2017 (2018?) documentary
Rating: 16/20
Plot: A filmmaker gains the trust of a jihadist and spends time with him and his sons.
Director Talal Derki was born in Syria but moved away and now lives in Germany. He came back to Syria, posing as a war photographer, and befriended this jihadist and his family. Well, only the sons are shown--the wives are barely mentioned and never seen. He's a fanatic, even naming his oldest son after Bin Laden and praising his god for allowing one of his sons to be born on September 11th. Sure, he does have that familiar whistling ringtone, something that really threw me for a loop for some reason, but this guy's pretty serious about wanting to play a part in a World War III that will bring about end times. He's like a Syrian Mike Pence. He sings along with the music played on the contemporary Islam music station, he snipes, he hunts for mines to remove, and he encourages his sons to grow up to be terrorists because mamas might know not to let their babies grow up to be jihadists, but mamas don't really have much say in this society.
This is disturbing, really a tough watch, and I was tense nearly from start to finish. I figured the filmmaker survived the experience of filming this family, but there really are so many ways he could have died during this project. I'm not sure how many sons this guy has, but the film focuses on a couple of them. Obama is a goofy-looking dangerous kid who throws rocks at kids at the school he's stopped going to because education isn't something that's important to a child. He also picks fights with people and, in one scene, catches a bird that he winds up killing. The other kid is almost a foil, and I really don't want to give too much more away because it would probably diminish the impact of this thing.
Very strangely, a scene where characters are crying in this affected me.
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