Naza is booked out in Cinemateca. People want to know.
At the end of the film the sala empties in silence. The kind of silence you never get when a full cinema empties.
Naza’s aesthetic approach hints at Rear Window. As the murderers divulge their secrets, the camera spies on their neighbours in their Tel Aviv high rises. There is a double effect. Like Jimmy Stewart, we know we might be spying on other killers, living their humdrum lives. At the same time, we know that these humdrum lives could also, one day, be arbitrarily terminated, the happy homes annihilated, just as happened to their neighbours 60km up the road in Gaza.
The information divulged in Naza is not new to anyone who has wanted to find this information over the course of the past three years. But it is one thing being told these things by a website. It’s another thing hearing it from the mouths of those who performed the deeds. The limits of our humanity laid bare for all to witness.
War has become a video game.
The killers collect points and badges in order to ascend to the next level of inhumanity.
The awful parallels are acknowledged by the perpetrators. Fascism is a system that stalks the land. It wins through its acceptance as the system.
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