Victor Bresse

On August 4th, 2020, the catastrophic explosion at the port of Beirut leaves a large part of the Lebanese capital in ruins. In the midst of the chaos, a troubled film crew face an overwhelming decision: to continue the production of their movie or abandon it? As they face the aftermath of the catastrophe, they are torn between their firm belief in the transformative power of cinema and a deep sense of cynicism about its ability to effect change in a nation plagued by economic turmoil and societal collapse. Dancing on the Edge of a Volcano chronicles their struggles and highlights the crew's resilience as they strive to find meaning and purpose in their work amidst the devastation.

It is winter in Damascus. Sana, with her eight-year-old son, is living alone while her husband works in Saudi Arabia. When Sana runs out of gas to cook or warm the house, she takes a day off to find a gas cylinder. From there begins a trip into the surroundings of Damas, where Sana finds herself brutally confronted with the effects of war.

I left Lebanon in 2006. For the past 10 years I lived in 7 countries, 10 cities, and 21 homes. I slept in 21 beds, cooked in 21 kitchens, cleaned 21 bathrooms, stared at 21 windows, wrote on 21 desks, and locked 21 doors behind me. I packed all of my life into two suitcases and a backpack. The rest stayed behind. Somebody somewhere uses my bed, somebody somewhere has my shoes. I was there. But now I am here.

Rana and Guy, a young married couple live in today's city of Beirut. Rana quits her job and falls slowly into a state of lingering. Guy decides they need to go on a road-trip that leads them to the mountains. The road becomes one of remembrance and nostalgia. A road that might bring them closer to themselves and to each other.