Insyriated, 2017.
Directed by Philippe Van Leeuw.
Starring Hiam Abbass, Mohsen Abbas, Juliette Navis, Diamand Abou Abboud, and Moustapha Al Kar.
SYNOPSIS:
As war rages outside in Damascus, a mother struggles to keep her family safe inside their barricaded apartment. But it’s only a matter of time before what’s happening outside finds a way into their sanctuary.
When the television news bombards us with the gunfire and explosions of civil war, the effect on civilians can easily be forgotten. Philippe Van Leeuw’s Insyriated opens the door on one single family who find themselves under siege on all sides.
The film’s opening birdsong rapidly gives way to the sounds of war: they’re not far away but, judging from the reaction of the chain-smoking grandfather, they’re a constant in his life and show no signs of abating. He’s just one of the last family still living in one particular apartment block. They’ve been joined by the young family who used to live in the flat above. And they’ve all barricaded themselves behind the front door in an effort to keep the hell of the outside world at bay, and to keep themselves safe.
But just minutes into the film it has a devastatingly direct effect on them. The young couple – Samir (Moustapha Al Kar) and Halima (Diamand Abou Abboud) – have decided to go to Beirut, so he leaves to finalise their plans. And, just a few yards away from the building, he’s gunned down by a sniper. Family maid Delhani (Juliette Navis) witnesses it all from the kitchen, tells the mother of the family Oum Yazan (Hiam Abbass) and is sworn to secrecy. Not easy when they have to watch Halima phoning her husband and getting no answer.
That early, and shocking, incident is the start of the ever-increasing tension which escalates towards the inevitable visit from the outside world. Two anonymous men get into the flat through the window and, while the family huddle behind the kitchen door, Halima is on the other side, trying to protect them. They can hear what’s happening, but don’t see any of it: we see some of it and it’s deeply distressing.
It’s the women – Oum Yazan in particular – who run a family where most of the men are absent. Her husband isn’t around, so it’s down to her to keep a semblance of order. And she’s determined to keep up that appearance of normality, with regular meals at the formal dining table and a bathroom full of toiletries. But it’s all an illusion. They’ve next to no water – one of the younger children is rebuked for washing her hair – and the mayhem outside is getting closer. The biggest illusion of all is that barricaded front door. The camera returns to it regularly, each time showing it in a different light: initially protective, solid and immovable, it becomes futile and, ultimately, useless.
As a re-creation of life under siege in confined space, Van Leeuw’s film is effectively claustrophobic and nervily tense, but there are times when it tips over into the jarringly melodramatic. There’s endless unresolved questions. Why, for instance, does the family allow Halima to go through her ordeal when they easily outnumber the intruders? Water may be short, but food isn’t – yet where does it come from? They still have gas and, presumably, electricity otherwise their phones and laptop would have run out of juice long ago. Given all the destruction outside, it would be remarkable if they had just one, let alone both! And a clumsy piece of editing when some of the younger members of the family venture outside to check on Samir leaves a gap that could have added even further to the tension.
The title is incomprehensible. In some countries, it’s known as In Syria, so why not here? Insyriated sounds like an attempt to trivialise a subject that’s no laughing matter. It’s the most conspicuous problem in a film that so very nearly hits the mark, thanks mainly to its oppressive atmosphere and strong cast – Hiam Abbass and Diamand Abou Abboud in particular. Yet somehow it manages to miss it. Not by much, but enough to matter.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★
Freda Cooper. Follow me on Twitter, check out my movie blog and listen to my podcast, Talking Pictures.
Originally published September 6, 2017. Updated April 11, 2018.
