Shufuni Ya Nas follows a Middle Eastern man driving an expensive black car through Jaffa at night. Close-ups of his eyes, mirrors, and the car’s gleaming body merge with reflections of the passing streets. The vehicle protects its driver while enclosing him in an isolated world.

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The work echoes the opening of Martin Scorsese’s Taxi Driver (1976). In place of New York’s flickering lights, Tati presents a weary, silent Jaffa reflected on the car’s surface. Driver and city form a double portrait: a lonely antihero moves through an urban landscape inside a dark metal shell.

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Deep, low-frequency bass replaces Bernard Herrmann’s jazz soundtrack. Heard as though from just outside the vehicle, the sound vibrates through the gallery and creates an uneasy expectation that something is about to happen. It surrounds the viewer with the same tension that encloses the driver.

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The car becomes a symbol of masculinity, luxury, and promised social status. Its seductive surface is also intimidating, exposing the tension between consumer fantasy, isolation, and the threat of violence. The engine’s growl and the wheels’ screech bring this fantasy into its most visceral form.

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​Abridged and edited from a text by Ran Kasmy-Ilan.