‘Concrete Land,’ a Debut Feature Doc, Tells the Story of a Palestinian Bedouin Family Displaced in Jordan

Three generations of a Palestinian Bedouin family in Jordan are facing displacement, racism and family conflict in Concrete Land, a documentary that takes us to a place and into a nomadic lifestyle that we don’t see on screens very often. In the process, the family members’ love, humor, and resilience are tested to the limit.

Palestinian-Jordanian filmmaker Asmahan Bkerat’s feature debut, which she directed and for which she handled the cinematography, world premiered during the 79^th edition of the Locarno Film Festival. Now, the doc, written and edited by Ban Maraqa, will screen at the BFI London Film Festival (LFF). Bkerat and Maraqa also produced the film, for which Odd Slice Films is handling sales.

The LFF website calls Concrete Land “an intimate, multi-generational portrait of a mixed-race family fighting displacement and hostility in Jordan.” And it highlights: “This quietly powerful exploration of familial bonds across generations is a story of finding hope and the importance of a home.”

Check out a trailer for the film, which screens in the LFF’s Documentary Competition, starting on Oct. 8, right here.

Ahead of the film’s London festival run, Bkerat talked to THR about how the family featured in the film got her into filmmaking, why she just had to tell their story in Concrete Land, and what’s next for her.

How did you first meet the Bedouin family we get to meet in the film, and how did you decide to make a film about them?

I used to live in that same area when I was younger. I used to live on the outskirts of Amman. I was the isolated kid, always far from the city, because it wasn’t so developed at that time. I grew up with my friend Ban [Maraqa], and later on in life, we got into a film workshop together. During that time, we were just trying to hang out and [decided to] go outside the city. There was a new road that was recently opened, and I said, “Let’s go check it out.” And then we saw an old woman with a sheep walking behind her. It was a fascinating sight.

We met them exactly like you see them in the film. They take walks every day, and that was my first introduction to the family. But we didn’t see the tents they live in and didn’t know where she came from. We were just talking and offered her some tea, and she said, “No, come have tea at my place.” So we walked together past huge buildings, and then we saw their tents. It was striking to me.

Did that immediately give you the idea for the film?

In the beginning, there was nothing alarming for me. I wasn’t a filmmaker. I didn’t see a story. I wasn’t even into documentary. The workshop we did was for digital filmmaking, but we stayed friends with the family and kept visiting them because we loved them so much.

And then two years later, there was a workshop for documentary, and we made a short film called Badyra about the sheep in 2017.

After that, [increased] construction started there, and we asked a person what was happening and if they would keep the [Bedouins] or kick them out. He said, “Of course we’re going to kick them out.” So, then we decided to talk to the family and tell the story of what’s going to happen. The whole idea was just to document [the process]. I had no idea what a film was at that point, even though I had made a short. And the family said, “Okay, let’s see what happens.” And then eight years later, we had Concrete Land.

How much footage did you shoot?

Hundreds of hours. The part of not knowing what will happen keeps you shooting. I was waiting for an eviction or displacement. The film changed so many times. In the beginning, I was drawn to the grandmother and her sheep, and I was shooting them a lot. And then the family’s little girl was growing up, so she started developing her personality, and I was drawn to her. And then you see the father. So, it ended up as a family film.

I didn’t know about all the construction, and how that displaces people, in Jordan.

Historically, Amman is known as agricultural land. It’s very fertile land, and unfortunately, the city decided to develop the capital on that land. If you just drive half an hour outside of Amman, it becomes a complete desert, barren land where you feel like you’re suffocated by buildings. There are not a lot of parks.

In Jordan, we know well what Bedouin life is. But the Palestinian Bedouins we were filming are a minority within a minority because they’re also Afrobedouins. We know that Bedouins coexist with the land. If you take away the land, they have to live in buildings and abandon their life because being with the animals means you have to be on land. It was a slow realization for me throughout making the film that every time I came, there was new construction, new land being lost, more trees being taken down.

As a byproduct of that loss of land, you have this family that cannot exist within the city because there is no more space for them, but they want to keep access to education. Nomadic life is not easy to continue, especially for a family that is displaced. Bedouins historically live within their tribe, and this family lost their tribe, which is in Palestine, so they’re not on their land. They’re not in their community. So they face challenges on many levels.

Jordanian Bedouins actually get land from the government, but Palestinian Bedouins don’t because they’ are refugees. They don’t have that same status. So it’s a very complex, multi-layered issue. Even I only realized, as I was making the film, how complex it is.

How did you guys choose the English title, Concrete Land?

I realized that the film was about people losing land, and part of my living experience in Jordan is that it’s mainly made of concrete. You always just see concrete. So, Jordan is known for using concrete in buildings, and we lose land. So it became Concrete Land, also because the two juxtapose each other. Concrete is rigid, cold, and dead; land is living and breathing.

Is there anything that you want audiences to take away from the film that we haven’t talked about yet?

I want people to understand that Bedouin life does not equate to poverty. If you see people living in a tent, that doesn’t mean they are poor. That’s something that’s so hard for people to realize. Historically, Bedouins weren’t poor. They chose this kind of life because they wanted it. It’s not like they are forced into it, and modernization is always better. It’s not.

Has the family seen the film?

Not yet. They don’t have a TV, they don’t have a proper screen in their place. And we didn’t want to show them the film on a small laptop. So we’re trying to figure out booking a small cinema in Jordan. And we’re trying to get the father and daughter to the U.K. for the festival.

Will we see more films from you?

The biggest blessing of my life was meeting this family because I’m so happy that I found the career of documentary filmmaking. Even though it’s very, very, very hard, I’m very happy to be in it, and I want to continue in it.

I’m producing two films: a film about a Palestinian family that is returning to Palestine, which is made up of the family archive. And the other film is about a Jordanian farmer and the water loss in Jordan, because there’s a whole political situation going on with water being stolen by Israel.

I’m also developing my next feature, which is also about displacement because that’s something that I really care about. It’s something I’m naturally drawn to because I’m also Palestinian.