Orimond

A Note on the Documentary Broken Whispers
Directed by Amir Athar Sohaili and Amir Masoud Sohaili

Broken Whispers tells the story of those striving to find even the faintest, most fragile thread of life amidst the endless ruins of Syria. The documentary’s central idea is rooted in this very pursuit:
finding life under the shadow of death.

For the filmmakers, the thread connecting people to life is art, in all its forms. For Syrians—a people immersed in total devastation—this thread often takes the shape of music. The central character is an elderly painter who, despite losing his ability to create art after the war, spends his days teaching children to paint and repairing musical instruments salvaged from the rubble. Though he can no longer paint, he searches through homes reduced to ruins, seeking broken instruments—fragments of life amidst utter destruction, echoes of the past.

For the characters in this documentary, this search becomes a quest for roots and identity. These are people in the depths of loss, trying to rebuild even as they attempt to forget. A young man and woman, who pass their time sketching musical instruments on paper, remark halfway through the film: “This helps us forget the past.” It’s a simultaneous effort to let go of a shattered present while summoning memories of pre-destruction days—days of living, being, playing, and singing.

In its first half, Broken Whispers compellingly follows this thread, but midway through, the documentary veers onto a fragmented and inconsistent path. This shift feels like a mismatched patch sewn onto the narrative, causing the film to lose momentum. At times, the filmmakers appear trapped by the temptation to depict the hardships of a once-vibrant, joyous people, leading to a prolonged focus that detracts from the narrative. Slow pacing, repetitive and occasionally clichéd shots, further weigh down the film.
However, the documentary regains its footing in the final section, returning to its core theme. The combination of visuals and excerpts from Syrian folklore creates an authentic atmosphere that, at minimum, succeeds in portraying an overarching image of a shattered nation. These are people seeking life and identity, grasping at art as their anchor.

Though battered, they endure. While war may have robbed them of the ability and means to create, they persistently cling to the tenuous and fragile thread of their past and heritage. And, ultimately, they reclaim it—even amidst the void.

Rana Moghiseh