At the beginning of this swansong Sluizer recounts how his Jewish grandparents fled continental Europe in 1942 only to die in a Japanese camp. Towards the end of the film, the filmmaker says the world would have been a better place if Sharon had perished in Auschwitz.

“It is a project I have had in mind for some time but after I fell ill I decided I had to do it,” says the 78-year-old director, who suffered an aneurism on Christmas Day 2007. “I did not know whether I was to live for two weeks, two months or two years. I was in bed for a year-and-a-half but once I was well enough I just went... This is a film about what I feel and what I think.”

Shooting for six weeks from March 2010, Sluizer toured the Middle East, reuniting with surviving members of the Hammad and Jadda families he first caught on camera some 30 years ago within a trilogy of films entitled Land of the Fathers (1974-75) A Reason To Go (1977) and Adios Beirut (1982). “These friends were the starting point but the film is about, you could say, the mistreatment of the Palestinian population on one hand, as commented by the Israeli government on the other,” says Sluizer, referring to a series of comments from Israeli politicians and officials who appear in the film.

During the trip, he bears witness to the worsening plight of the Palestinian people, filming house demolitions and settler requisitions in East Jerusalem as well as brutality at the checkpoints and water shortages in the West Bank. This material is cut with footage from the trilogy as well as Sluizer’s own very personal commentary. “I cannot run anymore but I was there for every shot, in every place,” says Sluizer, who walks with the aid of two walking sticks and sometimes has to resort to a wheelchair in the film.

“It was very tough, physically and mentally, because it takes more energy when you can hardly walk and you have a lot of dysfunctional body parts. But it was worth it.”

The original trilogy was born out of Sluizer’s desire to tell the Palestinian story at a time when, he felt, the world’s media was strongly biased towards Israel. “I decided to do something for the Palestinians, so they would have at least one camera trained on them, at least one ear listening,” explains the director. “I focused on two families where the children spoke some English, which made it easier, and where I felt there was some intelligence and sensitivity.” 

“I wanted to give them some dignity and value. I was trying to discuss the problems which arise when you do not have a country. I was not interested in the fighting. I did not have any violence in my first three films or any killings.”

Some 30 years on, there is no such restraint. It is as if Sluizer is finally venting long-contained anger and frustration he feels over the Palestinian plight. In the climactic scene, the director addresses former Israeli prime minister Ariel Sharon as he lies inert in his hospital bed, accusing him of brutality in the Beirut refugee camp of Sabra and Chatila in 1982.

“I think the world, mostly the Palestinians and me too, would have been better off if you had died in Auschwitz like most of my Dutch family. Have sweet dreams Mr. Sharon. Maybe murderous dreams. You enjoy that. Sleep well,” the director reads from a prepared letter.

Sluizer is unapologetic for the offence his words might cause. “I have a grudge against this man. He made the lives of 100,000 people impossible. I have been angry with Sharon ever since 1982 but it is only now that I have been able to deliver my thoughts in 2010,” says Sluizer forcefully. “I tell him what I feel. It is not relevant whether I was there or not, the relevance is what I am saying.”

“I have tried to close the chapter with this film,” concludes Sluizer. “My main regret is that I will never see the resolution of the conflict. I will never know what happens in the end – I am not optimistic.”