Lemon Tree: The Fork in the Road We Didn't Take "Lemon Tree" must be understood in its 2008 context, when the Israeli-Palestinian conflict existed at a different temperature than today. Both sides were slightly more tentative, and the possibility of human connection across the divide felt less remote. Viewed now, the film plays as a fork in the road, a moment when empathy might have prevailed over the machinery of occupation. That it didn't, makes "Lemon Tree" both hopeful and heartbreaking. Director Eran Riklis takes a measured approach, perhaps too measured. The screenplay could have been bolder, pushing either Salma or the Defense Minister's wife to reach out more courageously across the wall that separates them. Still, what restraint costs in dramatic impact, it gains in quiet dignity. And Hiam Abbass delivers a phenomenal performance as Salma, her face a canvas of suppressed grief, defiance, and exhausted resilience. The film's true power lies in its symbolic ending. Both the Defense Minister and Salma stand looking at "the Wall", a literal and metaphorical barrier that imprisons them both. One is trapped by power and paranoia, the other by powerlessness and occupation, but both are trapped nonetheless. The message resonates with prophetic clarity: If we do not have the courage to love even those whom we are told to hate, then we are imprisoned in hell, both here and hereafter. "Lemon Tree" is a gentle film about an ungentle reality, a reminder that the path not taken haunts us as much as the one we chose.