Border X-ING

Free Zone, the second film in Israeli director Amos Gitai's trilogy about borders, follows three women-Israeli, Palestinian and American-on a profoundly complicated day trip from Israel to Jordan.

"I'm questioning how we perceive and cross borders-whether they're sacred and rigid or can be moved," says Gitai. "My mother, whose family emigrated to Palestine from Russia in 1905, grew up on dunes of a newly created Tel Aviv with a sense of liberty and freedom. Borders weren't so dangerous, so menacing then. Her generation saw borders move hundreds of times and understood they can move again in different directions."

MERIN: Should Israel's borders move in your view? GITAI: I think people-not only Israelis-in the region are tired of surface politics, political figures, violence. Despite Hamas, opinion polls show 75 percent of Palestinians want a peaceful arrangement with Israel. Everything isn't dark. I think the planet's "evening news" harms this region by showing just violence, and that's not the entire story.

This is the first Israeli film shot in Jordan; was getting permission difficult? I met the Royal Jordanian Film Commission, which is headed by a woman. They watched my films and liked them. I told them I'm not shooting exoticism, I'm shooting highways, parking lots, sand. Let's show what connects the Middle East. They said OK, we'll help you.

They wanted us to feel comfortable. When we'd just crossed the border, the Israeli crew was anxious. But after a few hours, everybody adapted to each other. I realized, sometimes very human experiences of making films or doing something concrete, one-to-one-not waiting for messianic politicians to solve everything-is a great school. This was a great experience for Jordanians and Israelis. If Israel is to have a secure place in this region-which is what I want-we must repeat this kind of experience.

So how'd you get the Free Zone story?

A guy who worked on my films as a driver told me about his new venture working with a Jordanian guy armoring cars to sell in Iraq. To me, this sounded like science fiction, so I asked to go with him to Jordan-to the "Free Zone." When we came back, I told my co-writer we should do this story, but convert the characters to women. I thought, OK, collectively we men of this region have successfully shown we're warriors, heads of gangs, whatever. But I'm making a proposition to the Middle East: Let's convert everybody into women, then look at things. We'll see the next step before peace is that it's authorized to disagree-you don't need to kill the other person.

You're a trained architect, but the film is non-designed visually and story-wise. I left architecture because it's too rigid. When architects design a building and there's a tree on the hill where the building's to be, they'll cut the tree. If the hill doesn't fit, they'll bulldoze the hill. I like to be more flexible.

When Natalie Portman, Hanna Laslo and Hiam Abbass bring me stories, their biographies, I'll accommodate them. So the film's concept meets the tree without cutting it.

What was Natalie's "tree?" Her tree's her own story. Her father's Israeli, she's born in Jerusalem. [She's] trying to figure out her identity-Israeli or not, Jewish or not. She delivered it as a proposition-and it fit my search about borders, about questions of identity and meaning.

Free Zone begins with an extraordinary seven-minute shot of Natalie weeping. How'd that arise? We were in Jerusalem, parked near the Wailing Wall. I came to Natalie and said, "Can you weep?" She did it. You don't know if it's intimate, or private or the state of the world. And it's wonderful-the scope of her transformation. I think it stretched Natalie and what she can do. Actors aren't always grateful when you lead them along this road, but I'm at peace with myself because I know it was good for her and for the film.