Oscar-winning student film ‘mirrors the experiences of Palestinians in Israel’


Omar Mahamid portrays the protagonist in 'Butcher's Stain.' Omar Mahamid portrays the protagonist in 'Butcher's Stain.' Credit: Badoor Jbara In 'Butcher's Stain,' an Israeli film that just won the Student Academy Awards, Omar Sameer Mahamid portrays an Arab butcher experiencing racism in the aftermath of October 7. For the Umm al-Fahm native, the film - directed by a U.S.-born Jewish Israeli - hit surprisingly close to home

Omar Mahamid in a still from ‘Butcher’s Stain’

Nagham Zbeedat writes in Haaretz on 1 September 2025:

When 30-year-old Omar Sameer Mahamid was offered the role of an Arab butcher working in a Tel Aviv supermarket, he had no idea where the film would go – let alone that “Butcher’s Stain” would win a 2025 Student Academy Award.

Mahamid, a Palestinian Israeli actor from the northern city of Umm al-Fahm, did not formally study acting or theater. Still, he has built a quiet but steady path in the industry, appearing in numerous minor roles over the years, including a part in “Billa,” which was screened last month at the Jerusalem Film Festival. He also recently acted in a handful of short films that have yet to be released.

In the “Butcher’s Stain,” directed by Meyer Levinson-Blount, Mahamid plays Samir, a quiet man thrust into the spotlight after being wrongfully accused of tearing down Israeli hostage posters by his manager at a supermarket. Despite his good relationships with his colleagues, his manager tells him the accusation could be dropped if he confesses. As a recently divorced father earning minimum wage, he suddenly finds himself at risk of losing his job, and fights to prove his innocence.

Through a restrained and deeply human performance, Mahamid captures a character weighed down by suspicion, clinging to his dignity, and struggling to clear his name while holding onto his livelihood. “The film reflects elements of our reality, things we live through every day. I’ve experienced them myself, even if not exactly as they are shown in the film,” Mahamid says.

It was about a year ago when the casting call for “Butcher’s Stain” came his way. “I instantly loved the character,” he says. “The script was so delicately written. It had weight. It carried something rare and worth building on.”  Still, he stuck to low expectations about the impact of the film. “It’s a student film, after all,” he says.

“Every artist dreams of being recognized for their work,” said Mahamid when he talked to Haaretz – and the film was still only a finalist for the Student Oscars. “I’m very happy, not just for myself, but because my community is happy. We’ve been overwhelmed with news of war, crime and killing. People were thirsty for something joyful.”

He says the experience gave others a sense of hope. “Sure, we live in a very complex reality. But I could feel it, some people really felt hope.” Since the nomination, he’s received a flood of supportive messages. “In the end, I represent my people. And I’m proud of that,” he says.

Last week, it was announced that “Butcher’s Stain” is one of 14 winners in the 2025 Student Academy Awards competition, chosen out of thousands of films. The ceremony will take place in New York City on October 6th.

A mirror of reality
While Mahmid’s first audition impressed the team, director Levinson-Blount pushed for a second meeting, where they spoke in-depth about the actor’s personal experiences and his thoughts on the script. This meeting, Mahamid explains, transformed the story from a general exploration of discrimination into something intensely personal.

“I genuinely felt the director knew exactly what he was doing,” Mahamid explains. “The narrative felt logical and very real to me, because it mirrors the reality we Palestinians inside Israel experience.”   There was a moment during filming when Mahamid felt so immersed in a particular scene that it stopped feeling like acting. “I genuinely felt the pressure, the heat of the moment. It was as if I was living it in real life.”

For three out of the four days it took to shoot the film, Mahamid was the only Arab on set. “On the fourth day, there were Arab actors too, but most of the time it was an all-Jewish cast and crew. They were all great, truly, but when you’re acting in scenes like these, you can’t help but feel a certain tension, a sense of exchanged glances between ‘the Arab’ and ‘the Jew,'” he says.

“In some scenes, I felt guilty. It wasn’t the character, it was me,” he adds. “That feeling comes from real life, too. I’ve felt it before. When I’m in Tel Aviv, for instance, I get those same looks written into the script.”

Mahamid says he’s used to being perceived a certain way. He favors the color black and keeps a relatively long beard. “It’s just my style,” he says. But he knows these personal choices add to how people view him. “You can see the unease in their eyes, the tension, the anticipation.”

He’s also had his share of what he calls “minor incidents” of racism, but two stand out to him. The first was during the filming of a documentary in Jerusalem, when a Jewish woman confronted him aggressively, accusing him of working for Al Jazeera. The second dates back 12 years, when he posted an ad on Facebook to sell his personal camera.

“Someone commented that people shouldn’t buy from me because I supposedly support terrorist organizations,” he recalls. The accusation, he believes, stemmed from his work documenting protests for the press, including the annual March of Return each spring in Israel, commemorating the Nakba and organized by the Association for the Defense of the Rights of the Internally Displaced.

‘A microcosm of Israeli society’
The film’s inspiration stemmed directly from Levinson-Blount’s own experiences. Before attending film school, he worked for about a year-and-a-half at a supermarket, often shooting short films on site. Following the Hamas attack on October 7, 2023, he returned to the supermarket, working behind the cheese counter, where he witnessed firsthand the tensions that permeated the workplace.

“The supermarket felt like a microcosm of Israeli society,” Levinson-Blount explained. “It’s a place where people from all backgrounds come to work – those who are struggling financially or socially. The internal dynamics reflected larger societal issues that became more visible after October 7.”

A key moment that sparked the story was Levinson-Blount’s observation of an Arab butcher at the supermarket who seemed to be marginalized by his coworkers. “He was excluded from the social fabric. People wouldn’t sit with him or talk to him. That really struck me. These are people whose stories rarely make it to the screen.”

Levinson-Blount emphasized that the film does not aim to be overtly political or provocative. “It’s really about the human experience, trying to depict someone you might pass by every day without seeing their struggles. It’s about immersing the audience in his reality, showing the pain caused by racism and discrimination without making it a political statement.”

The film’s star agrees. “I don’t see the film as a political idea, even though it touches on Israeli hostages, racism, and other sensitive issues,” Mahamid adds. “For me, it’s a human story about a man who is trying to provide for his family and is being treated unjustly.”  Mahamid adds that the film doesn’t focus only on Palestinians. “It deals with social tensions, between Arabs, Jews, Russian immigrants – the complexity of Israeli society as a whole,” he said. “That’s why the supermarket was such a powerful setting. It’s a small-scale version of the broader reality we all live in.”

About humanity, not politics
The 23-year-old director worked with producer Oron Caspi. The two Tel Aviv University students come from distinctly different backgrounds, but found common ground through storytelling.  Levinson-Blount, originally from New York, moved to Israel at the age of 12. Raised in a religious Jewish household, he now identifies as secular – a shift that influences much of his creative work.

Caspi, 45, who returned to university during the COVID-19 pandemic after two decades of working in video production, calls film school a long-postponed goal. Married with a young daughter, he juggles family life with coursework and production deadlines. Despite his technical experience, he said the transition into narrative filmmaking was humbling.  “Coming from the video industry, I thought I knew more than I did,” Caspi said. “But working on fiction films is a whole different language.”

“Butcher’s Stain” was submitted as Levinson-Blount’s second-year film school project and has since screened at festivals in Israel and Europe. The film’s inclusion in the Student Academy Awards places it among the most promising student films globally.  “It’s encouraging,” said Caspi. “But for both of us, it’s also a reminder that good storytelling still matters, and that people respond to honesty on screen.”

Levinson-Blount explained that he does not see the film as carrying a straightforward moral or message. “I don’t think the job of a film is to educate,” he said. “Rather, it’s to spark a conversation.” In his view, much of the public discourse is dominated by complex political issues, the Israeli-Palestinian conflict chief among them, but the conversations that often get lost are those about the everyday culture of racism and discrimination embedded within society.

The film, he said, aims to humanize those usually invisible to the audience, like the film’s protagonist, Samir. “People from across the political spectrum, left and right, have found ways to connect with the character because they see someone who is suffering, caught up in circumstances beyond his control.”

When asked whether he fears the film might face backlash or boycott because it is an Israeli production featuring an Arab protagonist, the director acknowledges the risk. “Outside Israel, it might be boycotted simply because it’s an Israeli film that doesn’t take an extreme political stance. Inside Israel, it could also face criticism.”

Caspi says the backlash is not what the filmmakers are worried about. “Whatever the responses are, they are out of our hands,” he said. “The film is made. All we can hope for is that it sparks conversation and opens minds. Whether it faces a boycott or not, it’s about creating dialogue. That’s what matters.”

‘A cinema of our own’
Mahamid has worked as a cinema and video therapist, primarily with children, for the past decade. He has also directed two short Arabic-language films: “Nuqta” (“Point”) and “Awlad al-Quds” (“Children of Jerusalem”), which were both screened at festivals at home and abroad.

“Awlad al-Quds,” made in 2022, explores the lives of Palestinian children in Jerusalem as they navigate daily life under pressure and the tensions in the Old City. The film was screened at the 2023 Haifa Film Festival and at another festival in Switzerland.

His more recent short film, “Nuqta” (2024), is still awaiting approval for distribution. “It’s a black-and-white surreal film filled with symbolism,” Mahamid says. The story follows a young man who has isolated himself in his room for years, surrounded by graffiti and letters. When his former partner contacts him to ask for her photos back, his silent bubble bursts. Their charged conversation gradually reveals the emotional weight of their shared past and fractured relationship. Mahamid’s dream is to continue making independent films.

“I love directing. I want to make independent films and find people who can support that vision, so I can share those stories at Arab and international festivals,” he says. “My goal and message is that we’ll one day have cinema of our own here, our own productions, support by our own people.”

Until then, Mahamid remains open to roles in Israeli films or shows – but with caution. “It is essential for me to participate in work that reflects our reality and aligns with my principles,” he says.

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