Before beginning this conversation, Alissar was drawn not only to Fatma’s work, but to the quiet affinities they share as two Lebanese women whose creative lives are shaped by a deep love for home. She sensed that Fatma’s relationship to craft—her discipline, her way of seeing, her insistence on authenticity—was intertwined with that same love. It was this curiosity, more than familiarity, that led Alissar to sit with her: a desire to understand what compels Fatma behind the lens, and how her path as a filmmaker has taken form.
ALISSAR: When did you first know you wanted to become a filmmaker? Was there a moment or experience that sparked that realization?
FATMA
I didn’t know why or when I wanted to be a filmmaker. I was just a young photographer. I had a camera and used to shoot a lot, especially in Tripoli, my hometown.
When I was with the Fayha National Choir of Lebanon, we would go for shootings like Arabs Got Talent and other TV shows. I felt I wanted to be part of this field, but mainly as a storyteller, not just as part of a TV crew. It was a calling rather than a decision to be a filmmaker.
A: Did you study filmmaking formally at university or learn through experience? What were some of the other jobs or creative roles you held before directing? How did those shape your artistic eye or work ethic?
F: I studied Communication Arts at the Lebanese American University (LAU) and, while I was studying, I learnt to shoot and edit. I was an assistant at the studio at LAU. This helped shape my artistic vision because I got to experience how to do things in practice, not just in theory.
Later, I earned my master’s degree in Cinematography from the Lebanese University. Then, I started shooting films as a cinematographer. Of course, by dealing with many directors and stories, I learnt how to communicate my artistic vision. I also learnt what and what not to do.
A: Where are you based now, and how does your environment — whether Lebanon or elsewhere — influence your choice of stories, subjects, or visual aesthetics?
F: I was raised in Tripoli, my hometown, which shaped me as a person and as a human being. Then, I moved to Beirut, a life-changing experience. To me, being based in Lebanon is the best thing ever. I never wanted to leave. Being in Lebanon helped me connect more with the stories here, and I feel inspired by the country. I have my community, my crew, and people who are supportive in my journey.
To me, being based in Lebanon is the best thing ever. I never wanted to leave. Being in Lebanon helped me connect more with the stories here, and I feel inspired by the country. I have my community, my crew, and people who are supportive in my journey.
A: How long have you been directing and producing films? What was your first project like, and what did it teach you about the realities of the industry?
F: I directed my first film in 2015 as my senior project at university. At the time, I knew very little about the industry, and I relied almost entirely on instinct, passion, and the excitement of discovering what cinema could be. I love my first film. It was made with pure love and dedication—I even thought it might be the only film I ever made. But it opened the door to everything that came after.
With each new project, I learned to move forward, gaining experience that helped me improve the next film and communicate my ideas more clearly. Practice teaches you the craft—its details, its challenges, and the realities of the field. I learned how to articulate my vision, refine what I wanted to say, and grow from one project to the next. Over the years, this accumulation of experience has shaped and matured my voice as a filmmaker, allowing me to approach my work with greater clarity, confidence, and purpose.
A: What were the biggest obstacles you faced when entering the field as a woman? Is the film industry in Lebanon still mostly male-dominated, and how have you navigated that landscape?
F: In my opinion, art goes beyond men and women, and that’s the most beautiful thing about it. When I started in cinematography, I learned how to hold the camera, its weight, and how to manage a crew made up of men, especially the light and camera crew.
But being a woman filmmaker has been both a blessing and a challenge. Education made a big difference. Before completing my master’s degree in Cinematography, I didn’t know how to break into the industry. However, earning my master’s degree gave me the push I needed to be seen as a credible person to shoot films. When I started my first, second, and third film projects, people saw me as an artist, not just a woman.
I wish I had more support before doing my master’s degree, but again, it is all about the journey, and I am grateful for each and every moment. Nowadays, when I get on set, it is beautiful. As a cinematographer, I get support, help, and kindness from my crew, who are mostly men, by the way.
Education made a big difference. Before completing my master’s degree in Cinematography, I didn’t know how to break into the industry.
A: Do you feel that being a woman shapes the way you tell stories — the themes you choose, the people you focus on, or the way you frame emotion and power on screen?
F: I don’t think that being a woman directly shapes the way I tell stories and the themes I choose; however, I believe that women have a different sensitivity to life and a distinct perspective. I go by how I feel about stories and characters, and those instincts guide me toward the stories I want to tell. It is naturally embedded in my identity as a woman.
A: What inspires you to film a specific scene or life story? Do you start from a feeling, an image, or a question you want to explore?
F: Being a cinematographer, I observe a lot–a frame, a character in a frame, a setup, an image, a feeling. This is what sparks the idea. It grows in my mind and feelings. It invades my whole being. I won’t rest until I tell the story and express the feeling.
A: Do you collaborate closely with a team of scriptwriters, or do you usually fall in love with an existing text or idea before deciding to direct it? How important is the script in shaping your vision — and how often does budget or funding determine which project moves forward?
F: I don’t consider myself a writer. I always have collaborators on scripts. The idea or inspiration is born from something I see or feel that triggers the story. I start by translating that moment into notes—an image, a feeling, or a situation—and then begin shaping it into the seed of a script.
I then take what I wrote and collaborate with scriptwriters and mentors to unpack and capture all the layers and possibilities around this initial feeling or inspiration. The image we come up with might be the first setup, but there is always a larger story to discover. That story requires the expertise of skilled scriptwriters. Together, we share ideas, revise drafts, exchange notes, and eventually build a fully developed, professional script that can stand on an international level.
The script is very important in filmmaking, even with good actors. When the script is great, it helps engage the audience and pulls at their emotions. But even the best script can be affected by funding and budget constraints, which can influence its vision. We learned these constraints the hard way, but then there’s a joy in discovering how to adapt and make films even in the most challenging conditions. Those limitations taught us resilience and creativity. We learned it the hard way. We learned how to make films under the most difficult conditions.
A: What’s the smallest, most intimate project you’ve worked on, and what made it special? And what’s the biggest or most ambitious film you’ve directed — what were the best moments in each?
F: During COVID-19, I was at home and decided to create a small project for my city, Tripoli, to cheer people up in those dark times. I went out and shot footage of people I know, as well as famous and well-known people in Tripoli. I photographed them wearing masks but still smiling. The idea was to show that we could continue to smile and spread positivity even in the face of hardship.
This video is very dear to my heart because it was made on a zero-budget — just me, my friends, a camera, and the whole city collaborating. The video went viral in Lebanon and abroad. People told me it made them feel hopeful and brought a smile to their hearts when they watched it.
Contrary to this movie, the biggest project I worked on was a documentary on the Shahid platform for the Lebanese singer Fadel Chaker titled “Ya Ghayeb.” It remains one of the most precious experiences of my career — my first truly large-scale project, and one that I’m very proud of. We shot the series in Turkey with a completely different crew. The story is controversial, and I faced many personal obstacles along the way, but I outgrew them. I am proud of this project now because I focused on the human side — telling the story of a well-known Lebanese artist who had been living in a refugee camp for a long time. It felt like a natural continuation of the way I see the world and the kinds of stories I am drawn to tell.
During COVID-19, I was at home and decided to create a small project for my city, Tripoli, to cheer people up in those dark times. I went out and shot footage of people I know, as well as famous and well-known people in Tripoli. I photographed them wearing masks but still smiling.
A: You’ve worked with Roarpark and other production houses — how have these collaborations influenced your storytelling and professional growth?
F: Roarpark is definitely a unique experience since it’s my own production company. It really reflects my vision and the way I love to work. It feels like home — a space with no restrictions, always searching for creative solutions and the best outcomes. I can’t achieve the same results with other production companies because each has its own mindset or strategy.
However, working with different production companies helped me build my own company. I experienced how different people work, how teams function, and how decisions are made. This exposure helped me understand how to run my own company, the kinds of projects I would like to take on, and the environment I want to create.
A: Do your films share a common thread or message — a social, political, or personal identity you return to in different ways?
F: After ten years of working in the industry, I feel that I am drawn to social and political themes. These themes grew with me as an artist, and over time, I began to notice a pattern emerging in my films. I tackle them differently now. In my younger self, I had a different perspective, and as I grew older, I gradually found my voice. Being a filmmaker pushed me to dig deeper into the themes and stories that interested me. In turn, that process made me evolve, and I outgrew earlier versions of myself as I discovered my voice on this journey.
Whenever I am on a difficult journey or project — part of the job as a filmmaker—I always have moments when I feel down, overwhelmed, or stressed. But when the project is finally launched, its success motivates me to move forward. I realize that I am exactly where I am supposed to be, in the right place and doing what I am meant to do. When a film project succeeds, I forget the hardships and struggles. Then I begin another journey with a new film— again full of challenges—but I am reminded of the successes of other films, their connection with audiences, and the final outcome always makes the journey beautiful and worthwhile.
A: Can you recall moments of beauty, struggle, or surprise during filming that reminded you why you chose this path?
F: I feel thankful and blessed to be able to pursue my dream and to work as a filmmaker. I have always dreamt of working as a filmmaker. Every moment of struggle and every moment of beauty remind me why I wanted to enter this field. When I am on set, I take a moment to appreciate what I am doing. And when I face a difficult moment or an unexpected challenge, I take a moment and pause to appreciate the life I am living. Whenever a large audience views a film project and receives positive feedback, that is the moment that reminds me that the struggles in this industry are small compared to the joy and fulfillment I receive from the audience’s response.
Every moment of struggle and every moment of beauty remind me why I wanted to enter this field. When I am on set, I take a moment to appreciate what I am doing. And when I face a difficult moment or an unexpected challenge, I take a moment and pause to appreciate the life I am living.
A: What do you hope to achieve through your films — artistically, socially, or emotionally? How do you see your work contributing to wider conversations about representation, memory, and belonging?
F: I hope that I can continue to make the films that I want to make artistically. As a filmmaker, I feel that I have to make a film that is artistically true to my ideas. If the audience loves it, finds it socially impactful, and if it sparks wider conversations, then that is the audience’s interpretation; it’s their reception of the art I created that sparked those conversations.
As long as I am true to my art form, the audience’s reaction and reception are not my main concern. I am only focused on the artistic expression itself. When a filmmaker starts overthinking or deliberately shaping a film around social conversations, the film might stray from its authentic artistic expression. It shifts from being a work of art to something closer to social campaigning and didactic commentary.
That’s why I believe it is not the job of any filmmaker to think about that, but to focus on staying authentic to the project’s vision and inspiration.
For me, I just hope to keep making the films I want to make, to stay true to my artistic voice while continuing to find, refine and grow it.
Fatma Racha Shehadeh, a Lebanese-Palestinian director and cinematographer, has earned multiple awards for her films at various film festivals around the world. She directed her latest project, “Sahak lshok,” for the Lebanese singer Fadel Chaker, which reached 121 million views on YouTube, as well as “Rouh El Baher” for Fadel Chaker.
