For Sama

There’s an anachronistic normality running through this documentary as we follow the young Waad Al-Kateab as she finds happiness, love and bears a child all whilst her surroundings in the besieged Syrian city of Aleppo are quite literally raining hell down upon her. Using her own photography, we are taken into the thick of things and exposed to the conflict this woman faces as she must juggle her own determination to be free of the oppression she has known for all of her adult life with an equally visceral need to get the young Sama to somewhere a little safer. She remains astonishingly upbeat for much of this film, remaining stoic as she tries to reconcile the threads that are straining her and her family, and with some frank contributions from her husband and from an whole array of friends from her war-torn and starving community, we are never far from a choice that she knows will carry risk either way. Though it is very much focussed on the family, it also shines quite a light on the indiscriminate nature of modern urban warfare. Everyone is a target, man or woman, grown up or not - there are few distinctions as the missiles and bullets buzz around a city that is becoming more impoverished by the day and there’s little light at the end of any tunnel. The dialogue is entirely natural and both Waad and Hamza seem to have got so used to the ever-present camera that you never feel they are performing, or seeking any kind of pity - this is real life and they know that to a considerable extent they are on their own: scared, yes but determined nonetheless. It’s about the brutality of war, but also of the hope and optimism of brave people who will sit that out as best they can hopeful that their children, for whom this film has been made, will never suffer in similar circumstances. The best way of achieving that is to make sure the rest of the world sees what is going on. It’s not an easy watch and at times is harrowing (though not graphic) to sit through, but it’s a story well worth the telling and the watching.