Palestinian rap. This isn't about acting tough, proving your lyrical skills and showing bling. This is about personal and political expression in a part of the world that generally crushes those who overtly challenge the powers that be. In her film Slingshot Hip-Hop, Jackie Reem Salloum spotlights a vibrant hip-hop scene as artists discover rap and use it as a means to empower, create hope and unify a divided land.
In Gaza, the West Bank, Lyd and other Palestinian communities within Israel, the daily reality of the "occupation" is one akin to imprisonment - families and communities divided across only a few miles separated by walls, razor wire, checkpoints and deep-rooted hatred of the Arab people. Any real level of school and work are luxuries seldom seen here for young people, leading many to turn to selling drugs. Enter the world of underground rap. This is a community bent on highlighting the daily struggles of their people, spreading the message of hope amongst despair and giving birth to a subculture with real goals and aspirations. Taking inspiration from black rappers like Tupac and Public Enemy, they use their lyrics to speak out against their oppression and attempt to incite change amongst their own as well as within the Israeli state.
Focusing on the genesis of several artists including DAM, the first-ever Palestinian hip-hop group, PR (Palestinian Rapperz), Abeer, a female Palestinian rapper, and Arapeyat, this is a documentary with a huge amount of emotional energy. You see the members of DAM emerge from their attempts to emulate the bling and thug image of American gansta rap (the guys actually make quite a bit of fun of their early attempts) into their own as politically-charged messengers of hope capable of playing sold-out shows in Europe. But, underneath the glamor of stardom, there's the cold reality of daily gunfire, exploding bombs and high political tensions. Everyone knows people who have been killed. Nearly everyone has been shot themselves... but here it's not from rival gangs but from Israelis. The artists tell it like it is, painting a very sobering picture of their lives and how their art gives them and those around them hope for the future and, in many cases, brings about real change. What emerges from the film as a whole is a really heartwarming experience, but also a raw look at the current situation in Palestine. It's very one sided... but to try and balance this story to show the Israeli side would soften the impact to a point where the incredible empathic connection you feel with the artists would be nonexistent. Sometimes you have to tell things from a single viewpoint to get your point across and make people take notice.
Sundance being what it is, the film's credits did not signal an end to the experience. The Festival had pulled countless strings and had managed to get visas for Abeer, all three members of DAM and one member of PR. Considering it took over a year to even get the necessary papers to allow PR out of Gaza to do a show with DAM 10 miles away, it's an absolute miracle that they were able to fly them out and into the US. To a standing ovation, they each warmed everyone up with some freestyling and then took questions from the audience. What do you ask when you only have 10-15 minutes to really talk to these people in the flesh? Two hours of documentary film can't really even do their story justice in the truest sense.
So... the fest is off to a fantastic start. Great film, emotional Q&A and a real sense that there's always some hope in the world. Sounds cliché... but words pretty well fail to capture the experience.
