For decades, through civil war and economic hardship, the Lebanese people prided themselves on their resilience, but following the August 2020 port explosion in which at least 218 people were killed and an untold number of lives shattered, the attitude changed to “fuck resilience.” That’s the space occupied by Myriam El Hajj’s enthralling yet painfully sad Diaries from Lebanon, a documentary trying hard to remain resilient in the face of endless setbacks. Begun in 2018 when political change finally seemed possible, the film tracks the hopes of multiple generations who see the possibility of an equitable future tantalizingly close, only to have them incinerated first by the entrenched elite and then the explosion that decimated, physically and psychologically, the entire population. For those who’ve been following Lebanon’s tragedies, Diaries can be a difficult watch, like seeing docus of the Egyptian Revolution and being reminded of the excitement followed by the crushing realization that positive change has not been allowed to happen, but it’s also an excellent lens into the Lebanese psyche, beautifully made and deserving attention.
The documentary follows three figures through the rush of excitement when change seemed within everyone’s grasp, shifting to the cycle of anger and despair that followed. Joumana Haddad is a bright-eyed activist entering electoral politics for the first time in 2018, when a long-delayed vote heralded a new dawn for the country. She’s poised and articulate, with plenty of positive enthusiasm: she knows instinctively how to put herself across, and her message of democratically clearing out the warlords and ruling families is infectious. Even when her legitimate victory is annulled the next day, she maintains her fight for accountability and justice.
Georges Moufarej is the film’s enigmatic voice of the past, a one-legged former commander who claims to be harboring major secrets about the Civil War, the kind so dangerous they could bring down men in power. Nicknamed “Father of the Night” because he seemingly never slept, Georges keeps his cards close to his chest, so much so that neither El Hajj nor the audience really know whether the things he hints at are real, which makes him doubly intriguing as he sits in a barber’s chair, cooly suggesting bombshells that he refuses to reveal “until the right time.”
Representing the younger generation is Perla Joe Maalouli, a visual artist exasperated by the entrenched corruption and furious that the population hasn’t risen up to wrest control from the vampiric power brokers who’ve sucked the nation’s blood dry. That’s what seems to be happening in October 2019, when a beaten-down populace took to the streets, and Perla became a loud voice in the protests. Diaries cannily positions Joumana and Perla side-by-side as two faces of the protest each working towards the same goal: Joumana is self-possessed and articulate, ready to take on the system and work via legal means for change, to ensure a structure is in place. Perla is younger and impatient, on the streets leading chants until she’s hoarse, putting everything else in her life on hold. Meanwhile Georges looks on with cool detachment, saying the protests won’t work because there’s no real leader.
Lockdown put a pause on the demonstrations just when energies were beginning to flag, but then the explosion happened on August 4th, and it felt like Armageddon. Joumana, previously so poised and put-together, is psychologically fractured, and a sense of paralysis settles on a city that’s been completely destabilized. One senses that El Hajj herself kept going by focusing on the film, and indeed Joumana herself says, once the initial shock lessens, that she’s decided something like this will either make you or break you; she’s decided it will make her. But how? How can a country pick itself up after being beaten down time and time again? Even Georges seems a shadow of himself, older, weaker more hollowed out.
By 2021 Perla is back to protesting, wary and yet defiant. The documentary ends ambiguously, as she sings from her rooftop for a guerilla broadcast, knowing there’s a group of men downstairs threatening to attack her for being a communist. It’s a dangerous act – we never know how dangerous it became – born of desperation, undertaken knowing there’s not much more to lose. This is Lebanon’s latest stage, with its citizens once again picking themselves up and moving forward, trying to combat disappointment and fatigue. There’s really nowhere else to go. As El Hajj’s uncles says towards the start, in voiceover, “The country has too many evil eyes.”
It would be incorrect to leave the impression that Diaries is a downbeat film, even though the knocks come hard and fast. Instead, there’s an underlying note of defiance and hope in the younger generation whose toxic inheritance is theirs to wrestle with and neutralize. Throughout, El Hajj keeps a place for herself as witness and interlocutor, an unobtrusive presence attempting to come to grips with the past and present with no guarantees for the future. Editor Anita Perez deftly brings together the three main strands, carrying the documentary through to its uncertain conclusion.
Director: Myriam El Hajj
Written by: Myriam El Hajj
With: Joumana Haddad, Georges Moufarej, Perla Joe Maalouli
Producers: Myriam Sassine, Carine Ruszniewski
Cinematography: Jihad Saadé, Myriam El Hajj, Mohamed Siam
Editing: Anita Perez
Music: Marc Codsi
Sound: Thomas Robert, Jean-Guy Véran
Production companies: About Productions (Lebanon), GoGoGo Films (France)
World sales: MAD Solutions
Venue: Berlinale (Panorama)
In Arabic
110 minutes
