Like the rest of the moral and civilized world, one towards which Israel cheerfully chooses to flaunt its middle finger multiple times daily, I was again outraged that the Israeli settlers-the most barbaric of religious zealots- had kidnapped, tortured and nearly killed Palestinian Oscar-winning director Hamda Ballal after dragging him from his home. Then they turned him over to the IDF to finish him off.

Basel Adra, one of No Other Land’s four co-directors, tweeted that he was with Ballal’s young son in the aftermath of the violence and…

“There were dozens of settlers together with the Israeli soldiers and they were threatening us with weapons. The police were there from the beginning and did not intervene. While the soldiers were pointing their weapons at us, the settlers started attacking the houses of the Palestinians,” Adra told The Guardian. “Hamdan tried to protect his family and the settlers attacked him. Soldiers started shooting in the air to prevent anyone from helping Hamdan. He was shouting for help. They let the settlers attack him and then the army abducted him.”

Handcuffed all night in solitary confinement and again beaten by the Zio-Jews of the IDF, fortunately someone up above realized the international incident unfolding in a dark cell which could not, like Ballal’s film, “No Other Land,” be kept quiet if they killed him for sport.

So they released him. Injured. Shaken. But, thankfully, free.

Like so many who have little recourse against this barbaric Israeli regime, for eighteen months, I, equally outraged decided to vent my anger and watch, “No Other Land.”

Au Contraire.

I attacked my keyboard this evening to provide a call to action: Everyone must now watch “No Other Land.” Now. Or, so I thought.

But as I sat down for a home viewing of my own, it was gone. Gone. Missing. Disappeared.

Amazon? Gone. Apple TV? Gone. Google TV? Gone. And, additionally removed from all the available platforms that, until the sensational news of Ballal’s torture made headlines some 48 hours ago, had advertised it for purchase.

The plot was so thick, that although I had previously stored “No Other Land” in my Amazon Prime “Favorites,” that too was removed from view like Rachel Corrie under a pile of bricks.

Hence, today, we must fight back. Now. WE all must pay tribute to Hamdan Ballal and to the courage of the Palestinian nation and, no matter what, watch “No Other Land.”

In my huge city of some 5 million people, “No Other Land” is playing in just one theatre. Tomorrow night…I…Will …Be…There!

I will next, purchase a copy, no matter what it takes, and I will upload it on every social media account I have. Of course, the same Zio-Jews that have shadow-banned, “No Other Land” also control social media. No matter. If we, the righteous take up the sword of justice and act in kind, “No Other Land” will be the internet sensation of our outraged world.

Far and wide.

Video Link

Movie Review: “No Other Land.”

One can tell the power, the influence, the jarring of the mind borne of a great movie by the vacuous silence, the utter hush of the audience as the final conclusion sinks in while the credits slowly roll down the darkened screen before staring unblinking eyes.

“No Other Land,” is such a movie.

After hearing the outrageous but too-well-expected attempted assassination by Israeli settlers of 2025 Oscar-winning Co-Director of No Other Land, Hamdan Ballal, my resolve was unhindered by the distribution blackout when, as promised, within 24 hours I entered the Reading Cinema to watch it in tribute.

And in protest.

Ballal, one of the four co-directors that include main characters Basel Adra, Yuval Abraham and Rachel Szor, all of who had received the 2025 Academy Award for Best Documentary (feature) Film, Ballal had returned home to Palestine after successfully exposing the arbitrary inhuman barbarity inflicted on Palestinians in the West Bank. One misnomer about the film must be cleared up, however, since No Other Land was filmed over a lengthy period but completed just before the advent of the Israeli Genocide in Gaza.

The film takes place in the West Bank region called Masafer Yatta. Here, scores of small family hamlets can be seen dotting the barren, rocky, denuded landscape; each its extended family unit living a daily Palestinian life of love, close camaraderie, and unfathomable happiness in the face of the daily threat of Israeli aggression, be it settlers or IDF soldiers.

The four main real-life characters in this tragedy are co-director Basel Adra, his father and mother and co-director Yuval Abraham, an Israeli Jew, who has sincerely come to help rebuild Basel’s recently razed to-the-ground ancestral home. As Yuval, who speaks perfect Arabic explains in sincerity, “When I began learning Arabic, I began to understand Palestine.”

As hindsight of Basel’s growing up in Masafer Yatt with a love of photography, we are shown this in several vignettes as the film provides the comparison of a family once left unmolested before their hamlet is torn asunder to create a place for Israeli tanks to do their training, thereby casting out Basel and family whose ancestors had lived there since the early 1800s.

Ballal’s film follows the wanton destruction of many other family hamlets as the IDF and their unknown civilian henchman in civilian clothes, whose identity is not revealed, waves an Israeli court decision of eviction in the faces of the families and their many neighbors as they desperately try to prevent the destruction: Without being killed.

Not all make it out alive.

The first destruction we see is that of Basel’s home as the enclave’s residents scream in anguish only to meet the smirking, gun-toting IDF soldiers and their single D-18 Bulldozer. This scene is slow torture to watch. One wants to leap to the feet and rush closer to the screen in support. From the house to the water well, to the chicken coop, everything is taken away.

But only for a time.

Then we watch them-THEM– destroy a school after we witness these same Palestinians build that school, block-by-block, despite the Israelis forbidding the school. I will stop here for fear of stealing the full power of this scene, but I do remember a sharp gasp from a woman in the audience shocking me back to awareness that I was not there. But I was. We were...there.

No Other Land is impeccably edited, and the quality of the videos culled together are very professional. The camera angles are tight and close and bring the viewer into the unfolding drama. On these merits alone, the film is a standout. Ballal and Co. incorporated many video clips and pictures taken when the characters that we come to recognize instantly were much younger and far more free.

But what we see, again and again, are smiles. Laughter? The term “indomitable spirit” might be used but this would be far too vague if not for the film. During the ninety-five minutes of No Other Land, we begin by bearing witness incrementally to the many razings of the family homes. But more importantly, we are taken into that home; what little is left and sit with the families in the aftermath. And, as they plot and plan renewal, they smile.While we watch, just moments after these families have lost their houses, they are already planning how to rebuild.

And they do while somehow, the children play in the rubble as the adults continue to rebuild and to live on their land.

For this is their land. Palestinian land for centuries. Until, one day, on November 27, 1947…

Ah, but there are other smiles we witness. Evil smiles. The smirk, the laugh, the jeer as the settlers and soldiers emboldened by impunity do as they wish with relish. They deliberately grin in the face of every Palestinian- and viewer. The plain-clothed Israeli antagonist shows up again and again, waving his court order and directing the soldiers who protect the bulldozer instead and Sheppard the residents into futile screaming submission.

More cannot be told without stealing the full effect of Palestinian reality thus finally forced before tear-stained eyes.

This, before Oct 7.

As we of the moral world search as desperately as Basel Adra and his extended family and neighbors to stop Israeli madness, we search for a means to do so. To express in some small way our contempt for Israel and our desire for peace in Palestine.

In my preface, I suggest that it is time for action. Not words. I promised myself I would take the smallest of acts of resistance and despite the media blockade of any access to No Other Land, I got my ass to that one theatre. I watched it all in protest. So that, no, Israel will not prevent the truth from reaching my eyes.

Nor the eyes of those who do indeed aspire, rather, to “The Constant of Conscience.”.

The film now over, I sat in that silence. I did not want to be the first to leave my seat. Doing so seemed…insulting? The others in the too-paltry audience seemed similarly afflicted by No Other Country. Sitting. Starring ahead. Quiet.

I watched, deliberately, those faces as they so slowly moved to stand while still staring blankly at the screen. Heads then bowed. Not a word. As all so carefully, step-by-step, walked down to the exit. All of us now knowing what we suspected all along. We had seen it. With our eyes!

And what we had witnessed, with those eyes, that implicit, undeniable truth, would never…ever… be…forgotten.

About the Author: Brett Redmayne-Titley has spent the last thirteen years travelling to and documenting the “Sorrows of Empire.” He has authored over 200 articles all of which have been published and often republished and translated by news agencies worldwide. An archive of his published work can be found at watchingromeburn. uk. He can be contacted for interviews or comments at live-on-scene ((@)) gmx.com. His substack is: brettredmaynetitley.substack.com

The author’s recent book, “THERE!” is available.. 18 chapters of the best in old-style on-scene reporting from hot spots around the world. Please support my work by purchasing a copy from Amazon Books.

Rise-up! It… is… time….