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Fann W Fenjen: Omar Gabriel

Filmmaker

Omar Gabriel and Cyril Kokozaki on Navigating Community, Memory, and Healing After War

By Cyril Kokozaki

Photos by Omar Gabriel

Those familiar with Omar Gabriel‘s work understand his distinctively intimate, “slice of life” filter: his camera-work reflects the moments where we feel profoundly human and connected. From the award-winning A Letter to Myself, which offers a personal exploration of queer icons in Lebanon, including the Palestinian resistance poster-woman Soha Bechara’s letter to herself and her trans son, to his recent ARTE-commissioned documentary– yes, the premiere cultural TV channel in Europe– his work is remarkable, tender, and current. After eight long, gruelling, collapse-tainted years in production, Omar is aiming to release his first feature film in 2025, so don’t miss the preview from this rising talent on ARTE’s Tracks East: Lebanon After the War – Is Healing Possible? The documentary interviews three of Omar’s artist friends against a backdrop of the destruction and fragile ceasefire that continues to shape their inherited reality, and where the cultural resistance that the Lebanese are known for lives on.  

 

We asked actor Cyril Kokozaki to flex his skills and pose Omar some questions.

OMAR GABRIEL: Hello…yahhh Cyril, hello!

 

CYRIL KOKOZAKI: Bonsoir! مرحبا !

 

OMAR: They told me it was a surprise, I didn’t think it would be you!

 

CYRIL: Yeah, surprise! Hahaha… Okay, first of all I really want to give you compliments on your work. I really enjoyed watching it. I watched the ARTE preview, I think three or four times. You really showcase the alternative scene in Beirut, like you’re giving the rest of us an opportunity for our voices to get out there, for more expression, and you’re doing it in a very nice way. So yeah, I just wanted to share that. Would you consider هيدا الشي like Raymonda says about going back to her busy life, إنو this is how she heals. So did this help you with your healing? 

OMAR: I suppose you can’t have people speak so honestly and not go through it with them, especially when you share the same experience. So أكيد there is some kind of healing. But can I say that I’m healed? Uhh, I’m not sure. 

 

Aside from the project, I think healing is an ongoing life quest. What we’ve lived through—and are still living through— is an immense form of violence. For people who are sensitive or humanitarian in nature, it’s not something that passes easily. And even when it’s over, we know it’s not completely over.

 

Since I’m introspective and honest with myself, I can’t say I was healed when the project ended. Like Ray says, it’s just part of my healing journey. But that doesn’t mean that the journey is over. I think it’s an ongoing quest, a turbulent one, and it includes many forms of wars—not just the obvious reasons. I’m also against just talking about the actuality and the “now”, because everything is a pile up of so many things that are corrupt and unfair and inhumane. And yet we have to continue.

Ruwan Teodros, captured by Omar Gabriel

CYRIL: I know, challenges compiling over the span of just a few years. You do a lot of work in queer cinema, I work in queer cinema as well,  I know the challenges that we’re already facing, and then the external factors come in. Take Joey’s story for example, you really see how the ripple of something that’s happening kilometers away can affect someone on such an intimate level. He had to hide a part of his identity for 36 days, he calls the invasion pinkwashing, and how he went along with it. What was the greatest challenge you faced while filming this?

 

OMAR: I think the most challenging part was speaking about a topic this complex—one that’s being showcased to Western audiences—while still being honest for us. لأنو this is not a self-funded project that I felt like doing. This is a documentary for ARTE, so I felt a responsibility knowing that this narrative is being translated for the West. 

What has happened politically and how the West has shaped our narratives— and the hypocrisy that it has played in the war, and in how the media covered it— I felt that it was finally my turn to show a narrative that represents us. Even if it’s mostly reaching their audience, at the very least, I want them to see a narrative that they don’t know about. 

That was the biggest challenge. On one hand, I have a big responsibility to speak about something that’s so fresh and so complex, something that we haven’t digested yet, and try to tell it in a way that’s as multi-layered and authentic as I can be in the representation. This documentary is both a window to Lebanon, and to me as an activist and an authentic filmmaker. I want them to see something that is real, something that reflects us more than the propaganda or shallow, informational coverage that they are receiving.

 

CYRIL: You showed up to the challenge really well, especially in how you captured the streets, the daily life of the Lebanese. One example that stood out was the scene with the three generations of women; Ruwan, her mother, and grandmother. I’m referring to that intimate scene where each of them speaks about the war of their generation. This is our reality, this is what we inherit as Lebanese people. And although it’s sad, the way you portrayed it was so beautiful and multi-layered. A question for the filmmakers: what lenses were you using?

 

OMAR: Honestly you have to ask the DOP hahaha—the lenses are an additional technical thing. For me, what is most important is in the frame itself, because this is what conveys the emotions and the stories. As for the lenses, they of course have an important additional value because they film things in a way that resembles the vision that I want. I focused on using lenses that zoom in on the people— that are close to people. I didn’t use many wide angles unless I was filming the destruction of outdoor spaces. I focused as much as I could on faces, on emotions, on intimate spaces, and all of that happened through the use of portrait lenses mostly. 

Ruwan Teodros, captured by Omar Gabriel

CYRIL: I definitely noticed you used a lot of extreme close-ups, like in the scene where Joey is applying makeup while he’s going into his drag character. It felt like we got so close to each character. Beyond the lens, what really stood out was your presence and the questions you asked that allowed each person to open up, to share, and to be this comfortable. There’s a very natural feel to everything, it’s very natural how you show the reality of things. I think it’s a huge challenge: to show reality so honestly, especially when there’s a person in the frame and it’s your role, as the filmmaker, to lead them there with your questions.  

 

OMAR: For me, this is not a challenge. Thank you, I appreciate it that you see it that way, but for me, the real challenge is when I’m disconnected from reality or from authenticity. So when I have the opportunity to be close to people– to be close to the truth and their emotions, on the contrary I feel like it’s an opportunity, a lucky opportunity someone gives to me.  

 

With a camera you have a huge privilege: to get close, to access the school of people, and their personal, intimate stories. Stories that, in our daily life, ça passe inaperçu يعني it goes by unnoticed, and the world continues. For Joey, he might go to his job and nobody would ask him a question about everything that he has lived. 

 

So for me, the camera becomes a small window, a moment to say: no, no, no, no, no, no. Things should not continue like that without opening these little windows. Because our personal stories matter. And by nature, as Omar the human, not just the filmmaker, I think this is part of my vision. I’ve lived through so much that made me feel like, no, life cannot continue like that normally. I just need to stop and open this window and see what’s inside. I need it. It’s a need.

Joey, captured by Omar Gabriel

CYRIL: I’ve read a few articles about you, and it feels like this message runs through all your projects. As if you like to return the heartbeat to people. 

 

OMAR: Hmm, what do you mean by heartbeat?

 

CYRIL: As if to bring them back to life. You’re not satisfied with just saying hamdellah (thanks be to God), right? 

 

OMAR: Hamdellah by itself doesn’t bother me, because it carries a kind of gratitude for the good things that are still present. 

 

But when hamdellah becomes a tool for denial— used to soothe all the pain and problems, just because we don’t want to speak or open the wounds and share them—then we end up with a society that is sick on the inside, but on the outside keeps saying hamdellah

 

The problems get worse. The wounds aren’t healing. People just continue, and continue, and continue, and I feel like my existence as an artist is to say: Ahh, stop. I’m not satisfied. Maybe somewhere that’s wrong, because maybe it would be better for me to say hamdellah and continue like everybody else. But that’s not me. 

Joey, captured by Omar Gabriel

CYRIL: As someone who has documented queer narratives, don’t you feel like the spaces where queer cinema could be projected are very limited in Beirut, or they need to be sort of protected, because of the political situation?

 

OMAR: There are no safe spaces in Beirut. There are safe people, and the space becomes safe when people gather to watch— unless there’s a violent intrusion. As long as we have no queer rights, as long as queer films are not legal, as long as spaces that are considered safe have no protection, it’s never safe. It becomes safe when these people gather together. 

Omar Gabriel

Omar Gabriel has filmed, produced, directed, edited and photographed short films, commercials, motion pictures, music videos and photographed countless celebrities for over 12 years. His films have showcased at Xposed Film Festival in Berlin, and Institut du Monde Arabe in Paris, while his photography has been shown at the Bienal’23 Fotografia do Porto and La Casà Àrabe in Madrid. 

 

Cyril Kokozaki is an actor and artist known for his roles in the thought-provoking films Drowning (2024), Embodied Chaos (2023), Corps Absents (2022), Dhow Under the Sun (2015) and others, earning a reputation for deep emotional

Hala (Halo) Srouji

Hala (Halo) Srouji is a writer and production manager with a background in editing, journalism, and sustainability. With over two decades of experience in communications and media across the Middle East and the U.S., she curates cross-disciplinary editorial projects that spotlight cultural dialogue, creative collaboration, and environmental awareness. Hala is currently managing and facilitating part of Fann w Fenjen’s interviews with and between artists, bringing a unique and new perspective to artist visibility in media

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