The pen is mightier than the sword. Without wishing to appear naive, I do believe this is often true. One powerful drawing can have more impact, nationally and even globally, than a thousand bullets. But can the pen also be mightier than the tank? Than the missile? Than an army? I believe so, when the circumstances are right, but it’s clear the odds aren’t so great.
This is the dilemma facing Syrian political cartoonist Amani Al-Ali. On the one hand, she has no choice: she has to draw. It’s her life. And she believes in it. Her cartoons target both the war and the position of women in Syrian society generally. It’s a war on two fronts, you could say.
We see many of her cartoons in Behind the Lines – a great title for sure – which is part of the Draw for Change! series (awarded Best Documentary Series at Canneseries 2023) about female cartoonists fighting for gender equality. Instead of the news of the day, the cartoons by ‘Amany’ (her pen name) usually reflect more general issues. Especially those concerning the position of women in Syria – who are drawn as silenced and attacked, yet resistant. But she also draws cartoons about al-Assad and Putin destroying her country. Some of her other work demonstrates a much more realistic and detailed style – underlining the fact that to master the simplified style of cartoon art, one first has to know how to draw naturalistically.
Comments under her posts can be brutal; death threats are not uncommon. Both from pro-regime forces and from jihadist militias in what is, for now, called ‘free Idlib’. The city is the last rebel stronghold against the resurgent forces of president al-Assad, which are backed by Russian bombing.
Should I stay or should I go? That’s the question with which Behind the Lines begins, and it’s the question with which the documentary ends – no further spoilers. ‘Stay’, with all the risks that entails, as ‘the only female caricaturist in Syria’, as Amani describes herself. Or ‘go’, in the hope of greater freedom, not only for herself, but also for her art. ‘Why did you draw her with a veil?’ ‘Why didn’t you draw her with a veil?’ As it is, she’s stuck between two extremes. And yet, she continues.
Behind the Lines is the portrait of a strong woman. Even stronger, because we also see her weakness, her doubts, her desperation. Doing what she does in spite of that, is what makes her and her art so impressive.
At the beginning of the documentary, the set-up is elegantly explained by a telephone call. Exiled Syrian directors Alaa Amer and Alisar Hasan, who are in Berlin, are unable to travel to Syria because of the war. But they know a trustworthy cameraperson in Idlib. Could he come and do the filming? I will have to ask my father and brothers, Amani replies. They do not appear on screen. But they do, clearly, agree – because next we have cameraperson Abdo filming in her flat.
This brief introduction tells us many things we need to know. That Syria is physically cut off. That Idlib is still digitally connected to the rest of the world. That there exists at least one female political cartoonist in Syria. That male family members need to give permission for an unknown male professional to enter a woman’s apartment. And, contrary to stereotypes, that there are Syrian men supporting her work.
Filmed almost entirely in her apartment, Behind the Lines becomes an intimate portrait. While she’s working on her cartoons and discussing her hopes, fears and options, she (unmarried and childless which, we are reminded, is a big deal for a 35-year-old woman in Syria) shares the apartment with her sister and her sister’s children. Amani is especially close to her young niece Bisan who lost some of her hair and one eyebrow because of her fear of war. She teaches Bisan drawing, in between her own work. And Bisan is shocked, and completely withdraws, when she realises Amani is considering leaving.
And then there are the bombings, the air raid alarms, the hiding in the basement and the endless news reports about death and destruction. It’s war in a living room, in a way. It’s the absurdity of the normality of war. And in the middle of it all, Amani can watch people online, live, visiting an exhibition of her work in Italy. So close, yet so far away. Thankfully, she also has an exhibition in her home town. At first she is hesitant: are people really interested in her drawings, with all the problems they are facing in a city at war? But when the exhibition opens, and she is there, she welcomes every visitor proudly and with self-assurance. And she defends, explains and promotes her work as an unapologetic artist.
There are a few striking animated scenes in Behind the Lines, based on Amani’s drawings. They show scenes of war in a way that the live-action camera couldn’t capture. Because, just like her drawings, these animations are not just about the facts of war – but about how it feels.
This is also what she explains to a group of young girls, in what is my favourite scene in the documentary. She teaches them cartooning: how to use simple lines, how to draw basic cartoon eyes that clearly express different emotions. But more importantly, and with even more fervour, she tells this next generation of women that they need to draw what they feel – about the war, about life, about being a woman in Syria. She shows them a simple drawing of two faceless bodies holding each other, with just a touch of eroticism. “My brother was telling me: I’ll forget I have a sister”, Amani tells the girls. “Just because of the drawing?” one girl asks incredulously. “Just because of the drawing.”
Next, we see one of the girls copying it, diligently. An enormously moving image of hope.
Belgium/France/Luxembourg/Germany/Netherlands, 2023, 70 minutes
Director Alaa Amer and Alisar Hasan
Production Clin d’oeil films
Producers Hanne Phlypo
International sales Autlook Filmsales
Script Vincent Coen, Guillaume Vandenberghe, Alaa Amer, Alisar Hasan
Cinematography Abdo Fayyad
Editing Neel Cockx, Céline Ducreux, Gladys Joujou
Sound Bakor Fayyad, Ingrid Simon, Anthony Juret
Music Kyan Bayani
