Put Your Soul on Your Hand and Walk
Throughout Sepideh Farsi’s documentary, we are waiting for a moment that we fear is going to come. When it does, our heart breaks, not because we didn’t see it coming, but because we did. The emotional numbness of life’s inevitability is something we cannot let win in the face of violence. It was the case in Geeta Gandbhir’s recent “The Perfect Neighbor,” and it’s the case here.
The latest onslaught of violence in Gaza and the West Bank by Israel, brought on by Hamas’s brutal attacks on October 7, might be the most polarizing conflict in modern political history. Can we not simply look at the barbarity of Hamas’s attacks, and Israel’s magnitudes greater response, and weep for the innocent lives taken? If you believe a good portion of people on social media, no. To accept that is to lose a part of our shared humanity. Ultimately, Farsi’s film is a work intended to bring some of that humanity back.
After October 7, Farsi- an Iranian filmmaker based out of France- begins to talk, over video calls, with photojournalist Fatima Hassouna. The calls follow a similar pattern. Spotty connections. Difficulty understanding what’s said. Lost calls. Trying to call back. Sometimes, they discuss the issues of the time in the conflict, especially when it looks a ceasefire might take place, but other times, Farsi is a refuge away from the realities of Fatima’s life. Having to move constantly. Having to find a good connection. Making sure her child will not go outside, especially if it seems like an attack is underway. Whenever Farsi loses connection with Fatima, or it takes a while for her to pick up, we’re left wondering if she is alright. Much of the time, Fatima does not act like someone under constant siege, which is to say that she’s trying to keep a positive, upbeat manner in the face of horrors. What else can one do?
In between calls, we see news reports, as well as images that Fatima shares of Gaza. They help give the film a sense of time passing, and context for not just the part of the conversation we just witnessed, but the one we’re going to witness next. Because the film played at Cannes back in May, we know that this will not be a current portrait of where things sit now in the conflict, but that doesn’t diminish its importance, or its immediacy. These two women form a bond that- in a way- breaks the code of objectivity for a documentary filmmaker and their subject, but the truth is, it matters that Farsi is a character in this film alongside Fatima. After all, she is the witness, not just documenting the psychological toll of this bloodshed on Fatima, but she also allows Fatima the complement of making sure she is allowed to tell her story. This is a story that matters, told in a way that is important to absorb in its entirety. That’s why- despite its sad inevitability- the reality of this film’s ending still lands; we’ve been on a journey with these women, and we cannot imagine not empathizing with them. This is the power of the medium at its finest.
