film festivals.
The parallels with Ruben Östlund’s The Square are striking: festivals, like cultural institutions, can become performative spaces, presenting politically and intellectually eye-catching works while leaving deeper systemic issues unchallenged. In the end, No Other Land is as much about the resilience of Masafer Yatta’s people as it is a reflection on the power dynamics that shape which stories are told, celebrated, and remembered. Just like Adra said in his own film, “This is a story about power”.
© Richard Hübner / Berlinale 2024
Provided by Berlinale through press photos.
