Nezouh was released in 2024 and screened at Cannes, a film from Syria about the upheaval of
Nezouh was in every sense of the word, a ground-breaking film. A wonderful mixture of magical realism and harsh realities of
Ms. Kaadan kindly took time out of her busy schedule to talk to me about the film, ahead of a special screening of the film at Garden Cinema on Saturday 13th December at 8pm as part of the Arab Film Club. Tickets are still available.
Interview
What was the genesis of the film?
It started with a photograph from a besieged area — an image of a building destroyed by regime bombing. There was a huge hole in the roof where the shell had hit. But through all the dust and rubble, a beam of light was coming in. It looked almost magical. That moment stayed with me. Even in the heart of destruction, there was light. Even in war, there was still hope. That’s when I began writing. I wanted to speak about the moments people never saw in the news — not just the violence, but the resilience, the humour, the small joys that helped us carry on. You need that hope to keep resisting, especially in a war that’s gone on for more than 15 years
How much of you is within the film and your family history?
All my films have something of me in them — isn’t that true for most filmmakers? Maybe it also comes from my background in documentary. Most of the characters are real people I met in life, and often I even keep their real names. I feel that changing them might somehow jinx them. But when I left Syria, I was in my thirties. So it’s part reality, part personal experience, and part metaphor — elevated by fiction.
What was the production like?
Gruelling. We were shooting in August in Gaziantep, in 40°C heat (104°F), in abandoned areas so neglected they looked like they’d already been through a war. Technically, it was also a very challenging film to make — with complex camera movements, cranes, holes in the ceiling, and a cast that included both amateur child actors and some of the biggest stars from our region, all working together. I was especially careful with the kids. Even after three engineers assured me it was safe for them to film on the roof — which had three holes in it — I insisted the production build another set, on location, where the roof was only one floor high. So the shots looking down through the holes were filmed in a different location from the apartment scenes.
On top of that, this was a small independent production, and most of our actors were Syrians from the diaspora — we had to cast them from all over the world. It was a huge challenge for a film with such a limited budget, and it couldn’t have been done without a passionate team who went the extra mile with me to make everything feel as authentic as possible.
Did you rehearse with your cast?
Yes, I rehearsed — especially with the kids. I started with a group of children rehearsing for a week, and at the end of that week, we found our lead actress, Hala, who played Zeina. She was 12 years old, and this was her first time acting.
For a whole month, we invited the kids and their parents for rehearsals — but we didn’t begin with the script. Instead, we focused on vocal exercises, improvisation, climbing and fishing games, and general fitness. The parents were happy — it felt more like a summer camp than a traditional rehearsal. During that time, I worked a lot on improvisation, and would often adapt the dialogue based on how the kids naturally expressed themselves. Only in the final week did we start working with the script, and even then, I didn’t want them to memorize it fully. From my previous experience, I knew that once children memorize lines a certain way, it can be difficult to redirect them emotionally.
By the time we arrived on set, the kids were incredible — they even surprised the professional actors with their presence and confidence. And yes, I also worked with a talented storyboard artist based in the UK, Hasan Raza.
What were your film influences?
I think all the films we watch, the books we read, they influence our work, even in ways we don’t always realise. But for Nezouh, Life is Beautiful and The Bicycle Thief were key — neorealist films that deal with heavy themes through a gentle, almost magical lens. That balance between harsh reality and emotional poetry really resonated with me. Also, The Hole by Tsai Ming-liang surprised me — the way it also explores isolation and human connection through a hole in the ceiling, though in a completely different context. That unexpected parallel stayed with me.
Its been 18 months since the film was released, has your opinion altered of it since then?
Always — with every film I make. Over time, your relationship to the work changes. You begin to see what you could have done differently, or what you still didn’t manage to say. But maybe that’s what keeps me going in this very difficult industry — the feeling that I haven’t yet said everything I need to say, and the constant desire to explore something new.
Helene Louvart, is a rising cinematography star, what was your relationship like?
Hélène is simply awesome. She was a dynamo for the entire team — able to adapt in any country, with any crew, and always supporting your vision sincerely and without ego. Working with her, I discovered that the more experienced and talented a person is, the more humble, passionate, and generous they tend to be.
She’s especially supportive of women filmmakers, and once she’s on set, she brings this beautiful energy. She’s the last person standing, always smiling, at the end of a long shoot day, as if this battlefield of filmmaking were just a walk on the beach for her. She’s really cool.
There are moments of levity running throughout the film, do you think it's important to laugh through trauma and bad times?
I believe we laugh with people we feel equal to. And I wanted the audience to watch the film and see us not only as victims, but as human — to see the characters as friends they can laugh with, cry with, understand, and even criticise. Just like anyone else.
What are you working on at the moment?
I'm working on several projects right now, all still in development — and getting a film made is never easy. But I’m excited, because these new projects are different in style and genre, which brings new challenges and new energy. Hopefully, we’ll be able to share them with audiences soon.
What was the last good thing you saw?
This year, I was really moved by Palestine 36 by Annemarie Jacir and All That’s Left of You by Cherien Dabis — both stunning films. It’s powerful to see two Palestinian women directors competing for the Oscars. Die, My Love by Lynne Ramsay was breathtaking — a beautiful, out-of-the-box film. It almost feels like an essay, and to see that kind of approach pulled off with Hollywood stars is rare. And I also loved Sorry Baby by Eva Victor — a subtle, delicate film. So yes, it’s a good year for cinema, because many of the films I loved were made by women directors. A hopeful one.
