The closing scene of Simone Bitton’s film “Mur” (“Wall,” 2004) depicts a series of people who, on their way to school or work, are seen climbing over the Israeli-built West Bank barrier near Jerusalem. The film, devoted to the effect of the wall’s construction on those who live beneath its shadow, manages at once to portray the hardships caused by the wall’s presence, the absurdities of its justification, and its failure to achieve its stated goal of blocking the movement of people between Israel and the West Bank. “Wall” is part of a growing trend of documentaries that shine a critical light on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, many of which have gained prominence on the international stage. “Wall,” however, sets itself apart by avoiding the traps of didacticism and naivete into which so many of these documentaries fall, and by doing so it serves as an effective articulation of a powerful critique. It accomplishes this critique largely, I argue, by mimicking formally its object of interest, the wall. I draw on theoretical discussions of documentary and voice by Bill Nichols to show how the film uses the wall as a structuring device. Bitton makes little use of voiceovers and other common means of bringing structure to documentary footage and instead uses the progressive encroachment of concrete slabs on subjects’ lands and lives to show the destructive effects of the wall. “Wall” frequently juxtaposes the fantasy of official rhetoric against the reality of the wall captured on film and, as in the final shot, makes use of long periods of silence. The film portrays the wall’s piecemeal construction in order to dismantle the logic of separation and control used to justify its existence. The title, “Wall,” then, is more than the documentary’s subject but also describes the structure of the film itself. By ending with a series of shots of men and women crossing over the border meant to block them, the film reveals both the impotence of the concrete wall and the potency of the celluloid “wall” it constructs for itself.