La cueva

Feras Feyyad's sobering Documentary THE CAVE begins with one of the most striking opening shots of any recent film. A city sits quietly for several moments. And, then a missile comes flying seemingly out of nowhere and explodes. And, then another. And, then another. But, this isn't some Michael Bay Armageddon fantasy - it's a war torn city. And, the 'war' isn't being waged by some invading enemy -- but, by the nation's own leader.

The city is in a province of Syria that was attacked by it's evil tyrant Bashar al-Assad (abetted by Putin's Russia). But, THE CAVE isn't a political film. Instead, its focus isn't on the war on the ground, but by a tunnel burrowed beneath the city of Ghouta. Within those tunnels sits a hospital run by a hundred or so volunteers who chose to stay and help the victims of the constant bombardment rather than flee (or, at the very least, remain with their friends and families). The head of the hospital is Dr. Amani Ballour and unmarried 30ish woman. Beyond the enormous task of running a subterranean medical facility during a time of war, Amani has to assert herself in a patriarchal society which takes a dim view of 'working women' --- even her own family voices displeasure.

Feyyad and his team do laudable work under the circumstances. Feyyad balances the hospital and war horrors with the personal lives of Amani and her personnel. He doesn't dwell on the graphic details, but, doesn't shy away either (fair warning). At any moment a bomb can strike in the city and the entire facility becomes a full on E.R. (the tunnel also functions as a de facto bomb shelter for many). But, during the quieter moments, we see the doctors and laymen go about the mundane details like feeding the crew and trying to get the internet to function so as to keep open channels to the world above. The only real demerit is for Matthew Herbert's overly dramatic musical score. The material not only doesn't lend itself to such an approach, but, with all the sounds of battle and hospital work all around it isn't required.

THE CAVE certainly isn't easy viewing, but, it's an essential piece of filmmaking with a subject in Amani that is worth all the attention coming to her. A heroine.

A raw, brutal testimony of those that were left behind. The cinematography is outstanding. The sound is chilling. A portrait of humankind at both its worst and best. Certainly one of the hardest things I've ever watched, yet doing so might be our only chance to show respect for the heroic healthcare professionals and civilians depicted. It shook me to my core.

I urge you to see this great, great film. Despite the harrowing danger, the devastating destruction, this is one of the most uplifting films I've seen in years.

While the hospital personnel at The Cave learn to differentiate by sound the different types of warplanes flying overhead and their country of origin for survival, it was the heart-wrenching sound of another stretcher rolling into the hospital while making the floor and walls shake with the weight of a human being fighting for his life that I dreaded the most during my time watching the documentary. As a viewer I was struggling between wondering how much more of the reality presented to me I could take and wanting to reach through the screen and help them. That palpable was their urgency. It is the unfiltered questions coming out of Dr. Amani's own soul during her moments of most abatement and stress like "Is God really watching?" that fall like a bomb and shake the foundations of her own reality and the morals and practices of the culture around her. The Cave is a masterclass in both documentary filmmaking and in humanity.

The Cave is not a didactic or information-driven documentary. It's an actively observational grounding of the audience into a truth you have to see to believe-a spiritual appeal to the senses. For every bomb we see almost hit us, we are spared a screen full of text. For every infant hand we see reaching up for the doctor's stethoscope amidst the chaos following a blast, we are spared a formal, scripted interview sit-down or sound bite. When we see a gassed group of children brought to The Cave to die and wrapped in tablecloths because there are no replacements available for their chemically-stained clothes, we are diverted away from more standard informative fare that attempts to describe the indescribable.

This is not about the state of the Syrian war. This IS the Syrian war, enclosed from both ends, with the relentless reverberations of warplanes flying above ground and the normalization of a day-to-day constant of fear.

Most impactful was the perspective of the pediatrician (the subject of the film). Through clinical training, physicians grow a callus for their patients. Intentionally so, to remain calm, collected, rational. But also unintentionally, to subconsciously remove themselves from the trauma children experience in front of them on a daily basis. Seeing Dr. Amani crack, it destroyed me. Locking herself in the room and weeping, waiting for the next wave, not knowing what's going to come next. "Come home," her father insists on voicemail. But the clinic depends on her. It would be nothing without her. We're reminded that heroes are human and vulnerable.

I felt physically beaten down leaving the theater. I had to play my "It's going to be ok" playlist. I am not sure if it will, but if Amani can help these children find some momentary faith, I think we can all do better.