Sepideh asked Fatma if she was scared. Fatma replied: “We put our soul in our hands and walk.” She said she wasn’t afraid. Regarding the Apaches heard in the background, she remarked casually: “They are there to shoot us.” The filmmaker asked explicitly: “Do they shoot from the helicopters?” “Yes,” Fatma said, as if it were nothing out of the ordinary.”
Lately, I’ve been focusing mainly on documentaries where I hoped to find hope and beauty, partly as inspiration for a documentary I’d like to make myself. At the film festival in Sneek, there were only three documentaries on the program, and I wanted to see them all. Moreover, I wanted to see a film about Gaza. Fatma is a young talented photographer who documented the war there and its consequences. She came onto the radar of filmmaker Sepideh Farsi, who approached her to create a visual eyewitness report of Fatma’s life through video calls. I was particularly struck by Fatma’s hope and future plans. Also despite being trapped with her family in a desperate situation of continuous bombardment she appeared smiling, well dressed and made up on all of the calls.
Powerless
How did I leave the theater? Silent. Impressed. The enormous contrast of their reality and mine. That I have to try to make every day a beautiful one. That it is terrible how people who have nothing to do with a conflict and are simply trying to live their lives, are forced to endure violence and destruction just because they happen to live where an aggressor mows down everyone in their way. It’s bizarre that we are real time spectators, we see so much injustice in many places and yet remain so powerless.
Tension
At first, I wondered if I could stay focused for nearly two hours just watching talking heads on phone screens. I did so effortlessly; I sat through the entire film breathless. For me, that’s a rarity. It was edited in such a way that I was captivated from start to finish. The inherent tension, beautifully built up, was that every time Sepideh called, you wondered if Fatma would pick up. Every ringtone was a cliffhanger.
Reality
You don’t just see two faces talking on a phone screen; occasionally there are other images, the photos Fatma took. Through what she tells us about her family’s life, their experiences, and their surroundings, you receive new information throughout the film. The story grows richer and richer.
This film is, of course, one of the most personal story about a war you can imagine. Fatma was so brave, accepting her reality with a smile, although she grew somber toward the end.
There were moments that truly demanded full attention. For instance, when they spoke about bombing and suddenly the screen went black, leaving only the sound of an explosion. It startled me; it really hit home. It was a powerful realization that you are watching people being bombed almost in real-time.
At the end of the film, the camera “driving” through the streets accompanied by Fatma’s voice is heartbreaking. She was killed by an Israelia attack on April 16th, 2025.
Ethics
The contrast between the filmmaker in a safe world and the protagonist in a life-threatening situation made me reflect on the ethics of the maker. What is your responsibility when showing someone in mortal danger, someone who eventually got killed in the war?
Sepideh hinted a few times at Fatma leaving Gaza. I suspect she wanted to help. But Fatma initially wanted to stay, and by the time she did want to leave, her situation seemed hopeless: nowhere to go. It’s moving and gut wrenching when, during one of the final calls, the filmmaker shares that the film was selected for Cannes and asks if she’ll come. Fatma says she will try. Shortly after, Fatma doesn’t answer the phone anymore.
The Form
There isn’t much choice when making a film based on video calls: you film the phone. Perhaps it’s strange, but the first thing I noticed in the opening shots was that the phone was on “airplane mode”.
Cliffhangers
Every time the filmmaker called, I held my breath, hoping Fatma would answer. Every time the phone rings is a cliffhanger, building tension even though you know how it ends.
Audio and video
The audio was good; I’m curious how it was recorded. The setup seems simple: the filmmaker has a phone on a small tripod and films the conversations with a separate camera. You see her phone in various locations. But filmmaking seems easier than it is many times. Since Sepideh Farsi travels frequently and recorded herself, I wonder what equipment she used and how she did it. I hope to find some “behind the scenes” footage someday to check this.
Text or visual
There is a moment where Fatma reads her poem. Her voice is layered over photos she took of her environment. Because I had to read the subtitles, I didn’t always see what’s in the photos and vice versa.
Enough
Even though I’ll always feel frustrated about being able to watch and not help, I take some comfort in the fact that Fatma said to Sepidah: “I feel you standing next to me, you talk to me, you stand by me. That is enough.”
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