Octopus (2021)

Traffic rushes by as if nothing has happened. But beside the road, the rubble is smoldering, and firefighting helicopters are circling overhead. Ten minutes in, this is the first specific image we see of the devastating explosion that took place on 4 August 2020 at the Port of Beirut. Until this point, its presence in the film has been indirect—a man smoking beside a broken window, the distant sounds of ships’ horns and sirens.
Octopus is a thoughtful testimony to the aftermath of the explosion. First there is the stillness. Tightly framed shots show residents staring silently in houses with shattered windows. Shots of empty streets, with crumbling walls and cars dented by the shockwave, form an elegy accompanied by an ambient score.
In the second half, stillness cautiously makes way for a new beginning. Playing children fill the streets, and there are sounds of reconstruction; the city starts to regenerate and human resilience emerges.