I first discovered Syrian cinema for myself back in the early 1980s. Back then, Syrian films and I were both newcomers to international film festivals such as Rotterdam and Cannes. Samir Zikra's Hadithat al-Nosf Metr (The Half-Meter Incident, 1981) impressed me with its sly humor and candor about the June 1967 War; but what really caught my attention-and many other people's too-was Mohammad Malas's Ahlam al-Madina (Dreams of the City, 1983). Exquisitely made and directed, the film offered one of the most skillful weavings of personal story and historical consciousness that I had ever seen. Over the next few years Syria would reappear at festivals with works such as Abdellatif Abdul-Hamid's Layali Ibn Awah (Nights of the Jackals, 1989) and Oussama Mohammad's Stars in Broad Daylight, but then in 1992 came Malas's second film, Al-Leyl (The Night, 1992) Simply a masterpiece, The Night seemed the perfect next step beyond Dreams of the City; its innovative blending of personal and historical narratives was even more provocative, and his style was further enhanced by various surrealist touches. Clearly, something was going on in the Syrian cinema.

Happily, in 1995 I had the opportunity to visit Syria in the course of watching films for what became the Film Society's “Centennial of Arab Cinema” (co-curated with Alia Arasoughley and August Light Films) in November, 1996. Beyond having the chance to see again friends such as Mohammad Malas, Omar Amiralay and Oussama Mohammad (both close collaborators with Malas on The Night, as well as fine filmmakers in their own right), I also got to see and review a large portion of Syrian production from the mid 1980s to the mid 1990s, and to discover the impressive breadth that characterized that cinema.

What is immediately striking about Syrian films is simply how well made they are. Many of the filmmakers-Malas, Oussama Mohammad, Rémond Boutros, Riyad Chayya, among others-studied filmmaking at VGIK, the great Soviet film school in Moscow. All are fine exemplars of the VGIK style, an approach that opts for carefully composed, almost iconographic shots-the opposite perhaps of the more fluid, hand-held style adopted widely after the explosion of the French New Wave. For their narratives, Syrian filmmakers often rely on allegory, the microcosm of a single family serving as stand-in for the nation. The films also don't shy away from making big statements. Historical events are never far off screen, and they often permeate even the most intimate personal relations. With an annual production never exceeding more than four or five feature films, many filmmakers are forced to wait years between projects (fifteen years passed between Oussama Mohammad's first and second features); consequently, filmmakers are intensely aware that each film, each shot, really has to count.

The films selected for this Syrian film series cover a wide range of subjects. Some offer highly critical views of their own government and society; other films take positions on subjects such as the Palestinian issue that are rather controversial. Working under what can only be described as very difficult conditions-ranging from the watchful eyes of the censors to the lack of a real industrial infrastructure for film production-Syrian filmmakers have nevertheless managed to create a powerful and provocative cinema, films brimming with both personal expression as well as perceptive social analysis that are often startling in their courage and commitment.

- By Richard Peña