Cyril Aris’ new documentary Dancing on the Edge of a Volcano charts a filmmaking journey.
On 4 August 2020, an explosion rocked the city of Beirut. A vast cache of ammonium nitrate being stored at the port of the Lebanese capital caught fire and erupted in devastating fashion, killing hundreds, injuring thousands, and causing billions of dollars of damage. It was a catastrophe that literally shook the country and was heard hundreds of miles away. In the aftermath of such a cataclysm, the team behind the forthcoming film shoot of Mounia Akl’s Costa Brava, Lebanon had a host of difficult decisions to make and hurdles to overcome. Aris’ film transforms the typically ancillary behind-the-scenes doc into a vital and moving depiction of collective endeavour and a reflection on the artistic process.
Although Akl’s film was not actually being shot in Beirut, but up in the mountains, the city becomes the focal point for much of Aris’ film as everyone involved in the proposed shoot ruminates on what it means to make art, and how possible it is to do so, in the wake of such a tragedy. Dancing on the Edge of the Volcano opens right in the midst of things, cutting from a mournful clip of a bombed-out Beirut in 1980 in Maroun Baghdadi’s Whispers straight to audio and video footage from directly after the explosion: “Everything is destroyed,” cries one voice. “Did anyone talk to Mom? She’s not picking up,” worries another. It’s a visceral opening that is only made more impactful by the following voiceover from news reports that speak of the corruption that led to the explosion.
Living in buildings that no longer have windows, and having a cinematographer who has lost the use of one eye in the explosion, it was obviously a difficult decision whether the production should proceed at all. Akl is adamant that stability in Lebanon is something semi-mythical and that they must hold onto their momentum, but she could hardly have been prepared for the mass protests, flash floods, financial crises, power outages and global pandemic that would come to plague them throughout the shoot and post-production. How can artists continue to create when they are constantly fighting against a tide, she wonders to her father in a candid moment in which futility creeps into her thoughts. “I believe that the accumulation of tragedies can give birth to something extraordinary,” he wisely intones.
At one point, the cinematographer, Joe Saade, explains in voiceover that the appeal of Beirut once lay in its chaotic nature, but that now that chaos had gone too far. Aris cuts immediately to a voiceover from Baghdadi’s Whispers, which romantically addresses the young people of Beirut who go to parties and try to live their lives, despite the persistent sounds of bombs. The film pointed cuts between the youth of today’s city and those of Baghdadi’s film, expressing with its montage a semblance of the cyclical rhythms of history and the recurring misfortunes of the Lebanese people.
However, all of these allusions to continued heartache and very immediate depictions of struggle are juxtaposed against the film shoot itself. The making of Costa Brava, Lebanon becomes almost like a soothing balm for all those involved, even though its dystopian setting hardly diverts attention from the ills of the world around it, the cast and crew seem to respond to a sense of warming embrace that their communal efforts afford.
Aris does well to capture a variety of intimate moments, from the first time some young actors rehearse timidly with Israeli lead actor Saleh Bakri (whose voyage to get to Beirut is a compelling side-story on its own), to people sharing meals and laughter amid the tumult. “I forgot all about the world around us, the pandemic, the crises, everything,” explains Bakri after they wrap. In often concentrating on the potential power of art via the effect it can have on its audience and society, these delicate asides remind us of the power it can have as an outlet for the creators. And all the while, Aris keeps Beirut in focus, specifically through Akl’s own relationship with the city, with recurring motions towards the resilience of the city and its people even after the accumulation of tragedies.
Director, screenplay: Cyril Aris
Producer: Myriam Sassine, Katharine Weser
Cinematography: Joe Saade
Editing: Nadia Ben Rachid, Cyril Aris
Music: Anthony Sahyoun
Sound: Victor Bresse
Production companies: Abbout Productions (Lebanon), Reynard Films (Germany)
Venue: Karlovy Vary International Film Festival (Crystal Globe)
In Arabic, English, French
87 minutes
