West Beirut

I feel like with everything happening right now, especially the war and what’s going on in Palestine, this movie reflects a part of what it could feel like to live in constant fear, or to be scared of losing the people you love. Even if the situations are different, the emotions feel familiar. I think the movie itself was decent, but the reason I loved it so much is because it made me see the potential in Arabic cinema. It reminded me that Arabic films can be powerful, emotional, and meaningful when they focus on real human experiences instead of stereotypes. I also related a lot to Tarek. The way he constantly feels like he might lose his family really hit me, because that’s a feeling I carry too, even though I live in a safe country and my circumstances are very different. The fear itself still exists in the background, and the movie captured that anxiety really well. I felt like the film also signified unity through the inclusion of May, showing how people from different backgrounds can come together in moments of fear and uncertainty. It wasn’t just about one person’s pain, but about how shared struggle creates connection. I also found it really sad how the movie reflects how, as Arabs, we’ve lost a sense of safety and stability, and how our identity and what we fight for feels constantly under threat. There’s this ongoing feeling of being stuck in cycles of conflict and loss, which makes the film feel heavier and more emotional. For me, the movie wasn’t just a story, it felt like a reminder of how fragile life can be in our region, and how fear, unity, and identity are all deeply connected