Farha is a 2021 powerful and heartbreaking film that brings the harrowing reality of the 1948 Nakba to life through the eyes of a young intelligent Palestinian girl who defied the social tradition of early marriage and wanted to pursue higher education.
Directed by Darin J. Sallam, this historical drama is more than just a coming-of-age story; it is an emotional exploration of survival, identity, and the devastating impact of war.
It is very heartbreaking to so how a peaceful society turned into nothing because of war when you either have to take arms to kill or to be killed.
Farha could have easily left the village and survived somewhere safe which did not choose because of her father.
Table of Contents
Plot
While other girls find excitement in the prospect of their friend’s marriage, 14-year-old Farha, a Palestinian girl, harbors aspirations far beyond the traditional expectations of her village.
Unlike her peers, she dreams of pursuing an education in the city, inspired by her close friend Farida. Farha passionately appeals to her father, Abu Farha, for the opportunity to study, though he remains initially resistant, adhering to societal norms that prioritize marriage for girls her age.
However, her uncle, Abu Walid, intercedes, urging her father to reconsider her request.
Amidst the unfolding events of 1948, the village chief Abu Farha is approached by local militias urging him to join the resistance against the advancing Nakba, the ethnic cleansing of Palestinian Arabs.
He declines, prioritizing his responsibility to safeguard the well-being of the village. It is during the wedding celebration of Farha’s friend that her father, relenting to her desires, informs her that he has granted her the opportunity to pursue her education.
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Yet, as she celebrates with Farida, Zionist militias descend upon the village, issuing commands through loudspeakers for immediate evacuation. In a moment of peril, Abu Farida rushes to evacuate both Farha and Farida.
Abu Farha, however, chooses to remain behind to defend his home and the village, entrusting Farha’s safety to Abu Farida. Despite this, Farha refuses to leave her father and insists on staying with him. He reluctantly brings her back home, arms himself, and in a desperate bid to protect her, locks her in a storeroom, vowing to return when it is safe.
For days, Farha is confined, her only connection to the outside world a small hole through which she hears the chaos of war and glimpses the violence engulfing her village.
Amid the chaos, a Palestinian family, Abu Mohammad, his wife Um Mohammad, and their two children, seek refuge in the courtyard.
Um Mohammad gives birth to a son during this time, but their brief respite is shattered when Haganah militias storm the house, demanding their surrender. Despite Abu Mohammad’s efforts, the family is betrayed by a Palestinian informant working for the militias, who identifies Abu Mohammad as an outsider from a different village. Though the informant had been promised that women and children would be spared, the entire family, except for the newborn, is brutally executed.
This betrayal reveals a deeper personal tragedy for Farha, as she realizes that the informant is her own uncle.
Though he sees her, he does not expose her hiding place to the militias. The commander, in a particularly chilling act of cruelty, orders a young soldier to kill the infant without wasting a bullet. Unable to bring himself to commit such a heinous act, the soldier covers the baby with a towel and leaves him to die alone on the courtyard floor.
Desperate and horrified, Farha makes a frantic effort to escape her confinement to save the infant. After ransacking the pantry, she discovers a hidden pistol and uses it to shoot the lock and free herself.
As she escapes the desolate village, she is left with the painful uncertainty of her father’s fate, whose disappearance during the chaos suggests he may have perished. Eventually, Farha, who is later revealed to be named Raddiyah, makes her way to Syria, where her story of survival and loss has been passed down through generations, embodying the collective trauma of the Nakba.
Analysis
The film revolves around 14-year-old Farha, who dreams of pursuing an education in the city, despite the societal pressures pushing her towards marriage who maintains the passion for knowing the unknown and reading books but gave up the privilege of higher study just to stay with her widowed father.
Set against the backdrop of her village, which is soon engulfed by the violence of the Nakba, Farha’s story takes a devastating turn as her home and life are shattered by the arrival of Zionist militias. Her father, in a desperate bid to protect her, locks her in a storeroom, and from there, the audience watches as she witnesses unspeakable horrors through a small hole in the wall.
What struck me the most about Farha is its intense sense of claustrophobia and helplessness. For much of the film, we are trapped with Farha in that storeroom, hearing but not fully seeing the violence that is occurring just beyond the walls.
Sallam’s decision to focus so much of the film in this confined space was a brilliant and poignant choice, highlighting the fear, isolation, and overwhelming sense of powerlessness that Farha—and by extension, many Palestinians—felt during that time.
Karam Taher, in her debut role as Farha, delivers a quietly powerful performance. Her expressive eyes, filled with fear, hope, and sorrow, anchor the entire film. While the narrative primarily unfolds in the small space of the storeroom where she had to remain without food and reliving faeces at the same place, Taher manages to communicate a wide range of emotions with minimal dialogue.
Her portrayal of Farha’s transformation from a hopeful girl dreaming of a future to a survivor stripped of her innocence is devastating and authentic.
One of the film’s most haunting moments comes when Farha witnesses the execution of a Palestinian family, including a newborn baby, by the militias. This scene, while disturbing, is a necessary reminder of the brutal reality faced by countless families during the Nakba. It is not sensationalized, but rather presented in a way that reflects the trauma and lasting scars of war.
Sallam’s sensitive handling of this scene, which has been a point of controversy, is a testament to her skill as a director—she shows just enough to convey the horror without veering into gratuitous violence.
The cinematography by Rachelle Aoun is also noteworthy. The contrast between the vibrant life of the village before the attack and the grim, shadowy interiors of the storeroom creates a stark visual metaphor for the destruction of innocence and home. The film’s visual language communicates much of what Farha cannot express verbally, further immersing the audience in her emotional and physical confinement.
Farha also shines in its broader context. Beyond being a personal story, it serves as a larger commentary on the erasure of Palestinian history. Sallam, whose own family was displaced during the Nakba, uses this film to reclaim a narrative that has often been marginalized. The film is not just about Farha’s personal tragedy, but about the collective trauma of an entire people.
The political controversy surrounding the film, especially its depiction of Israeli soldiers, adds another layer to its significance. Sallam’s refusal to shy away from the brutal reality of the Nakba—despite criticism and coordinated attempts to downvote the film—only underscores the importance of telling these stories.
Her comment that the film shows “a small event compared to what really happened” reflects the deep emotional weight behind the narrative.
Though some critics have noted that certain parts of the film feel didactic or that the performances of secondary characters are uneven, these minor flaws are overshadowed by the strength of the central story and Taher’s performance. Farha may not be a technically perfect film, but it is one that resonates deeply on an emotional level.
Acting Performances
Karam Taher, in her debut role as Farha, delivers a haunting and emotionally rich performance. Trapped in a single room for over half the film’s runtime, her face becomes the audience’s emotional barometer—ranging from hope to horror without relying on dialogue. Her expressive eyes and subtle body language sustain the tension, making her performance remarkably immersive.
Supporting actors, especially Ashraf Barhom (Abu Farha) and Ali Suliman (Abu Walid), provide brief but impactful performances. Their on-screen chemistry with Taher is believable and heartfelt, especially in scenes showing a father’s conflict between love and protection.
The emotionally jarring moment involving Abu Mohammad’s family being executed while Farha watches from hiding is one of the most gut-wrenching in modern Arab cinema.
Standout Moment: Taher’s desperate clawing at the door while hearing a baby left to die outside—a silent scream of helplessness and horror.
Script and Dialogue
Written by Darin J. Sallam, the script is deliberately minimalistic, reflecting the claustrophobia of Farha’s confinement. The silence becomes a narrative tool. When dialogue does occur—such as the early debates over Farha’s future—it reveals generational tension and patriarchal limitations.
While some critics have called parts of the screenplay “didactic” or “uneven,” the film’s thematic clarity and restrained tone help it maintain narrative focus. The pacing may seem slow, but it mirrors the real-time unfolding of trauma, creating a disturbing intimacy.
Strength: Authentic portrayal of fear, isolation, and suppressed dreams through subtle writing.
Weakness: Some secondary characters feel underdeveloped due to the limited scope and setting.
Themes and Messages
Farha is a meditation on loss, coming-of-age, and the brutal legacy of the Nakba (1948 Palestinian displacement). The film dares to center the narrative through the eyes of a child, avoiding political didacticism while emphasizing personal trauma.
It comments on:
- Women’s autonomy vs patriarchal control
- The ethics of silence during violence
- Survival vs identity, as Farha transforms from a girl with dreams to a witness of massacre
This narrative aligns with modern struggles of displaced communities and victims of war, resonating with global audiences confronting colonization, exile, and trauma.
Comparison with Similar Works
Like The Diary of Anne Frank, Farha confines its narrative to a hidden space. But unlike Western Holocaust stories, it brings to light a largely silenced Arab trauma. Where Waltz with Bashir visualizes war’s memory, Farha experiences it in real-time—personal, suffocating, and inescapable.
Audience Appeal / Reception
Target Audience:
- Viewers interested in historical truth, Palestinian narratives, and female-led stories
- Cinephiles who appreciate minimalist, emotionally intense storytelling
- Not ideal for action-seeking casual viewers
Reception:
Despite political backlash, Farha holds a 100% rating on Rotten Tomatoes (13 critics) and widespread praise from CNN, The New York Times, and The Hindu for its honesty, minimalism, and emotional force.
Personal Insight / Lesson Today
Farha isn’t just about the past—it is a powerful reminder that trauma passed down must be acknowledged, not erased. It urges us to confront how wars are told and whose pain is recognized. In a world still dealing with mass displacement and the weaponization of memory, Farha’s silence is a scream we can no longer ignore.
Quotations
“Compared to what happened during the massacres, this was a small event… Denying the Nakba is like denying who I am.” — Darin J. Sallam
“A brutal kind of coming-of-age story… speaks volumes.” — The New York Times
✅ Pros and Cons
Pros:
- Haunting performance by Karam Taher
- Visually minimalist but emotionally powerful
- Bold storytelling of silenced history
- Authentic sound design evokes raw emotion
- Groundbreaking representation of Palestinian trauma
Cons:
- Slow pacing may challenge some viewers
- Limited dialogue can feel sparse or abrupt
- Some secondary performances underwhelming
Recommendation: A must-watch for lovers of historical drama, human rights cinema, and political storytelling.
⭐ Rating: 4.5/5 stars
Conclusion
In conclusion, Farha is a deeply affecting film that should be seen not only for its historical significance but for its intimate portrayal of loss and survival. It is a testament to the power of cinema to tell stories that matter, to give voice to the silenced, and to remind us of the human cost of war.
Farha (2021) is not an easy film, but it is a necessary one. It’s a landmark in Palestinian cinema, a cinematic act of remembrance, and a claustrophobic yet expansive portrait of girlhood lost to war. Director Darin J. Sallam’s debut proves the power of art in reclaiming suppressed narratives.
The film’s ending, which sees Farha escaping the ruins of her village but never knowing the fate of her father, leaves a lasting impression—one of unresolved grief, but also of resilience.
Farha’s story is one that will stay with you long after the credits roll.
