From Ground Zero
(Palestine/France/Qatar/Jordan, 115 min.)
Dir. Wissam Moussa, Nidal Damo, Ahmed Hassouna, Alaa Ayoub, Karim Satoum, Bashar Al Babisi, Khamis Masharawi, Nida’A Abu Hasna, Tamer Nijim, Ahmed Al Danaf, Rima Mahmoud, Muhammad Al Sharif, Basil El Maqousi, Mustafa Al Nabih, Rabab Khamis, Mustafa Kulab, Alaa Damo, Hana Eleiwa, Mahdi Kreirah, Aws Al Banna, Islam Al Zeriei, Etimad Washah
Programme: TIFF Docs (North American premiere)
From Ground Zero is an urgent reminder of the forgotten realities behind the news headlines of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. As the war rages on, updates on bombings pop up regularly. It’s clear that the destruction in Gaza is immeasurable and the depth of human suffering is staggering, but these reports are by their nature limited. This film – a collection of 22 separate visions by various filmmakers from the territory – is a courageous and devastating reminder that in this war, as in any other, individuals’ lives are forever impacted. It is triggering, it is gut wrenching, and it is absolutely necessary.
In November 2023, Gaza-born director Rashid Masharawi founded the Masharawi Fund for films and filmmakers in Gaza. The purpose was to provide Palestinian artists with a means of documenting the physical damage and emotional pain in their midst. More importantly, this project is an artistic outlet for all of that hardship. Through these short films, the artists are able to communicate the depth of human suffering and the wide-ranging impacts on Palestinians. In its entirety, this project reminds viewers that creative expression is sometimes the best way to make sense of the incomprehensible.
The films included in From Ground Zero, all lasting from about three to six minutes, run the gamut of genres and styles with a mix of fiction, documentary, docu-fiction, animation, and experimental cinema. There’s an immediacy evident throughout the group. And there’s a simplicity of style, no matter the approach, that strengthens the impact of each idea.
Individuals are often speaking directly to the camera about their circumstances, or the consequences of the bombings. There is no talk of politics and who is right or wrong. That’s not the point. This direct address provides an instant bond with the audience. It’s a technique used often in cinema to draw the audience in but the difference here is the epic scale of a tragedy that is still unfolding: this creates a shattering experience for the viewer. Everything around these individuals is being destroyed.
The styles range from observations to deeply subjective thoughts and feelings. Some events are staged and even animated, but the collective experience is unified by the fact that the viewer is being invited to witness evidence of the devastation firsthand. It’s slice-of-life filmmaking operating on a variety of levels. There are no overriding shots of bombs dropping. The viewer is placed in the midst of the lives of individuals. As many even say throughout these films, this is not a generic account of numbers, as one would find in news reports – this is a collective portrait of individual stories and experiences.
What’s remarkable is the range of experiences captured across different sectors of the population. We see the effects of the war on families, as in “No Signal” when we follow a man trying to find his brother buried under the rubble of a bombed-out building. At the same time, he is trying to comfort his niece, a little girl worried about her father, basically a child sitting helpless amongst the rubble. “Selfies” and “Echo” provide more meditative reflections, each taking in the surroundings as the audience listens to the subjects’ thoughts on the audio track. These sounds invariably clash with the serenity that these individuals have desperately sought out as they sit overlooking the sea.
The films that focus squarely on the children are the most gut wrenching. Reality and fantasy mix in the most heartbreaking and effective ways. In “Flashback,” a young girl recalls the bombing of her house but also reminisces about her now gone mother. She seems shell-shocked but her strength shines through as she then escapes into the music of her headphones and dances amongst the ruins. Similarly, in “Charm,” one of the more dream-like films, a young girl escapes into her imagination, picturing herself and others dancing. “Soft Skin” documents children processing their grief while participating in art therapy. As they work on their animated pieces, they open up about their personal experiences of loss. On the other hand, in “A School Day,” a young boy follows a certain daily schedule by gathering his schoolbooks. He walks to the gravesite of his beloved teacher. The audience comes to realize that the boy is seeking normalcy and comfort not just from this routine but from the memory of this safe adult figure in his pre-war life.
It’s obvious when watching From Ground Zero that these filmmakers are documenting daily life in Gaza using increasingly limited resources at hand. Yes, there are cameras and equipment sometimes, but often there’s only cellphone footage. Camera movements are furtive and messy, shot on the fly, but, in these circumstances, how can they be anything but? Audiences familiar with reportage from war zones will be familiar with such an aesthetic. The actual footage may spring from an unsophisticated basis, but each moment is captured with definitive purpose.
Although scattered throughout, there are also films that highlight resilience and a fighting spirit. The Palestinians’ insistence on holding onto hope is inspiring. The film “No” depicts a woman refusing all the negative: she simply will not make a film about suffering. Instead, she looks for a way to present music and to use it as a means of escape, to celebrate life as long as it lasts. Perhaps this is the only way to stay sane and it is certainly a respite that gives the viewer release as well.
Because of its fluid nature, its mix of genres, styles and points of view, From Ground Zero offers an unprecedented insight into daily life in Gaza that is often poignant beyond words. This is not an easy watch, but it is a rewarding one. There is a vital life force presented here. This compilation of short films is unlike anything you’re likely to see. Simply by its presence, From Ground Zero becomes a triumph of the human spirit. It presents a multifaceted existence that is both fraught with danger and heartbreak, and a wide-ranging artistic expression of resilience and hope.
From Ground Zero premiered at TIFF 2024.
Get more coverage from this year’s festival here.
