“Two metres of this land are enough for me for now”, which gives the film
its title, is a line from Palestinian poet Mahmoud Darwich. Close to his grave
in Ramallah, we see people preparing an outdoor music festival. It all seems
to be captured in real life: sound check, trestles being made, interviews prior
to the show, mundane meetings between natives and foreign visitors (a
Japanese woman speaking Arabic, to undermine any stereotypes). But the
opening of the film will have warned us discretely: it is about reviewing the
modes of representation of the Palestinian people with a view to start a film
yet to come. A prologue akin to a warning: all the things we will see have
been staged, however imperceptible it might be, and the seemingly simplest
of actions have been directed and chosen. The purpose of this film is to
combine two perspectives set out by a young woman who claims to be both
a journalist and a poet. What is the difference between these two writing
professions? “The journalist, she answers in a poised tone, turns big events
into small outcomes. Conversely the poet makes something big out of
something small.” This dual agenda gives the film its shape, its patience,
as a snapshot of a people freed here from the images which usually imprison
them, as well as its conclusion which pays tribute to Darwich whose poem
will have the last word, before a panning shot offers us the view of the land
in the horizon. (JPR)