In Anas Zawahri’s documentary, the city of Homs is portrayed as lifeless, stripped of its spirit by the devastation of civil war and armed conflict. The city feels desolate, and those who have stayed or returned move through it as if disconnected, wandering through its emptiness. The close, static shots of its streets and daily life convey a heavy sense of void, reminiscent of the eerie calm following a catastrophe. The memories of the people he interviews, whose faces are often obscured or out of focus, mirror the city’s desolation. A young woman mourns for Homs, regretting what it has become, yet her love for the city remains, coupled with a desire to escape, as fear has taken deep root within her.The people of Homs are no longer who they were before the civil war; the laughter they were once known for has vanished, just as the recognizable features of their city have crumbled into ruins. Those who returned after struggling to survive outside of Homs find themselves in a place that now feels foreign, and they too are strangers in it, unable to find the loved ones they came back for.Through his documentation of the residents who remain and by giving them the freedom to express their thoughts and share their stories, Zawahri’s film aligns with other notable works that explore the aftermath of trauma. He approaches the city through the lens of those deeply affected by it, capturing their emotional wounds—wounds they may have been unaware of while caught up in the chaos surrounding them. These psychological scars, with no immediate remedy in sight, and the irreplaceable losses cast a pervasive sadness over the film’s portrayal of both the people and the city. This sorrow seeps into the viewer, raising questions about the source of their suffering and whether time will ever heal the losses they’ve endured. The documentary offers no answers, leaving these questions unresolved, waiting for the day when the people of Homs might tell us what became of them after the events Zawahri so poignantly captures.Kais Kasim