As freewheeling as a travelogue, Lana Daher’s mercurial documentary eschews talking heads and voiceover, drawing instead from more than 20,000 hours of archival footage to channel the resilient spirit of Beirut. Reflecting the non-linear movement of history, the film abandons chronology, zigzagging between disparate events, film clips and newsreels, TV programmes and home videos. Rich with a sense of play as well as melancholy, this stylistic approach conjures the precarity of life in the Lebanese capital. Moments of everyday joy – a wedding celebration, a family outing – are interspersed with startling images of hollowed-out buildings and bombed cars. Here, war seems never-ending and peace is fragile.
The film resurrects painful sociopolitical chapters, including the brutal 15-year Lebanese civil war and Israel’s repeated invasions of the country, yet also makes room for gentle humour and beauty. There’s also a deliberate emphasis on popular culture, with the inclusion of hit pop songs; one particularly exhilarating section is set to Dalida’s classic disco track Laissez-Moi Danser, played over dancing scenes both fictional and real. The sequence is immediately followed by a shot of a garbage dump, a stark reminder of reality; off kilter as it is, this tongue-in-cheek edit feels like an ode to the collective courage of Lebanese people. Amid the wartime upheavals, the music goes on.
