‘Lamya’s Poem’: Delving into refugee crises through animation

Current and historical events often inspire art. There is something beautiful in looking at the world and choosing to make something because you are inspired by what you see, but sometimes the events happening around us are tragic. When those stories are told through art, they are most effective and instructive when there is a message at the heart, something that the audience is meant to walk away with. This is the case with the Unity Productions Foundation’s newest film, “Lamya’s Poem.”

The animated film alternates between two primary storylines. The titular Lamya (Millie Davis, “Wonder”) goes through the harrowing process of fleeing from Syria in 2016. The renowned 13th-century poet Jalal al-Din Rumi (Mena Massoud, “Aladdin”), referred to in the film as Jalal, and his father Baha Walad (Faran Tahir, “Iron Man”) face the Mongol invasion of their homeland. Lamya and Rumi’s stories are woven together, in a third storyline, when they meet in a dreamscape, facing monsters and creatures who represent their struggles.

In an email interview with The Michigan Daily, executive producer Jawaad Abdul Rahman elaborated on the creation of these stories.

“When we read articles about refugees from Syria living in camps and having book clubs, poetry clubs, even reading Rumi’s poetry, it really struck us. Here are people whose life has been turned upside down, still finding something of value from these gatherings and from Rumi’s poetry.”

These people were going through something so tragic and unthinkable, yet they found solace in something as simple as poetry. “Lamya’s Poem” elaborates on this idea, fictionalizing aspects but maintaining the truth behind real refugees’ stories and actions. Abdul Rahman spoke on the lasting legacy of Rumi’s poetry as well.

“We’ve also been struck by the fact that Rumi is so beloved … but people don’t know that he was actually a scholar of Islam. As we read more about Rumi, we learned that he was also a refugee as a child, forced out of his home when the Mongols invaded. That parallel is what we wanted to explore, two refugees across time.”

By placing Rumi and Lamya’s stories side by side, the filmmakers came upon a unique way of imparting a message upon their viewers. The dreamscape, Rahman explained, “represents (the characters’) imagination, their fears, how they are processing the loss they are both feeling as refugees.”

Watching monsters attack them, slithering around them and nearly omnipresent, we as viewers become aware of how their fear is affecting them. It is successful storytelling, if dark. In the climactic scene, we watch Lamya struggle for her life as a monster attacks her; this moment is the height of the film, and the suspense it creates is all-encompassing. The animation of the monsters may seem simplistic at times, because of the cartoonish style (complete with dark bodies, red eyes and spiked features), but when they begin acting, they become violent. When that happens, it is clear that they — and the fears they represent — are capable of causing lasting harm.

“Animation allows us to do creative things on screen without being cost-prohibitive,” Abdul Rahman wrote. “The imagination of children is such an important part of this story, so animation was the best medium.” 

The animation also allows the filmmakers to tell a distressing story to all audiences. Discussing tragic current events can be difficult, especially those some people view as controversial, but “Lamya’s Poem” does not shy away from telling this difficult, necessary story. The story’s elements are easy to follow — although the dreamscape world may be confusing to younger audiences — making the movie accessible. Breaking down these intense topics in a way that is manageable for wider audiences works to spread the movie’s message of accepting others and breaking down barriers in a successful way.

“The global refugee crisis has been on our minds a great deal at UPF and particularly that of Syrian refugees, since it’s been going on for years,” Abdul Rahman wrote. When asked about the importance of telling Muslim stories, he added, “sharing stories of Muslims and people of other faith traditions living and working together helps break down barriers and reduce harmful stereotypes. When people hear Islam or Muslims, so many assume violence or extremism. This simply doesn’t explain the lives of almost 2 billion people, their rich history, diversity and values.”

“Lamya’s Poem” does just that — the movie does not make the situation palatable, because it should not be made palatable, but it breaks down the truth of the Syrian refugee crisis for all audiences to understand and absorb. One scene features Lamya and the other refugees fleeing to the mainland only to face protestors objecting to their presence. Tragically, this scene is based in reality.

“Our hope is that people see themselves in the plight of refugees,” Abdul Rahman wrote. “This is a story about a father and son, Baha Walad and Rumi, and a mother and daughter, Lamya’s mother and Lamya. Their lives, dreams, aspirations are not so different than yours or mine.” 

“Lamya’s Poem” takes an important step in allowing non-Muslims to understand the depth of the Muslim community, which is integral to bringing these different communities closer together. It’s a didactic story, but it works. UPF makes no attempt to hide the meaning of its film, and it shouldn’t — we are meant to learn from it and grow as people because of its greater message.

Daily Arts Writer Sabriya Imami can be reached at simami@umich.edu.