Final Rating: 4/5
Humans have been around for millennia. Many of the most unfortunate events in human history involve the erasure of culture. Sometimes, it’s incidental like Vesuvius wiping out Pompeii and Herculaneum 2,000 years ago. Other times, it’s intentional and the result of human actions like manifest destiny and Native Americans. Zaradasht Ahmed’s The Lions By the River Tigris focuses on the aftermath of Mosul’s destruction after being taken over by ISIS in 2014 and then liberated three years later by Iraqi Armed Forces with support from the United States and other international bodies.
Immediately, the subject of this documentary sharpens focus on two men striving to reclaim the culture that was decimated during the Iraq War. Fakri Al Jawal runs a museum where he displays items and artifacts he finds while wandering around the ruins of the Old City, one of the oldest neighborhoods in Mosul that lies on the western bank of the Tigris River. Bashar Salih picks through the remains of his home that has been reduced to mostly rubble from the bombings, hoping to one day rebuild it.
The destruction of Mosul’s Old City is tragic and the list of monuments, artworks, and landmarks that no longer exist is lengthy. However, Ahmed chooses to follow Fakri and Bashar, making the topic of his film far more personal and intimate–a choice that succeeds in allowing the viewer to connect more easily with a culture that is not their own. Watching the two of them climb over debris a handful of years later, referencing areas they remember or excitedly uncovering mementos of the past, it’s easy to sympathize with their situation. How many people haven’t looked around at their material possessions and wondered what they’d do without them? Ahmed’s observational camera shows the hearth-wrenching reality of such a situation.
The only thing left standing from Bashar’s home is a doorway with an engraving on the top of two lions, the reference made in the film’s title. It really hammers home how big of a void the bombings have left in Bashar’s life. He talks about how much his father loved their home and shows pictures of what the house used to look like: the mantle where a photograph used to rest and a column that he remembers polishing daily. Then the camera cuts to those places in the present and nothing looks the same. From the structure to the very color of the stone, everything has changed.
Fakri also stumbles upon what used to be Bashar’s home. He is instantly captivated by the lion engraving and wants it. He asks Bashar if he can buy it, but Bashar tells him it’s not for sale. Bashar wants to rebuild his home and resurrect the life he remembers, exactly as it was before. But Fakri is not so easily dissuaded.
This is where The Lions on the River Tigris takes a bit of a turn. Ahmed never lets the destruction and pain of the bombings fully escape the scope of the film, but the gentle butting of heads between Fakri and Bashar builds alongside it. Fakri tells others about the lions and how much he wants them. He brings his wife out to show the lions to her. He comments over and over again about how much has been lost to ruin dumps, not wanting the same fate to befall the engraving. There’s a sense that no one other than Bashar really understands Fakri’s passion for these lions.
Of course, Bashar, hoping to rebuild the house as it was, wants to keep them for himself. He digs through the rubble searching for “a piece of his life” and finds very little. He encounters a forager and chases him off by throwing rocks at him. Even in the wake of destruction, a small conflict arises between two men who want to see their city and home preserved and rebuilt, respectively.
The energy in the conflict between Bashar and Fakri invigorates the film and carries it to its conclusion. The question of whether rebuilding or preserving the city is more valuable is an interesting one. Zaradasht Ahmed appears to be on the side of rebuilding, but he gives Fakri’s preservation approach its time in the spotlight, as well.
Around 54,000 homes were destroyed and approximately 80% of the Old City is in ruins. However, the people of Mosul are not content to let their history be forgotten. They want to rebuild; they want to preserve. Ahmed’s film achieves the latter for this moment in time while doubling as a story about human conflict.
Thank you to Kouzi Productions for the screener.
