Movie reviews are uncommonly transferred to itu suspicion, but unfortunately, Iranian director Sepideh Farsi's new documentary, which is the case Put your soul in your hands. Just two days after the film was announced in the Cannes acid sidebar lineup, another announcement tells us that its protagonist, 25-year-old Palestinian photographer Fatma Hassona, was killed by the IDF along with several of her family.

Perhaps even more tragic, the cute and happy Hassona we can recognize through Farsi's collection of months of video calls into length conversations, which apparently sees her death as a possibility. In one of several frank discussions about FaceTime (or equivalent app), she told the director: “You have many different options here in Gaza,” detailing the explosions, shootings, illness and hunger that destroyed her population for more than a year and a half. Soon after, she explains how her adorable 8-year-old niece keeps telling her "I want to die" as if it's a happy ending.

Death shrouds Borsey's film, both screened and completed after completion, despite how bad Hassona uses past tense here - anything but pessimists. "I'm trying to find some life in this dead," she said in impressive English, often conveying with wide smiles and laughter.

The last line is also the way she describes her work as an amateur photographer, recording the massive destruction around her four aspects. Between the numerous video calls, Porsey inserted dozens of photos of Hassona, which were indeed filled with signs of life - children playing in the streets, men selling food, carrying water or food in all the chaos and ruins.

The most eye-catching Put your soul in your handswhose title is the way Hassona describes the outdoors when she can be killed at any time, is a way for the audience to experience the death and devastating repetitions faced by its central characters.

Farsey, who initially tried to enter Rafa but was turned away, began interviewing the young woman, and started in April 2024 with a series of ongoing video conversations that lasted until October, about a year after the Hamas-led massacre held by the Israelis. From one conversation to another, many of them were interrupted by internet connection failures, some of them being bombed by bombs due to explosions, we see Hosana and her family living daily, monthly, and ultimately annually, as the surrounding cities collapse, they try to survive.

Photographer So, in fact, her extreme situation - "That's normal," she said with a smile - we're almost used to it. Once, Porsey heard the sound outside the window of one of Hassona's apartments and asked where it came from. "Apache helicopter," the girl replied. "What do they do with them?" the director continued. Hassona looked at her as if she was talking to a child who could not understand this simple: "Kill us," she said with a smile again.

The form of Porsey's film may be simple, sometimes too repetitive, but that seems to be the point. There is no need to add anything to these discussions, like these heartbreaking honesty. The director can plug into the short segment of the news broadcast, again capturing it with his phone, bringing some background to the audience - a stark portrait of a gifted young woman passing through hell, but still able to look at the bright side of things.

However, this doesn't mean that Hassona always maintains a positive attitude, and sometimes she loses hope, especially after a friend or family member is killed. Although she never delved into the long history of the Israel-Palestine conflict, she once mentioned her dissatisfaction with Hamas leader Yahya al-Sinwar, who would soon be killed.

Put your soul in your hands Ultimately, the documentary's exposé is ultimately inferior to a piece of original unfiltered evidence, proving a tragedy that continues to unfold as the review is written. This film and Hassona’s eye-opening photos will one day be added to the history, detailing what happened in Gaza – and in a broad sense, it also has something to do with our civilization.

"If the war ends in Palestine, it will end anywhere else," Hassonner said in a statement. It sounds like a half hopeful, but feels destined to be at the status quo of the region, too. Later, in her last recorded conversation with the director, months before her own killing, Hassonner was optimistic about “when I could tell my kids what I live in and what I survived.”