One morning in Berlin, the filmmaker accidentally wakes his friend in England with a phone call, because he’s worried. The previous evening, he signed a petition for a cultural boycott of Israel, but was that actually such a good idea? As a Palestinian, he’s already treated with suspicion. Despite being half awake, his friend embarks on a lucid monologue; in just a few minutes, he brilliantly analyzes the fear, alienation and powerlessness of the filmmaker. As Palestinians in exile, they don’t have the luxury of keeping a distance, he says. “You’re already in it, do you know what I mean? Whether or not you sign a piece of paper doesn’t actually matter.”
The camera roams shakily around a sunny room somewhere in Berlin, one minute focusing on the window, the next on an empty corner. The grainy images suggest that the person behind the camera isn’t really there, but somewhere else.