These are only a few of the unforgettable images presented in the film “Waltz with Bashir,” and no description I can give will do justice to their power, beauty and horror. An animated documentary from Israeli filmmaker and former soldier Ari Folman, “Waltz with Bashir” revolves around Folman’s experiences at the Sabra and Shatila massacre during the 1982 war between Israel and Lebanon. A Christian Phalangist militia ostensibly under the control of the Israeli Defense Forces was allowed to enter the two Palestinian refugee camps, and then exacted revenge for the murder of Phalangist leader Bashir Gemayel by slaughtering the innocents inside. The film questions how responsible Israeli forces were in enabling the massacre, but the main focus is on the memories of the soldiers themselves.
Many of the Israeli forces were little more than teenagers, unable to cope with the terrible violence they witnessed. Their minds deal with the appalling memories through excuses, hallucinations and suppression. For some time, Folman could not remember anything surrounding his time in the war to such an extent that he does not recognize himself in photos. He set out to interview friends, colleagues and anyone else who could give him information that might stir his memory.
“Waltz” follows traditional documentary style, and at first the idea of making such a film animated might seem contradictory. After all, documentaries are meant to record reality, while animation purposely distorts it. But without animation, this film would have been impossible to make. There would be no way to depict convincingly the blurred world of reality and hallucination these men inhabit. At one point, Folman asks his friend Carmi if he can make a drawing of Carmi and his son playing together outside. Carmi tells him to feel free to draw, but not to film. The remark seems offhand, but it hints at Folman’s reasons for choosing animation to tell his story: the exaggeration of animation, like the surreal visions of the soldiers, can convey the essential truth of a moment more effectively than the reality of the situation.
The film’s title refers to one of these moments: when Shmuel Frenkel, an infantry commander, appears to lose his mind temporarily under heavy enemy fire in Beirut. Completely exposed in the middle of the street, Frenkel wildly fires his machine gun in the air in a frenzied dance, as posters of Bashir Gemayel loom overhead. How real is this memory? It’s impossible to say. It seems unlikely that Frenkel would manage to emerge from his waltz unscathed, but earlier we see another soldier make a similarly incredible escape under fire. The point is not in the detail but in the spirit of the moment. The pain, frustration and fear that cause Frenkel to lash out so insanely are the truth.
Folman does not use this film to cast blame for the massacre. Clearly, those pulling the triggers were responsible, but who else? It is unclear who knew the violence was taking place, and who had the power to stop it. Most likely, all share some of the guilt. But no matter whom we hold accountable for the massacre, the inescapable truth is that it happened, a point Folman brutally hammers home at the conclusion of the film with real footage from the aftermath.
“Waltz with Bashir” hits a much deeper nerve than mere impugnation. In the wake of the Holocaust, Rwanda, Bosnia, and Somalia, and in the light of continuing genocide both in Sudan and the Congo, there is a sense that Folman is suggesting something much darker, something about the nature of a species that repeatedly allows such acts of ethnic violence. Ultimately, the question is whether it is a truth that we are capable of accepting and coping with, or a reality that we will continue to suppress and distort.
I am a fierce advocate of the use of animation for more than light children’s fare. As entertaining and successful as Pixar’s films are, I’ve often thought the full potential of the medium remains unrealized because of the public’s expectations for an animated film. In “Waltz with Bashir,” Ari Folman has done more than join the ranks of Hayao Miyazaki, Isao Takahata, Sylvain Chomet and Marjane Satrapi as one of the most innovative animation directors in the world today. He has created one of the most visually stunning films in recent years, not to mention one of the most thought-provoking and haunting contemplations of the effect of war on the human mind.