We Are Inside is a poetic journey through family, politics, and generational change in Lebanon.
We Are Inside, directed by Farah Kassem (Lebanon, 180 minutes, 2024), is part of the Best of Fests section of IDFA 2024. The film premiered earlier this year at Visions du Réel in Switzerland.
This film follows the day-to-day life of Mustapha Kassem (82-85), a retired mayor, and Farah Kassem (30-33) over the course of three years. Farah used to live abroad but returned to Tripoli, Lebanon to care for her father and to strengthen their relationship. Her mother has already passed away, and her father’s health is declining. During this time, the revolution in Tripoli against the reigning regime is getting started and plays a significant part in their lives, though it’s not overshadowing.
The film starts with Mustapha reading the introduction to his collection of poems to his daughter. He is very proud of her and the career she has built, as he is of his son, who does not make an appearance in the film. He shares that his happiness will never be complete until she is married, telling her he wishes she would find a partner. It comes from a place of love, but as a single, independent woman, Farah feels her father is implying she is incomplete without marriage. She expresses that she does not feel the need to be married to be complete. They repeat themselves a few times before the film moves on.
Most scenes are filmed in their home, where another housemate, Nana, takes care of the household. Her age is not shown, but she seems about a decade younger than Mustapha and has lived in Lebanon for 23 years. The household needs a lot of fixing; we see a washing machine on its last legs, though it is still holding on at the end of the film. Their home looks comfortable and cozy, though not luxurious. The film moves slowly, which suits the style, and between the dialogues, we see the traffic around their house. These scenes feel uneasy and ominous, as if something is in the air.
Some other scenes feature pigeons. These pigeons seem more at ease, and there appear to be many in the surroundings of their home. We see Farah visiting her father’s poetry club, where everyone around Mustapha looks up to him. They describe him as a great man and a great poet. According to Mustapha, poetry must be Arabic and have rhythm; rhyming is not enough. When Farah tries her hand at poetry, he calls it prose, clearly not meant as a compliment, and refuses to give her any feedback. Later on, we see he does give feedback to the other members of the poetry club, all male.
Farah writes about the pigeons and is determined to finish her poem. She turns to another member of the poetry club, who gives her the affirmation she needs along with constructive criticism. She recites her poem at the next poetry-club meeting and receives positive feedback, even from her father. However, when they are alone afterward, he stands by his initial opinion that her work is prose.
Throughout the film, we see multiple news stories about the ongoing revolution, and most characters express worry that politics are taking a turn for the worse. The older generations have lost hope, but Farah and the younger generations still believe change is possible. In one scene, Farah and her father do the math, revealing their ages, indicating the film is about the 2019 revolution. From the start of the revolution, the film feels more hopeful.
Much of the film depicts day-to-day life, with most scenes showing Farah setting up her camera and filming natural conversations in the house or at poetry-club meetings. Both Farah and Mustapha struggle with their health. Mustapha has multiple hospital appointments for an infection in his leg, which Farah takes him to. Other scenes show Farah talking to her doctor about her unexplained hearing loss, despite seeming in perfect health. They talk about having lived in Europe (France and Germany, for example), and her doctor shares his regret about moving back to Lebanon.
A handful of scenes show Farah asking her father questions about their relationship. Though she sets up the camera deliberately, it does not feel like an interview. She is open to hearing her father speak, though he is very closed off. It is clear he does not want to talk about their relationship any further.
As the film nears its end, we see children playing soccer on the street. In a field in front of them, further from the camera, a few goats roam around, creating a peaceful atmosphere. In the next scene, Farah is in Mustapha’s bedroom, where his bed is empty. He had not been well for a while. The subsequent scene shows Nana cleaning the room, and Farah asks her how she knew Mustapha had passed. Nana shares how she found him peacefully asleep, though something was off; he had more blankets than usual, despite the heater being on.
Later, they have a conversation about Nana moving to Lebanon from Sri Lanka and Farah possibly wanting to move abroad again now that her father has passed. In a voice-over, Farah shares why she wanted to make this film: to portray the relationship between a father and a daughter.
I think this film is much more than that. It is about different generations, political differences, understanding parental love, and hope for the future. The poetry plays a key part, as Mustapha uses it to make sense of the world around him, though no one seems to understand exactly what he is trying to say. It is clear his poetry is loved by many, showing that poetry is subjective.
