The opening scene is almost like a mime's routine. At an airport, a man leaves the driver's side of a white van and slowly walks to the back, opens the doors, and pulls out a bright yellow exercise ball. He puts the ball into the passenger seat, and the screen goes black for script narration: "Once, not long ago, a small Egyptian police band arrived in Israel. Not many remember this, it was not that important." And the van drives away, revealing eight stiff-looking men in blue uniforms, standing in a row on the sidewalk in the distance. Then, as the men remain motionless in the background, a baggage handler walks across the foreground of the screen, wheeling a single suitcase.
That type of subtle, undercutting humor continues throughout this charming film, which seems to downplay its own "importance" in every frame. It's a slice-of-life film that just happens to involve fish-out-of-water Egyptians experiencing an Israeli slice of life. Meet the Alexandria Police Ceremonial Orchestra, who have traveled to Israel to play an invited concert at the local Arab Culture Center. As this group follows its stoic, old-school leader-first, on a bus ride to the wrong town, and then wheeling their bags and instruments from the bus stop to the buildings in this remote hamlet-the eight men are dwarfed by the expanse of desert, by the skyline of uniform apartment housing, and by a world that is getting ready to pass them by. The Alexandria Police Ceremonial Orchestra is in danger of losing its funding, and a botched concert isn't going to help.
In town, they approach the first sign of life: a small restaurant with tables out front, in which two Israeli men sit, both fascinated and indifferent. The place is run by Dina (Ronit Elkabetz), a sexy older woman whose jeans, long hair, and easy manner clearly ruffle the Muslim visitors . . . especially the leader, Tawfiq (Sasson Gabai). The most unrattled band member is the tallest, youngest, and newest member: a would-be womanizer named Haled (Saleh Bakri), whose flirtation with the bus station worker may have been indirectly responsible for the band ending up in the wrong location. As Tawfiq approaches Dina and asks if she could please tell him where the Arab Culture Center is, she tells them, like a tough and savvy female who probably served in the Israeli army (since there are pictures of tanks and such all over her restaurant), that there is no Arab Culture Center, no Israeli Culture Center, no culture center of any kind. No culture at all--which is echoed in a humorous punchline from one of the men sitting outside. This is the kind of humor we get in "The Band's Visit," a mostly subtle and wry look at life. The most outrageous scene comes later at a roller rink, where Haled is trying to coach his young Israeli host how to respond to a young woman. The three of them sit on a bench, the girl weeping far left, and Haled on the far right. He whispers first, but then hands his new friend a handkerchief, which he offers to the woman. Then Haled puts his hand on the man's knee, and, getting the message, the man does the same to the woman. Then comes the knee massage, and finally the arm around the shoulder. Though Haled stops short of the kiss, by this time the timid Israeli has gotten the point. It's a scene that you really have to see to experience how funny it is, and one that bears rewatching. That's the way it is with a number of scenes in this understated comedy that's as deadpan throughout as Tawfiq, with his old-guard emphasis on honor and tradition.
The opening scene is almost like a mime's routine. At an airport, a man leaves the driver's side of a white van and slowly walks to the back, opens the doors, and pulls out a bright yellow exercise ball. He puts the ball into the passenger seat, and the screen goes black for script narration: "Once, not long ago, a small Egyptian police band arrived in Israel. Not many remember this, it was not that important." And the van drives away, revealing eight stiff-looking men in blue uniforms, standing in a row on the sidewalk in the distance. Then, as the men remain motionless in the background, a baggage handler walks across the foreground of the screen, wheeling a single suitcase.
That type of subtle, undercutting humor continues throughout this charming film, which seems to downplay its own "importance" in every frame. It's a slice-of-life film that just happens to involve fish-out-of-water Egyptians experiencing an Israeli slice of life. Meet the Alexandria Police Ceremonial Orchestra, who have traveled to Israel to play an invited concert at the local Arab Culture Center. As this group follows its stoic, old-school leader-first, on a bus ride to the wrong town, and then wheeling their bags and instruments from the bus stop to the buildings in this remote hamlet-the eight men are dwarfed by the expanse of desert, by the skyline of uniform apartment housing, and by a world that is getting ready to pass them by. The Alexandria Police Ceremonial Orchestra is in danger of losing its funding, and a botched concert isn't going to help.
In town, they approach the first sign of life: a small restaurant with tables out front, in which two Israeli men sit, both fascinated and indifferent. The place is run by Dina (Ronit Elkabetz), a sexy older woman whose jeans, long hair, and easy manner clearly ruffle the Muslim visitors . . . especially the leader, Tawfiq (Sasson Gabai). The most unrattled band member is the tallest, youngest, and newest member: a would-be womanizer named Haled (Saleh Bakri), whose flirtation with the bus station worker may have been indirectly responsible for the band ending up in the wrong location. As Tawfiq approaches Dina and asks if she could please tell him where the Arab Culture Center is, she tells them, like a tough and savvy female who probably served in the Israeli army (since there are pictures of tanks and such all over her restaurant), that there is no Arab Culture Center, no Israeli Culture Center, no culture center of any kind. No culture at all--which is echoed in a humorous punchline from one of the men sitting outside. This is the kind of humor we get in "The Band's Visit," a mostly subtle and wry look at life. The most outrageous scene comes later at a roller rink, where Haled is trying to coach his young Israeli host how to respond to a young woman. The three of them sit on a bench, the girl weeping far left, and Haled on the far right. He whispers first, but then hands his new friend a handkerchief, which he offers to the woman. Then Haled puts his hand on the man's knee, and, getting the message, the man does the same to the woman. Then comes the knee massage, and finally the arm around the shoulder. Though Haled stops short of the kiss, by this time the timid Israeli has gotten the point. It's a scene that you really have to see to experience how funny it is, and one that bears rewatching. That's the way it is with a number of scenes in this understated comedy that's as deadpan throughout as Tawfiq, with his old-guard emphasis on honor and tradition.
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