Vassilis NTOUSAS

Former Senior Manager for Europe and Fellow, Alliance for Securing Democracy, German Marshall Fund, and former International Relations Policy Advisor at FEPS, where he coordinated various international projects and activities and conducted political research

by Hany Abu-Assad
France, Germany, Netherlands, 2005

Hany Abu-Assad’s Paradise Now is a tense and quietly devastating film. Winner of the Golden Globe for Best Foreign Language Film (2005) and nominated for an Academy Award in the same category, it tells the story of Said and Khaled – two young Palestinian men, friends since childhood – who are recruited to carry out a suicide attack in Tel Aviv. As the operation begins to fall apart, the two are forced to confront the incredible weight of their decision, torn between loyalty, political conviction and the fragile hope of another path.

The film engages one of the most politically sensitive issues of our time through an unflinching but intimate lens: what leads ordinary people to commit extraordinary acts of violence? It manages to approach this question without descending into propaganda, cliché, or easy moralising. Instead, it offers a rare, unsettling portrait of two individuals navigating the unbearable pressure of their situation – revealing that violence, far from being abstract, is profoundly personal.

Much of the film’s emotional power lies in the raw, almost naturalistic performances of its two protagonists. Their chemistry anchors the story, giving life to a character-driven narrative about the intended loss of it. Each actor brings to the screen a quiet intensity, carrying the burden of doubt and emotion without falling into caricature. The film deliberately avoids framing them as heroes or villains and, in doing so, asks the audience to confront and sit in discomfort with the moral and psychological complexity of their choices.

Visually, Paradise Now adopts an understated style. The use of handheld cameras and natural lighting lends it a grounded, realistic tone. Abu-Assad keeps things stripped back, with minimal music and little sentimentality. The result is a film that feels immediate and honest – at times, almost unbearably tense. There are no easy binaries here, just people shaped by deep-seated frustrations and desires, trying to make sense of what meaning, if any, is left to them.

This is not comfortable viewing, nor should it be. The film’s refusal to offer moral clarity may leave some unsettled, but that is precisely what gives it its raw yet enduring emotional core. Long after the screen fades to white, what remains is the stark awareness of how far we still are from any kind of paradise – let alone one that is possible now.