Some Strings

by Ensemble

Short film
Color

Hors compétition 2024

Official synopsis

Filmmakers and artists from around the world have formed Some strings, an ensemble of unreleased filmic gestures that, along with others, tell the story of the events that occur in the world, so that witnesses increase. “Each memory that is freed is the first step for all memories to gather” (Edouard Glissant).

Some strings is rooted in that which stains the screens of history: in Palestine, where poet and teacher Refaat Alareer, like so many others beings, was targeted by Israeli strikes and killed along with seven other members of his family.

His last poem, “If I Must Die”, written between earth and sky five weeks before his death, calls for the making of a kite with some strings. Some strings is the legacy of such call, as did each of
his readers inherits it as well. The kite, now an object of resistance, and its strings, now in the hands of some one hundred artists, represent a diversity of perspectives on one of the darkest moments of the 21st century.

Some strings is released as widely as possible, all over the world, in theaters as part of a pre-show program, in festivals, also in a row, in a wide variety of spaces, because everyone take it own piece of string.

some-strings.org will keep on giving news about more initiatives throughout the world.

Biography and Filmography

if i must die,

you must live

to tell my story

to sell my things

to buy a piece of cloth

and some strings,

(make it white with a long tail)

so that a child, somewhere in gaza while looking heaven in the eye awaiting his dad who left in a blaze— and bid no one farewell

not even to his flesh

not even to himself—

sees the kite, my kite you made, flying up above and thinks for a moment an angel is there bringing back love

if i must die

let it bring hope

let it be a tale

by Ensemble

if i must die,

you must live

to tell my story

to sell my things

to buy a piece of cloth

and some strings,

(make it white with a long tail)

so that a child, somewhere in gaza while looking heaven in the eye awaiting his dad who left in a blaze— and bid no one farewell

not even to his flesh

not even to himself—

sees the kite, my kite you made, flying up above and thinks for a moment an angel is there bringing back love

if i must die

let it bring hope

let it be a tale