Venice 2022 Women Directors: Meet Soudade Kaadan – “Nezouh”

Soudade Kaadan is a Syrian director based in London. Her first feature fiction film, “The Day I Lost My Shadow,” was awarded the Lion of The Future for best debut at the 2018 Venice Film Festival, and the jury prize for directing at the LA Film Festival, and screened at various other fests including TIFF, BFI London, Busan, and IFFR. Her short film “Aziza” won the Sundance Grand Jury Prize in 2019.

“Nezouh” is screening at Venice Film Festival, which is taking place August 31-September 10.

W&H: Describe the film for us in your own words.

SK: “Nezouh” is a coming-of-age story set against the Syrian war, told with a metaphorical approach and darkly humorous tone. It follows 14-year-old Zeina and her family, whose lives are shaken after a bomb rips a giant hole in the roof of their building, exposing them to the outside world. What should be a tragedy — and it is — actually opens the ceiling and the windows of their closed house and for the first time, the little girl sleeps under the stars and meets the neighbor boys, discovering her first taste of freedom.

“Nezouh” in Arabic means the displacement of soul and people; it is the displacement of spirits and bodies in Syria. And with displacement, there is definitely change. “Nezouh” tries to talk about this inevitable invasion of light in the middle of this chaos. It is maybe also about the displacement of darkness.

W&H: What drew you to this story?

SK: I wanted to show a different approach and view of my city, Damascus, during the war. At that time, the media was only interested in big action stories about Syria, and I wanted in “Nezouh” to show the subtle and radical changes in the lives of the Damascene women during the war.

I wanted to show all this hope that broke through destruction. All those intense moments of laughter, love, and bonding, all those surrealist moments of trying to lead a normal quotidian life under bombing.

W&H: What do you want people to think about after they watch the film?

SK: I hope first that they will enjoy the film on every level, cinematic and story-wise. And then that they will think about how difficult it is to make the decision to leave and be a refugee or a displaced person. While on the other side of Mediterranean Sea, you only see the refugees, post-journey. That’s why I adopted a different, reverse strategy in this film. The father, Mutaz, refuses to leave the house even if it becomes dangerous, until the point the audience thinks how crazy it is stay, and not to leave. At that this moment, I hope the audience realizes and understands why there are refugees.

W&H: What was the biggest challenge in making the film?

SK: Every day was a challenge for this film, in all areas of making it. From shooting during Covid, to trying to make such a personal film, to most facilities being taken for the big-budget studio films. I was lucky I had great heads of department because they believed in this film.

Creatively, there was a challenge to express the war without seeing it, to show my destroyed city without a voyeuristic gaze. To make the house feel and breathe like a character and change with the characters’ journey. To find an amazing young actress for the role, to make all the VFX look realistic, impressive, and authentic. Every day was a challenged, indeed, but a beautiful challenge.

W&H: How did you get your film funded? Share some insights into how you got the film made.

SK: I started writing the script alone, trying to get few cinematic funds as director/producer to help me develop the script, such as Cinereach, Baumi Award, and DFI.

Once I had a script ready, I shared it with two producers I trust, Yu-Fai Suen and Marc Bordure, who tried to get funding from the U.K. and France. We got the backing from Film4/BFI in the U.K., who financed the film, and Canal+ in France, and we closed the financing with Starlight in the U.S., who reached out to me as they were looking to support diverse women filmmakers.

W&H: What inspired you to become a filmmaker?

SK: I never thought that I would become a filmmaker. There is no cinema school in Syria, and there was only one functioning cinema in Damascus, for commercial movies. Most films were banned, and cinema wasn’t included in our educational system. So, I studied theater at the Higher Institute of Damascus, where men were naturally encouraged to be directors and somehow women were only researchers and writers.

By coincidence, I became a film director — I was planning to study for a Master’s in Theater at Saint Joseph University in Lebanon, so when I went there, and when I was walking down the hallway, I found the cinema department and I felt that this is what I wanted to do. So I switched my studies to a film license.

When I held a video camera for the first time to film my first shot, I immediately knew that this is what I wanted to do all my life. I was 24 years old, and this is what I have done since then.

W&H: What’s the best and worst advice you’ve received?

SK: I always try to get advice from everyone around me and to learn from all the people I meet. We can’t make a film alone, we only make it by having thoughts and getting advice from a lot of experienced people around us. The best advice was from a friend who told me that it is better to make a personal film first than doing a commercial one first, and that my voice as a filmmaker is more important to show now in a film. 

The worst advice I received was while making my first film: someone advised us to make a French co-production with a producer we had never met, just to bring in financing. It was a big mistake, as co-production is a long journey, it can take years; it should be based on mutual trust, and not just money. They should believe in the film and in your culture. So for my second film, I took the time to get to know my producers before embarking on the journey, and to know they believed in my vision and supported me and my vision every step along the way until we made “Nezouh” together.

W&H: What advice do you have for other women directors?

SK: To try to be as demanding as if you are a white Western male director. We deserve the same rights and opportunities. I always try to ask myself, “What if I was a white male director, would I ask this or not?” Usually this ends any hesitation.

W&H: Name your favorite woman-directed film and why.

SK: I have a lot of favorite films directed by women: “Fish Tank” by Andrea Arnold, “The Piano” by Jane Campion, “Ratcatcher” by Lynne Ramsay, “The Wonders” by Alice Rohrwacher, and “Summer 1993” by Carla Simón. In all these films, the protagonists are women or young girls who are real, with all their flaws and beauty [communicated through] impressive cinematic language.

W&H: What, if any, responsibilities do you think storytellers have to confront the tumult in the world, from the pandemic to the loss of abortion rights and systemic violence?

SK: I believe in the freedom we give to filmmakers to talk about the subject matter that interests them. I believe that every film is a political act, without being political and without being propaganda. I’m coming from a region where our stories are about life-and-death situations, where we need to tell our stories urgently, as if it’s a cry. But I also believe this should be coming from the filmmaker and what she/he needs to tell personally, without any obligation of subject matter.

W&H: The film industry has a long history of underrepresenting people of color onscreen and behind the scenes and reinforcing — and creating — negative stereotypes. What actions do you think need to be taken to make it more inclusive?

SK: Simply to have more underrepresented people of color in powerful positions. It shouldn’t only be a garnish on the surface to show that we have ticked a few diversity boxes, it should be authentic and done with integrity. I believe in the importance of having women of color in positions of power — at studios, TV channels, commissioners, and film festivals — believe authentic stories result from this.

I always try to include women and underrepresented people like me in my team and crew. I think we all have the responsibility with each film and project we make to change this situation either on-screen or behind the camera.