Film No. 12 (2020) February 23rd. 4:30 PM LUNA PALACE Leederville.
"You never cry like a normal baby does. It breaks my heart. Somehow you know." (An extract of the commentary Waad has layered through her film; a film she is making as a gift to her daughter).
A documentary feature so powerful and horrific you need to make sure you are in the mood to see a running commentary on war. Modern day war; conflict we have been flying over or around in our luxury airliners on our way to dream holidays for years.
Waad Al-Katea is a journalist and first time mum living in war torn Aleppo, Syria. She decides to make a film as a love letter to daughter Sama of the life she and her doctor husband Hamza live during the 2012 - 16 civil war. We bump along with Waad through the birth of Sama, the scenes of horror looking over the shoulder of Hamza as he attempts, not always successfully, to save a life, bombs exploding within metres as the dust balloons around the lens etc etc.
To think these gentle people, existing mainly in and around hospitals because of the nature of their lives, were regarded as the enemy by the state and Russian allied forces. And while there is no historical commentary forming part of the film's narrative, to watch these innocent people bear the brunt of war is scary. How lucky are most of us? This was a recurring personal thought throughout.
Our heroes are Waad and Hamza. Waad's simple voice over is told in heartfelt focus directly to her baby daughter. These heroes we meet in Sama are so because of their bravery. Is their bravery foolhardy? How much horror can the human condition handle? Will the birth of a motionless baby become one of the most iconic and heartfelt scenes you'll ever witness in the cinema? For Sama is a horror film without a Stephen King script, but it has a depiction of beauty of the human spirit which will stay with you. 10GUMS.
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