“It Became Life, It Became Survival” - FIFDH and OMCT Spotlight Syrian Film Director Lina

What made you decide to start filming?

We started shooting in the summer of 2011, and a lot was already happening in Syria, but it was not clear how things were going to go. I was optimistic, thinking it would be over in six months, maybe a year, with a release within two years. It took 12 years.

It took more than five years of filming, and then many more to edit, because the country hadn’t stabilised, and the characters’ decision to participate in the film shifted with every new development, for their own safety. We had to go back, take characters out, then put them back in, and make amendments to the storyline. But it wasn’t all negative. During this time, deepfake technology improved and gave us a solution for the anonymity issue of some of the characters who chose to stay in Syria in a way that is safe and does not interfere with the visual narrative.

What was the most challenging part about the filming process?

Not knowing where it's heading. As a filmmaker, you have, even in documentaries, a rough script, or an idea of where you are heading, but we couldn’t. It was like surfing, we just had to keep up with weird twists and turns. At some point, there were so many arrests in the group that I was filming, the characters just kept going in and out of jail, and at any given moment, we would lose one of them. I was arrested several times and the rest of the film crew had to come up with plan Bs for ‘what if we lose the director, who also happens to be the camera person and the sole contact to all the other characters, how do we finish the film?’ There was even one editing session that was held in my absence because I was detained, and they didn't know when I would be released. It was really challenging.

What was the most challenging part about having to change your identity several times throughout filming?

It was very confusing, but it was also very necessary. In order to make it work, you have to internalise it to a certain extent, which was challenging. This confuses your relationships with the people you're working with, with the people you're socialising with, with the people that trust you, despite only knowing your fake name. Very strong bonds are formed under extremely difficult conditions and something always felt wrong about not being able to be fully honest with people. it also created these compartments of who I am because different parts of me had different names in different places… and they didn't always get along. Walking out of it was also a challenge. Normalising being one person and only using one name, only answering to one name. It was quite a journey. 

Towards the end of the documentary, you talk about your experience with your arrest. Did what you experienced in custody change your approach to the film, or your activism? 

 I did not encounter anything during my arrest that I did not previously know exists and happens. What was detrimental was the repetition of detentions because you know you might get away with it once, maybe twice, if you're lucky three times. But when I was released for the third time, I realised I did not know anybody that survived a fourth arrest. I felt like a cat with seven lives and I was really running out of them. I think this affected not only my decision-making in the film, but decision-making in my life in general, which obviously had consequences. 

What are three things you hope people remember after watching your film? 

Number one is that simplistic reductionist scenarios of war into black and white, good and bad are never true. Number two is that nobody has a blueprint for what to do in these cases. People improvise, people try to find solutions on the spot under pressure, and these are not always ideal. But also, people can be much braver than they think, because at the end of the day we are survivors, all of us, and there is a lot more to us than we sometimes give ourselves credit for. And number three, friendship is really important. 

You are a filmmaker, but also a human rights defender. What are your hopes now for Syria and its people?

I hope people will be able to recover. I hope people will be given a break, given a chance to process everything they went through, given a bit of time to find a way out of this gigantic mess. It will take generations to rebuild the country. I understand that people have endured so much for so long that they cannot take one more day of it, so there is understandably also a lot of emotions. I just hope that we have the ability to open our hearts a bit more, understand each other a bit more and that people will in return give us the chance to process everything.

What's next for you?

When I started making the documentary, it was because I wanted to. Then halfway through, it was no longer an option, not just because I started it, but because it became life, it became a survival mechanism.

Understanding the implications and how much work and pieces of yourself it takes to finish a film, I am now much more careful about jumping into new projects. I am not currently planning on making another film, I just know it will call me when it becomes necessary again. Meanwhile, there is so much to do in every single aspect you can imagine, both in Syria and outside. It was very heartwarming to go back to Syria in December and see an entire generation of independent journalists going out there, covering, with their cameras.
Women photojournalists that did not exist before in Syria, willing to face censorships of all sorts. It really takes a load off my shoulders. I don't need to be rushing the way I used to. There are young people doing it now and I think that's really reassuring.