Home

Syria. A body undulating in the wind, in the evening light, a graceful and fragile silhouette of a dancer filmed close to the skin. Such is what is stated, in reverse, in the project of this first film by Rafat Alzakout: beauty and the work of art as a guide for a film shot in the turmoil of civil war while bodies become destroyed fl esh. We follow a small group of men including Ahmad the dancer, Taj the art teacher and former lieutenant, without forgetting, unseen but dialoguing with them, Alzakout. The fighting is nearby, but we only hear the story: here a search, there a bombardment. Dancing wherever possible, even in the puddles of a wet courtyard, or else sharing the sound of the melancholy breath of a fl ute, even with supposed enemies: we are far from the tumult of media images but at its very heart, which is precisely the paradox the film unravels. Their struggle is at least this as well, art as a space of resistance and freedom, and they are determined not to give it up, despite their doubts and fears. Rehearsing, acting, dancing, whatever the conditions. This will be their daily life and also their dream for the aftermath: he who dances will also find his loved one. Firstly in Manbij, city in northern Syria, where cultural events are organized, and then in this “Home” they occupy, a place of tranquillity. And exile, away from that other home called Syria, but always with the vital presence of the potential within oneself to create. (NF)