Italian
Two differing views of Gaza — a dreamy, nostalgic one and a harsher, lived one — come together in a not completely satisfying way in “Yalla Parkour,” winner of DOC NYC’s international prize. The film marks the feature debut of Areeb Zuaiter, a Nablus-born, Washington, D.C.-based filmmaker. Ten years in the making, the documentary wrapped before the events of Oct. 7, 2023, although the helmer briefly notes the death and destruction of 2024 in her prologue and closing credits.
Zuaiter chooses an editing structure that embeds the tale of Gaza parkour athlete Ahmed Matar within the framework of a story about her mother, her memories and her identity. It is an approach that may connect with some viewers, although for this reviewer, it undermines the more dynamic and compelling struggles of the young Gazan.
In 2013, Zuaiter fixates on striking internet footage of a band of fearless Khan Yunis boys performing parkour flips on what looks like a flat, sandy rooftop as an ominous gray cloud from an explosion dominates the sky in the distance. Reaching out by internet messenger, she forms a long-distance relationship with the group’s teenage cameraman, Matar, a rising parkour athlete. As Matar shares the group’s astounding, exuberant videos shot amid devastated landscapes, Zuiater finds hope and resistance in their activities.
Popular on Variety Although Zuaiter longs to see the sea that haunts the childhood memories she continues to describe in her voiceover narration, Matar’s videos mostly show the boys making destroyed and abandoned buildings their own. From the picturesque ruins of Barquq Castle to a bombed-out mall to the half-built Rafah airport to a local cemetery, they practice and perform dangerous, gravity-defying stunts. In another country, with their strength and graceful form, they could be champion high divers or award-winning gymnasts, but in what Zuaiter calls the “open-air prison” of Gaza, their practice feels like a form of freedom. Matar lives with the hope that his videos will bring an invitation to compete outside of Gaza and lead to real liberation.
Not every boy on the parkour squad shares Matar’s luck and sure-footedness. We see a teammate known as Jinji scaling the honeycomb surface of a tall building, but plummeting to the ground before he reaches the top. Later we see Jinji return from the hospital, having broken more than 50 bones. His case proved so serious, it required treatment in Israel, but getting the permits to leave Gaza took more than a week.
As Jinji’s case proves — and Zuaiter shows — life in Gaza requires the patience of a saint. When Matar takes on the labyrinthine and expensive task of applying for a visa, he is rejected four times. After he finally receives one, it expires before he can get a permit to leave through Rafah crossing. Zuaiter asks: Why does he want to go? “There’s no future in Gaza,” comes the reply.
Further awkward editing choices come around the hour mark when the film jumps from 2016 to 2023. We learn that Matar got out of Gaza after all, and has been in Malmö, Sweden, for seven years. For the now-24-year-old, patience is still a necessary virtue. He cannot return to Gaza until he achieves Swedish citizenship. While waiting for his precious new passport, he works at a gym teaching kids and makes video calls to family and friends. But the information Zuaiter provides about his new life seems like short shrift after we have followed Matar so closely.
Since Zuaiter could not enter Gaza, she had to hire several cameramen in the territory. Over the years, they managed to get some of the water shots she so desired. The energetic, grittily realistic footage of the parkour boys plays in counterpoint to the moody shots of Zuaiter on her computer, drawing or looking at family photos. Likewise, the dusty, dun colors of Gaza contrast with the snowy winter and blooming spring of D.C. seen from Zuaiter’s window. A lovely, albeit sparsely used, multi-layered score by Diab Mekari helps to unite the film’s disparate parts.
The end credits note that since the completion of the film, three members of the camera crew, one sound recordist and one member of the Gaza parkour team have died, and pays tribute to them by name.
