Sean Dooley visits Shadows of Beirut.
At its heart, Shadows of Beirut is about family trauma and how the wounds of the past shape what comes after. Tina Gharavi's latest feature sends protagonist Lana (Tala Calil) back to the city – and the father – she left behind twenty-five years ago. This drama asks what happens when the damage inflicted by a parent is carried into the next generation, shaping Lana’s present relationship with her fiancé Ben (Michael E. Rodgers) and the lives of the family her father left behind in Beirut.
Ben is there from the start, and Gharavi lets the tension between him and Lana build quietly: Lana has told him she's come to Beirut for a dying uncle, not the father she's spent years pretending doesn't exist, and that small deception festers under the surface of their relationship until it finally erupts into a full-blown fight. It's a smart way of showing how her avoidance of the past bleeds into her present relationship before we even get to the bigger reveals. Then there's the curious thread of Lana understanding the language but refusing to speak it, an intriguing detail that sits neatly alongside that avoidance.
As for the backdrop, this is handled with a light touch. Beirut is still living with the legacy of the devastating Port explosion, while a pandemic that hasn't quite gone away means masks are still part of everyday life. These never swamp the personal narrative, yet they're present enough to give it weight. The city Lana returns to is one that has had to carry its own past forward, and the film lets that sit quietly alongside her own story without ever spelling out the parallel.It's a promising set-up, carried by an interesting central tension.
Tala Calil, who also wrote the script, has described the film as deeply personal, saying in an interview that she was writing ‘a story that I wasn't prepared to confront in real life’. The narrative looks at the father's hidden secret, and the way that inheritance of repression echoes down into the next generation's own relationship. Lana goes out drinking with Rami and Sirine, not yet knowing the true nature of her relationship to Sirine. Two daughters, two very different upbringings, a father's choices rippling through both. There's also a nice thematic beat in how Sirine excuses the narrow-mindedness of the society the men around her grew up in, cutting slack that the film seems to want us to notice, if not necessarily agree with.
Rami is one of the film's best swings. He's set up as comic relief early on, a character designed to lighten the load, before a scene with his wife turns him into something far darker, another quiet study in how old damage resurfaces. It's a genuinely effective turn, and probably the strongest piece of writing in the film. The second wife is a striking presence, too, and her open hostility towards Lana gives the family's reunion a sharp edge. It's a reminder that Lana's return doesn't happen in a vacuum, that it lands on people who have their own stake in her father's past, and it keeps the reunion from ever settling into something comfortable.
Finally Ben arrives in Beirut, and the resolution between the couple is where the film's themes about homeland and intimacy blend together well. It's here that Lana sees her father. The film handles this moment with restraint, bringing a quiet close to a complicated story.
Shadows of Beirut is at its best when it trusts the family drama and performances. We spend time sitting with the damage rather than tying it up neatly. This is a thoughtful, patient film about what gets passed down from one generation to the next, and one well worth seeking out.
Shadows of Beirut will be in cinemas in Ireland & the UK from 25th September 2026.
