There’s something profoundly moving about witnessing a filmmaker reach new heights in both technical mastery and storytelling—and Cherien Dabis’s latest work, All That’s Left of You, is a testament to that evolution. But here’s where it gets controversial: while some may see it as a poignant exploration of Palestinian history, others might argue it’s a one-sided narrative. Either way, it’s impossible to ignore the film’s impeccable craft and emotional depth. Dabis, whose previous works Amreeka and May in the Summer showcased her talent for intimate, emotionally charged storytelling, has now delivered a multi-generational epic that feels both personal and universal. This isn’t just a film—it’s Jordan’s Academy Award submission for Best International Feature, and it’s already making waves.
The story begins with a heart-stopping scene: two teenage boys, Noor and Malek, sprint across tin rooftops and narrow alleys, their movements a visceral reminder of the confined yet vibrant world of the occupied West Bank. Moments later, Noor rushes home, barely catching his mother, Hanan (played by Dabis herself), before she leaves for an anti-Israel protest. As shots ring out, the film cuts to an older Hanan, who breaks the fourth wall to address the audience directly: ‘I know you’re wondering why we’re here… But to understand, I must tell you about his grandfather.’ This seamless blend of past and present sets the stage for a non-linear narrative that spans four decades, from 1948 in Jaffa to the present day.
And this is the part most people miss: Dabis doesn’t just tell a story—she weaves a tapestry of themes that resonate deeply. The helplessness of paternal figures, the dehumanization by the Israeli Defense Forces (IDF), and the enduring beauty of the Arabic language are all interwoven with moments of physical, psychological, and bureaucratic violence. For instance, the recurring poem ‘I Am the Sea’ by Muhammad Hafiz Ibrahim becomes a symbol of cultural resilience, while the IDF’s broken Arabic in the subtitles highlights their indifference to the language of the land. These details aren’t just background noise—they’re deliberate choices that amplify the film’s impact.
Visually, All That’s Left of You is a masterpiece. Dabis and cinematographer Christopher Aoun use wide shots to capture both the grandeur and intimacy of their settings. Every frame is a feast for the eyes, whether it’s the purple-hued silhouettes of Palestinians laboring or a breathtaking drone shot of the Mediterranean sea merging with the Jaffa skyline. But it’s the human faces—weathered, vulnerable, and full of emotion—that truly anchor the film. The Bakri family’s performances, in particular, are nothing short of extraordinary, with Saleh Bakri’s sorrowful eyes and Debis’s warm portrayal of Hanan leaving an indelible mark.
Here’s the bold question: Does the film’s emotional symbolism risk veering into sentimentality? Some might say yes, but Dabis navigates this line with grace. Even in moments that could feel overly sentimental, like a sunset scene between Hanan and Salim in 2022, the authenticity of her intent shines through. We don’t just watch this film—we feel it, piece by piece, until we’re left with a humanizing whole that’s impossible to forget.
So, what do you think? Is All That’s Left of You a balanced portrayal of history, or does it lean too heavily into one perspective? Let’s discuss in the comments—this is a film that demands conversation.
