Cineuropa sat down to chat with Abdallah Al-Khatib, director of Chronicles from the Siege [+lee también:
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entrevista: Abdallah Al-Khatib
ficha de la película], which had its world premiere in Berlinale’s Perspectives and won the GWFF Best First Feature Award. In his acceptance speech, Al-Khatib said that the German government “are partners in the genocide in Gaza by Israel. I believe you are intelligent enough to recognise this truth,” causing German Environment Minister Carsten Schneider to leave the ceremony. Al-Khatib’s statement and the photo of his crew holding a Palestinian flag next to Berlinale’s artistic director Tricia Tuttle caused tension in Germany (read news).

Before we start our conversation, the director warns that he doesn’t want to comment on this situation and wants to focus on the film. He breaks down his creative process for us and shares how the fact that the film was produced independently freed him from external expectations.

Cineuropa: Your film is in a way a continuation of your documentary Little Palestine (Diary of a Siege) [+lee también:
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ficha de la película], which you shot in your hometown of Yarmouk. What did fiction allow you to explore that the documentary did not?
Abdallah Al-Khatib: While I was making Little Palestine, there were many stories and details I wanted to include, but it was impossible. In one film - especially a documentary - you cannot talk about everything. You are limited by the material you have and by the structure of reality itself. For six years I carried the idea of returning to the siege, but I did not know in which form. I wasn’t sure whether it would be another documentary or something else. I discovered the shape of the film through the process. I began with a short film, and only later, together with my producer, decided to expand it into a feature composed of five interconnected stories. I wanted to focus on aspects of siege life that we rarely see on television or in cinema, especially in Palestinian contexts. The film could take place in Yarmouk, in Gaza, in Jenin, in Beirut - the location is not strictly defined. What mattered was to explore things that are almost taboo: a person looking for cigarettes, for sex, speaking about cinema, worrying about love. People think that during a siege you only focus on food, water and medicine - and yes, these are essential - but we also try to survive mentally and emotionally. We try to preserve our psychological health, not just our bodies.

Each storyline adopts a different tone or a genre - horror, comedy, thriller. How did you shape these shifts so they feel coherent?
I tried to reflect life under siege as I experienced it. Sometimes we would be laughing together and, one second later, we would hear that someone had been killed. Everything changes instantly. That instability is part of war. The film is based on true stories and on my own memories, especially the last two parts: the meeting between Huda and Faris and the one in the hospital. This is exactly how it happened. I didn’t choose a genre; the stories reflect how I experience reality.

You show people supporting one another, but also stealing cigarettes and hiding food, in a way that makes me empathise with them; I don’t judge them. Why was it important to include these morally ambiguous moments?
I wasn’t trying to create empathy; I was looking for solidarity and understanding. We’re not “perfect” victims, and we are not criminals either – as they show us in cinema. We’re just people looking for a normal life in an abnormal situation, like the siege. It’s important not to show characters living under war in a superficial way, like filmmakers from the outside trying to show us. I gave my protagonists complexity: the same person who gives bread to Arafat later eats sugar and doesn't share it with anyone. Faris wants to make love with Huda, ignores people coming for help, and then later goes to the hospital to donate blood. Every character has two or three sides. In Yarmouk camp there were so many radical or bad people, but no one had the right to kill us or make us suffer under the siege. No one deserves to be killed or starved because they are imperfect. Human beings are complex everywhere in the world, and war does not erase that complexity.

You once spoke about a possible new genre - “films of war” - emerging mainly from Syria. Do you think the way filmmakers depict war has evolved in recent years?
Everything changes, of course. Some directors try to find new cinematic language, while others remain trapped in patterns shaped by Western expectations. Many filmmakers from our region are influenced by what European audiences want to see. When we write or develop projects, we often ask ourselves whether European audiences will accept them, instead of asking whether our own people will like it or not. It's a big mistake. In my case, I was fortunate because the production was very small and independent. We did not receive European funding during development, so I did not feel pressure to adjust the film to external expectations. My first question was always: will my people see themselves in this film? Will they feel it reflects their experience? After shooting and assembling the first cut, we applied for funding and received support from Tunisia, Morocco, Algeria and Qatar - from Arab countries. That allowed me to maintain the film exactly as I wanted it. Even later, when sales agents suggested cutting certain parts because they might be “too hard” for audiences, I refused. You cannot fragment an experience like life under siege to make it more comfortable. It is a whole experience - you either take it or leave it.