FEST is honored to have opened the 2025 edition with Scandar Copti’s film Happy Holidays as well as to have hosted two masterclasses with Copti. The first of these masterclasses was held on June 23 and focused on Copti’s method for working with non-actors, while the second followed on June 24 and involved working through the practical exercises Copti uses to train non-actors to respond authentically and honestly during filming.
Copti’s films have been recognized by festivals and awards from around the world, including an Academy Award nomination, the Ophir Award for Best Film, and the Caméra d'Or – Special Mention at Cannes for his first feature-length film, Ajami (2009). His work stands out for its documentary-style realism and use of non-professional actors—an approach he describes as being inspired by his admiration for Ken Loach and particularly the 1969 film Kes. The philosophical quandary known as the “paradox of fiction” is a central question he works through using this approach as he trains non-actors to respond to situations as if they were real. As Copti shared during the masterclass, he strives to create films that use as much of reality as possible to get as close to the “real” as a film can.
Copti’s oeuvre delves deep into the dynamics of everyday life for Palestinians. His latest work, Happy Holidays (winner of the Orizzonti Award at the 81st Edition of the Venice International Film Festival), traces the stories of several members of two families from Haifa—one Palestinian and one Jewish. The film’s tension builds as the characters’ values clash and forces beyond their ken shape the lives they are permitted to have.
In the Q&A following the screening of Happy Holidays, Copti shared that the story’s idea originated from an oxymoron. Overhearing a female relative telling her son “Never let a woman tell you what to do,” Copti began to reflect on oppression. In particular, he considered how oppression builds externally and internally, with the same people who suffer from being oppressed sometimes also being those who oppress others.
In revisiting the same span of time from different perspectives, Copti reveals these layers of oppression. Some of these forms of oppression condition the characters from the outside, but others are perpetuated by the characters themselves due to their individual prejudices and beliefs. The result is a richly textured vision of relationship dynamics within the particular context of Israeli society.
In addition to directing, Copti also writes and edits his works—a triple-whammy of skills that, according to his masterclass, requires a doozy of a spreadsheet. But it is no doubt because of Copti’s intense investment in his projects that he is able to extract such strikingly “real” scenes.
He describes his process as one that takes time. Recalling his own feelings of failure as a young actor, Copti openly disdains the “director–actor” hierarchy and traditional casting. Instead, Copti conducts workshops with groups of individuals who meet the basic outline of what he will need for the story he wants to tell. By orchestrating situations, he helps people to build the relationships their characters have and experience the feelings they need for the role.
When it is time to stage the scene, there is no “set” created only for that moment—the spaces the characters occupy are ones they are already familiar with (or not, as Copti illustrated in his masterclass with a clip from Ajami where two characters visit another’s home for the first time, organically creating a sensation of anxious propriety). Likewise, Copti does not operate with boom mics or artificial lighting that might cause his actors to feel overly conscious of the eyes of the camera. He described his final products as having “0%” of the dialogue originally scripted, though the storylines themselves largely match Copti’s plans.
By taking his time to work with people in a space without judgment or expectations, Copti gives his non-professional actors the space and safety they need to occupy their characters. They get to know and understand who the characters are so that they can live their stories for the camera. This is the key to unlocking the paradox of fiction and creating something “real.”
- Alexandra Rongione