THE STORY – The love story of a London-based Lebanese journalist and a Syrian activist and cameraman as told through 13 years of personal archives across revolutions, war, and exile.
THE CAST – N/A
THE TEAM – Janay Boulos & Abd Alkader Habak (Directors/Writers)
THE RUNNING TIME – 85 Minutes
Revolution and romance intersect in “Birds of War,” a decade-spanning love story told from the personal archives of a London-based Lebanese journalist and a Syrian activist/photojournalist. Directors Janay Boulos and Abd Alkader Habak document the growth of their relationship as they navigate shifting political developments in their respective homelands, Lebanon and Syria. Boulos and Habak’s collective voices underline the courageous acts of those who bear witness to horror and choose to fight against it to protect their communities. Timely as ever, “Birds of War” is an echoing reminder that love and the resilience of the human spirit know no barriers.
The documentary begins in a state of uncertainty and intimacy. A text exchange between Boulos and Habak reads, “My bird. Are you safe?” Boulos, working as a journalist for BBC News at the time, was not in search of a story, but a person she cared deeply about. Many international journalists were banned from entering Syria during the civil war, and relied on activists such as Habak to provide ground-level footage. Initially, on the basis of news coverage, Boulos and Habak communicated mainly through text messages and voice notes to keep track of developments. Working as a cameraman in Aleppo, a city in northern Syria that became the country’s centre of conflict in 2012, Habak caught visceral moments of displacement and devastation in real-time. By framing the documentary largely around Habak’s footage, we’re given moments that would otherwise not see the light of day. In a scene that speaks to the film’s core of resilience, people garden on rooftops to provide their own food security. As one mentions, “Planting is not easy, but we need to live.”
Boulos and Habak also structure their debut documentary around the impact of perspective and the responsibility of journalistic integrity. In this film, a small interaction between two people goes a long way. On shaky grounds, Habak finds a solid emotional foundation with Boulos as they become more vulnerable with each other. The two adopt a term of endearment, “My bird,” likening themselves to birds wanting to flee from a cage. They exchange photos of themselves and footage of their landscapes. Boulos introduces him to her cat. Habak brainstorms coverage ideas for Boulos to pitch to her boss at the BBC’s Arabic Documentaries news division. One idea centers on how Idlib, the Syrian city where Habak and his family grew up, is famous for carpet weaving and pottery making. BBC eventually published a story in 2020, titled “Idlib before the war: Carpets, olives and handcrafts,” for which Habak interviewed residents about what a peaceful Idlib looked like.
The complexities between living and documenting inform so much of what we see in the film. Boulos and Habak have an intertwined objective as storytellers. Whether positioned in front of a newsroom camera or capturing handheld moments on the ground, both engage meaningfully with their environments to inform the world of what’s happening. The film transcends standard documentary techniques like talking head interviews in favor of ground-level footage and private archives. Combined with storytelling through audio clips, “Birds of War” maintains a personal perspective on widespread conflict and uses the footage to convey thoughtful journalistic questions. We see Boulos and Habak reflect on what home means to them, and confront the difficulty of putting down roots while not feeling a sense of belonging. Hearing their voices adds several layers of perspective on war, displacement, and sacrifices for a brighter future. In one tense scene of Habak traveling in Aleppo through the night, he has no idea where he is, but continues his journey with the intention of reaching Boulos in person. The scene is among the documentary’s most impactful moments, showing us the fight for human connection in real-time.
This scene also speaks to a larger context, where subjects of a news story are so often measured by profit before humanity. When a photo of Habak carrying a child to safety goes viral, he becomes a heroic symbol of the revolution and a mouthpiece for journalists’ interview requests. He questions why the word “hero” is being used when this isn’t the first time he has rescued someone. Hearing Habak reflect on the viral photo echoes a sentiment that Boulos had shared in an earlier scene. Growing up in Lebanon, she observed the challenges that media pluralism faced, and just how connected journalism and politics are. She did not want to become a political mouthpiece and decided to move to London. In a conversation with her about the purpose of journalism, she views her reporting on developments in Aleppo as another day of work, whereas to Habak, the developments are his life. The film sits in the tension between documenting a story and living through the reality of it, also showing how universal exposure can come at a cost. Centered in this viral portrait of self-sacrifice, having put down his camera and been captured by another’s, Habak becomes the target of Islamists and is forced into exile.
“Birds of War” also explores Boulos and Habak’s relationship outside of text messages and voice notes. We see them living together in London and wanting to start the next chapter of their lives as a newly married couple, though they are also at a crossroads with how to navigate their pasts. News from Syria and Lebanon weighs heavily. Habak had left for London without saying goodbye to his family; he questions how he can explain abandoning the revolution for married life. Habak and Boulos’s relationship dynamics continue to shift as they engage with what’s happening in their homelands. The documentary gives us a first-hand look at two people floating between worlds, wrestling with the feeling of displacement. Perfect more time could have been spent sitting in the momentum of this subject, as there’s a compelling thread of conversations that feel under-explored.
Ultimately, “Birds of War” excels at maintaining the love story at its core. While the documentary lacks distinctive visual storytelling and pacing, there’s an emotional connection to be gained from watching parts of Boulos and Habak’s relationship unfold. We may not get the full picture, but their future is shown in development. The documentary ends with Habak and Boulos once again separated by place. He questions how long they can keep this long-distance relationship going. “Until the wars finish,” she responds. Pulling from personal and vulnerable archives, “Birds of War” gives voice to the people and gives us a grounded perspective on international conflict.
