Farah Kassem has returned to Tripoli. Time passes by in the apartment she shares with her father. They sit close together on heavy, upholstered sofas, yet her father remains absorbed in his own world – a world shaped by pen and paper, a world of words, poetry, passion for language and precision. But Farah isn’t content to merely observe him through her camera; she seeks connection. She sets the stage by announcing that she, too, writes poetry. The patriarch of the family scoffs at the thought, insisting she doesn’t even know what a real poem is. But Farah isn’t seeking approval, she is carving out her own space. As her father’s all-male poetry circle meets week after week, she asserts her presence with quiet confidence and quick-witted humour.
From Lebanon comes a tender and nuanced debut that charts a journey of reconciliation, painting a warm and perceptive portrait of a father and daughter, while also opening a dialogue between generations. As the months fly by, a pigeon pays a visit, verses are composed, refined and abandoned – and while a revolution unfolds outside, within the home, the fight for equality within the family is negotiated with no less urgency. Farah Kassem moves beyond the role of daughter – asserting herself as an independent woman and artist.