«L'Insulte», a stolen trial

Cinema Wednesdays - Loris S. Musumeci

«I warn you, he must apologize.»

Toni (Adel Karam) is a proud man. His wife is expecting a child and he's saving up to buy the apartment where the family will live in peace. His mechanic's garage is just a stone's throw from the building. Overtime doesn't scare this Lebanese Christian who sees work as a grace. Yasser (Kamel El Basha) is as proud and hard-working as Toni. Basic difference: he's a Muslim Palestinian refugee.

One morning, the gutter on Toni's balcony leaks. Yasser, foreman on the building site in Toni's neighborhood, asks him to carry out the necessary work. The Christian arrogantly refuses; the Muslim persists and brings the gutter up to standard anyway. Vexed that the minor repair work had been carried out without his authorization, Toni smashes Yasser's work with a hammer, and Yasser shouts «you stupid bastard! Tensions gradually escalate, culminating in a fistfight. The affair ends up in court, in a trial that takes on unexpected proportions, summoning up the painful history of both men and the history that forged them.

A stolen trial

Lebanese director Ziad Doueiri has not been at all shy in his direction. He wanted to show just how insignificant and absurd the causes of hostilities can be, but also how far-reaching their consequences can be. The discourse is well known, but extending it to the screen broadens the vision. It can all start with a gutter, and it can affect any hard-working family man.

The director, a former assistant to Quentin Tarantino, also places great emphasis on the trial scenes. From the reconstruction of a small regional hearing between ordinary men, the scenario evolves into a trial of national scope, with international media repercussions. The cinematic success of such an escalation lies in the simultaneous progression of script, set design and photography.

While in the opening scenes of the trial the camera focuses more on the angry, virile faces of Toni and Yasser, over the course of the hearings it shifts to the lawyers, the judges and the crowd in the courtroom. The silent, offended hatred of the two men gives way to a battle of lawyers, with the camera as weapon. The camera marks the opposition, framing the speeches of both plaintiff and defense with heroism and lyricism. The judges, in their dress and uniform, gain in nobility and height. The trial has been stolen from the two men; it has become an affair of state.

Toni and Yasser move

Ziad Doueiri's meticulous work sometimes provokes a touch of weariness in the viewer, sometimes cathartic emotion. The first part, in particular, suffers from the fault of provoking weariness: the actors are too upright and heavy-handed in their portrayal of the characters, particularly Adel Karam as Toni. In the second half, the actors' theatrical influence is toned down in favor of the art of filmmaking itself.

Witnessing the game with the cameras, the pleas and the crowd scenes, the viewer leaves the individual personalities of Toni and Yasser to observe them in their shared community. Emotions run high, and paradoxical as it may seem, the protagonists' inner selves are revealed. They are both victims. At last, they move, as they themselves move. Crying over the consequences of a broken gutter.

«These words are the result of an unhealed wound.»

Write to the author : loris.musumeci@leregardlibre.com

Photo credit: © Frenetic Films