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    ‘Notes on Displacement’ Review: Seeking a Fresh Start in Europe

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    The artist and director Khaled Jarrar accompanies a group of people from Syria on their way to Germany in this documentary.As its title implies, “Notes on Displacement” is more of a scattered assemblage of scenes than a polished documentary. It follows the director, the Palestinian artist Khaled Jarrar, over travels from Greece to Germany — by boat, bus, train and frequently by foot — as he accompanies a group of refugees from Syria seeking a fresh start in Europe.Nadira, the matriarch of the main family in the film, was born in Nazareth in 1936, and Mona, her now-adult daughter, was born in a refugee camp for displaced Palestinians in Damascus. Part of what Jarrar, who was born in the West Bank city of Jenin, aims to show is the psychology — and absurdity — of being uprooted in two ways. (“When you get a German passport,” Jarrar tells Nadira near the end, “you can visit Palestine.”)Jarrar, credited with the cinematography and sound, trails his subjects from camp to camp. (“Our dream,” one person says of the twists and turns, “has become to know where we are.”) Although the director occasionally identifies himself as an artist or insists to an authority figure that he has a right to continue filming, there are some points when he needed or chose to keep his camera hidden from view.It is clear that this rudimentary setup means that a lot of the trek was lost. Many night scenes are barely legible, and there are still other moments when Jarrar, on the fly, appears to have been more concerned with recording sound than image. But this hectic, disorienting style is surely part of the message, given that the filmmaker pointedly saves basic biographical information for the closing titles. In its form, “Notes on Displacement” mirrors the terrifying, dangerous journey it chronicles.Notes on DisplacementIn Arabic, with subtitles. Not rated. Running time: 1 hour 20 minutes. In theaters. More

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      Little Amal Arrives in New York, With a Message of Hope and Humanity

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      The 12-foot-tall Syrian refugee puppet traveled from Turkey to Britain last year. Now, she will spend nearly three weeks in the five boroughs taking part in numerous events.As her head peeked out from above metal barriers, Little Amal widened her eyes as she took in the arrivals terminal at Kennedy International Airport on Wednesday. She looked left, then right, clutching her big green suitcase with its rainbow and sun stickers. She was, as newcomers to New York City so often are, a little nervous, and a little lost.But then, some music. As Little Amal lumbered through the terminal, the Metropolitan Opera Orchestra, its music director, Yannick Nézet-Séguin, and its children’s chorus began to perform music of welcome: the final chorus from Philip Glass’s opera about Gandhi’s early life, “Satyagraha” — whose title translates loosely to “resistance.”Amal, a 10-year-old Syrian refugee puppet, appeared transfixed by the music — much like the many travelers strolling by with their suitcases appeared transfixed by the 12-foot-tall puppet suddenly towering before them. Still, she was trepidatious, a tad reluctant to approach the orchestra. At least, that is, until a chorus member — a girl wearing a sunflower yellow shirt — went up to her and took her by the hand.Amal and her puppeteers made their way through Terminal 4, and were welcomed by members of the Metropolitan Opera Orchestra and its children’s choir.Todd Heisler/The New York TimesAmal has traveled across Europe and met with Ukrainian refugees in Poland. Now she has made her way to the Big Apple with big plans. For the rest of this month, she will tour all five boroughs, visiting with children, artists, politicians and community leaders as she begins a search for her uncle, and, her creators hope, helps highlight the experience, hardship and beauty of millions of displaced refugees.Her extended walk through New York City will include more than 50 events of welcome like the one at the airport on Wednesday. She will pick flowers at a community garden in Queens, walk across the High Bridge in the Bronx, ride the Staten Island Ferry, dance in the streets of Washington Heights and find herself amid a Syrian wedding procession in Bay Ridge.“She will render visibility to something people don’t want to see,” said Amir Nizar Zuabi, the artistic director of the Walk Productions, which is presenting the public art involving Amal, along with St. Ann’s Warehouse in Brooklyn.Amal has already traveled quite a distance — 5,000 miles from Turkey to Britain last year — in search of her mother. And on Wednesday, when she stepped into the arrivals terminal she was greeted by a top-flight welcome committee.Embarking on a U.S. walk: Amal will participate in over 50 events across the five boroughs through Oct. 2.Todd Heisler/The New York Times“Opera is about dreaming and it’s also about reflecting our world,” Nézet-Séguin told The New York Times before the welcome. “Especially in the past years and months, the Met has been showing how important it is to welcome everyone to our opera house and also to really, truly respond to our times and connect with everyone in the world.”“I know this is going to be a very moving event,” he added.For those unfamiliar with Little Amal’s story and her journey, here is a look at who Amal is, where she has been, where she is going — and why.The making of AmalAmal, whose name means “hope” in Arabic, is operated by up to four people, including one person on stilts. Designed by the Handspring Puppet Company based in South Africa, Amal is delicate — her arms and upper body are made of bamboo canes — and she sometimes requires maintenance.The puppet is the protagonist in what is ostensibly a traveling theater project meant to remind a news-fatigued public about the children fleeing violence and persecution. Syrian refugees garnered considerable attention in 2015 and 2016 as they fled the country. The Walk in Europe followed a route similar to the one taken by some Syrians who fled.As it happened, Amal began her European walk in the summer of 2021, shortly after the Taliban takeover in Afghanistan, which spurred a fresh migration crisis in Europe. Over four months, Amal crossed the continent, stopping at refugee camps, town squares and the Royal Opera House in London. To date, she has been part of more than 190 events in more than 80 towns, cities and villages in 12 countries.Amal and her puppeteers in Calais, France, last October. It was one of many stops she made during a four-month, 5,000-mile journey from Turkey to Britain.Elliott Verdier for The New York Times“We were really taken by the amount of people who took to the streets to welcome her,” Zuabi said during a recent interview conducted via Zoom. “It became very clear that while the governments are talking on a certain level on this issue, the people of the cities are willing to engage.”Now Amal is continuing her journey in New York.“New York’s ethos — or at least the way it perceives itself — is this great human endeavor created by wave on wave of migration,” Zuabi said. “New Yorkers celebrate what they have achieved through this melting pot of migrations and how stories have amalgamated for growth and for culture. Taking Amal here was a way to investigate that and also investigate the United States in a very particular moment.“How do you want to welcome her?” he added. “I truly hope that in this very busy, very hectic city, people will take a moment and come and be empathetic and reach out to each other through this stranger.”As was the case in Europe, many of Little Amal’s stops are planned and include visits with artistic and institutional leaders; other encounters may be more spontaneous. And there are plans in the works, officials say, for a later trip across America.“It’s one big theater show happening for free on your streets,” Zuabi said. “You don’t need to travel far to a fancy theater and get dressed — you can walk down in your pajamas if you want.”July 2021: TurkeyIn Adana, Turkey, children flew flocks of homemade birds around Amal.Tara Todras-Whitehill for The New York TimesAmal’s first stop was in Gaziantep, a city in southern Turkey just 40 miles from the Syrian border. It’s where many Syrian refugees have settled. At one point, she visited a park where Syrian children sang to her; another group gave her a handmade trunk, filled with gifts for her journey.August 2021: GreeceAmal met some resistance in Greece. She had planned to visit the Greek World Heritage site of Meteora, known for Orthodox monasteries perched upon towering rocks. But a local council banned her scheduled picnic on the grounds that a “Muslim doll from Syria” shouldn’t be performing in a space important to Greek Orthodox believers. (Amal’s religion has never been specified.)Later, in Larissa, in central Greece, people pelted Amal with eggs, fruit and even stones. Then in Athens, her planned events drew protests and counterprotests.September 2021: RomeDuring a visit to Vatican City to meet the pope, Amal embraced a bronze statue in St. Peter’s Square that depicts 140 migrants, including Jews fleeing the Nazis.Remo Casilli/ReutersUpon arriving in Rome, Amal went to the Vatican, strolled through St. Peter’s Square, hugged a bronze statue depicting 140 migrants and met Pope Francis, a vocal supporter of refugees. She proceeded to the Teatro India, one of Rome’s most well-known theaters, where paintings, collages and digital works by the Syrian artist Tammam Azzam flashed up on a wall behind her. The works were nightmarish visions of the war-torn home she’d left behind.October 2021: FranceAt a town square, with locals leaning out of apartment windows, Amal danced to the music performed by a group of refugee and migrant rappers. Then she headed for the beach, where she was joined by 30 other puppets her size. Joyce DiDonato, the American opera singer, offered a serenade.November 2021: EnglandTo close out her long journey, Amal went to Manchester, where thousands of fans waited for her at the Castlefield Bowl, many expecting her to be reunited with her mother. As she took her final steps, a flock of wooden puppet swallows surrounded her and then, in a burst of smoke, an image of a woman’s face appeared — her mother in spirit, if not person.“Daughter, you’ve got so far — so very far away from home — and it’s cold, so stay warm,” a gentle voice intoned in Arabic. “I’m proud of you.”May 2022: UkraineSince completing her 2021 journey, Amal has traveled to Lviv and to several cities in Poland to visit Ukrainian refugee children and families who were forced to flee after the Russian invasion of Ukraine.Sept. 14 and 21: QueensTodd Heisler/The New York TimesAfter her arrival at Kennedy Airport on Wednesday, Little Amal will set out for Jamaica, Queens, with her big suitcase. She may get some help navigating the city from her friends at the Jamaica Center for Arts and Learning. But how will she fare in Astoria when night falls?Little Amal will return to Queens on Sept. 21 to visit Corona and Jackson Heights.Sept. 15 to Oct. 1: ManhattanLittle Amal will not leave New York without seeing all of the sights. While in Manhattan, she has planned visits to Grand Central Terminal, the New York Public Library, Times Square, Lincoln Center and St. Patrick’s Cathedral.Later in her trip, she will go to City Hall, and visit Washington Heights, Harlem, Chinatown and several other neighborhoods.Sept. 19 to Oct. 2: BrooklynAs it turns out, Amal has some roots in Brooklyn: In 2018, St. Ann’s Warehouse presented an Off Broadway play, “The Jungle,” that introduced the character of Amal.The play will return to St. Ann’s early next year.“We left like we needed her here,” said Susan Feldman, the president and artistic director of St. Ann’s Warehouse, an organizer of Little Amal’s New York walk.“If you ask me what is the best thing to do, you want to walk with her,” Feldman said. “The best times are when people first see her.”During her time in the borough, Amal will make stops at the Brooklyn Children’s Museum, Brooklyn Bridge Park, Green-Wood Cemetery and several Brooklyn neighborhoods. She will also make multiple visits to St. Ann’s Warehouse, including on her last day in the city, on Oct. 2.Sept. 25 and 26: The BronxAmal will visit Mott Haven in search of the waterfront. She is also interested in crossing the High Bridge but may need help from the community to overcome her fear of heights.Sept. 30: Staten IslandAmal will ride the Staten Island Ferry, and head to Snug Harbor, where she will be welcomed by a parade.Alex Marshall contributed reporting. More

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      The Unraveling of an Award-Winning Documentary

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      The director of “Sabaya,” about Yazidi women who had been sexually enslaved by ISIS, says that he wasn’t present for a key scene and that he substituted footage.BAGHDAD — In a pivotal scene of the 2021 documentary “Sabaya,” two men rescue a young woman named Leila from a Syrian detention camp for the families of ISIS fighters, bundling her into a car and driving her to safety as shots are fired behind them.In interviews with BBC Radio and others, the film’s Iraqi-Swedish director, Hogir Hirori, recounted the tension of the rescue and the terror of the ride as they raced from Al Hol detention camp with the young woman, one of thousands of women and girls from Iraq’s Yazidi religious minority who had been sexually enslaved by ISIS.The dramatic scene helped the Swedish-government-funded film garner glowing reviews and awards, including best director for a foreign documentary at the Sundance Film Festival last year. But following an investigation by a Swedish magazine, Kvartal, Hirori has admitted that he was not there when Leila was freed, that he substituted another woman instead and that he lied to a BBC interviewer.The admissions follow findings by The New York Times last year that many of the traumatized women either did not initially consent to be in the film or refused but were included anyway. The director’s admissions have also renewed accusations that the documentary played down the coerced separation of mothers from their young children, born during enslavement by ISIS — and turned the very men responsible for that separation into heroes for rescuing them.While Yazidi women sexually enslaved by ISIS were welcomed back by their communities after ISIS was defeated, the children were not. Some women did not want the children, but for most, the forced separations have had serious repercussions, including suicide attempts.In a statement issued after the Kvartal investigation, Hirori acknowledged that he had depicted Leila’s escape “using a rescue scene of another woman which I participated in.” He said the woman who was presented as Leila, the main character, did not want to be filmed after the rescue and so he did not mention her in the documentary.Speaking in Swedish through an interpreter, he told BBC Radio last year, “It was important for me to film it as it was happening because that was the reality.” In the interview, one of several in which he expressed the same sentiment, he also spoke of the Yazidi women: “They aren’t just numbers, they are people just like you and me.”The BBC has removed the lengthy interview from its website after press queries. A BBC spokesperson said it was being reviewed. Hirori said in his statement that he regretted not telling the BBC the truth about the rescue scene.A timeline by Kvartal also showed that in three scenes that included news reports about the battle against ISIS and a Turkish invasion, audio was inserted from events that had occurred several months earlier or weeks later. In at least one of the scenes, the film’s hero reacts to news from the car radio that he could not have been hearing.Hirori and the film’s producer, Antonio Russo Merenda, a former Swedish Film Institute commissioner who has said he was heavily involved in the film’s editing, did not respond to requests for comment by The Times.In his statement following the Kvartal investigation, Hirori said that the film was not intended to be journalism and that Swedish documentary tradition allowed filmmakers “to express their own unique view of events.”Kristina Eriksson, a communications officer at the Swedish Film Institute, said, “We follow the debate about the role of documentaries and welcome the discussion, but nothing has emerged so far that gives us reason to act in relation to the film.” She declined to clarify whether the institute had procedures governing the veracity of documentary films it funded.The issue of forced separations is the single most contentious one among Yazidis. While the Yazidi Home Center featured in “Sabaya” was responsible for finding and caring for hundreds of Iraqi Yazidis freed from ISIS captivity, the organization, acting on instructions from Yazidi elders in Iraq, also arranged for the children to be taken from their mothers. Most were sent to an orphanage in northeastern Syria that the women were not allowed to visit once they returned to Iraq.Almost all the women were told that to go home after being rescued from Al Hol camp, they would have to give up their children. The women were also told, falsely, as was one of the woman in “Sabaya,” that the separation would be temporary.Hirori has said he did not have space in the film to address the issue. “My focus was in trying to document how these women and girls were saved and not to go into the whole giving up the children,” he said in an interview with The Times last year.Sherizaan Minwalla, a human rights lawyer based in Erbil, Iraq, who has worked extensively with Yazidi genocide survivors, said, “The film portrayed a false narrative of women with children being rescued when in fact they were hiding with their children to avoid being forcibly separated before returning to their families in Iraq.” Some of the women were so afraid they would be separated from their children that they chose to stay in the Syrian detention camp rather than be rescued.A limited number of freed Yazidi women have been reunited with their children. Because those mothers and their children face threats from the Yazidi community in Iraq, almost all have been relocated to other countries.“The director doesn’t need to show situations that are wholly invented falsehoods in the film to have it be a false portrayal,” said Jennifer Crystal Chien, director of Re-Present Media, a San Francisco nonprofit that advocates for storytelling from underrepresented communities. Omitting key information means the viewer can “draw the wrong conclusions,” she said.The documentary was rejected by the Human Rights Watch Film Festival last year because of concerns over consent by traumatized ISIS survivors, but it was shown at the Sundance Film Festival.Months after the release of “Sabaya,” the filmmakers obtained written consents but in languages most of the women do not understand. The agreements entitled the filmmakers to use their names, stories and all footage for any project, in perpetuity.“There are certain types of things that seem in some way exciting or dramatic or have a kind of heroic outcome,” Chien said. “These kind of things are very appealing to people who are making decisions about funding and programing even though they may not know anything about the actual situation in the region or whether the footage that’s being gotten could possibly be gotten with informed consent at all.”Sangar Khaleel More

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      ‘The Story Won’t Die’ Review: Art in a Time of Crisis

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      This documentary about Syrian refugee artists explores the role of art in the face of war and displacement.In 1949, the German philosopher Theodor Adorno famously declared that to write poetry after Auschwitz was “barbaric.” The question underpinning his statement remains ever relevant: In the face of wars, genocides and other atrocities, does art-making serve any purpose? David Henry Gerson’s documentary, “The Story Won’t Die,” answers with a resounding yes. The Syrian refugee artists profiled in the film — men and women who’ve suffered one of the most brutal displacements of our time — make a case not just for art’s survival but for art as a means of survival.Weaving together interviews with a number of Syrian singers, rappers, dancers and visual artists now based in Europe, Gerson probes the ways in which artistic expression emerges both because and in spite of repression. For some, like the post-rock musician Anas Maghrebi, who brought his three drum kits on the boat across the Atlantic, their vocation is a spiritual life jacket of sorts. For others, like the photographer Omar Imam, the experience of migration has provided a furious impetus: His “Syrialism” series attempts to redefine stereotypical depictions of refugees.Threading the needle between individual tales and a broader historical portrait is as much a challenge for Gerson as it is for his subjects. While the artists are eager to represent their experiences in their work, they want to be seen as more than “a laboratory rat for people to show documentaries about,” says Bahila Hijazi, a member of an all-female Syrian rock band. If Gerson’s brisk supercut style can feel frustratingly cursory at times, he chooses wisely to concede the stage to the artists — rousing scenes from concerts and recitals are the film’s highlights — rather than turn them into data points for an exhaustive account of the refugee crisis.The Story Won’t DieNot rated. In Arabic and English, with subtitles. Running time: 1 hour 23 minutes. In theaters and available to rent or buy on Amazon, Vudu and other streaming platforms and pay TV operators. More

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      Ukrainians Fill Streets With Music, Echoing Past War Zones

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      When bombs began falling on the Ukrainian city of Kharkiv late last month, forcing Vera Lytovchenko to shelter in the basement of her apartment building, she took her violin with her, hoping it might bring comfort.In the weeks since, Lytovchenko, a violinist for the Kharkiv Theater of Opera and Ballet, has given impromptu concerts almost every day for a group of 11 neighbors. In the cold, cramped basement, with nothing in the way of decoration except candles and yellow tulips, she has performed Vivaldi, Tchaikovsky and Ukrainian folk songs.“My music can show that we are still human,” she said in an interview. “We need not just food or water. We need our culture. We are not like animals now. We still have our music, and we still have our hope.”As their cities have come under siege by Russian forces, Ukrainian artists have turned to music for comfort and connection, filling streets, apartment buildings and train stations with the sounds of Beethoven and Mozart.A cellist performed Bach in the center of a deserted street in Kharkiv, with the blown-out windows of the regional police headquarters behind him. A trumpeter played the Ukrainian national anthem in a subway station being used as a bomb shelter. A pianist played a Chopin étude in her apartment, surrounded by ashes and debris left by Russian shelling.Impromptu performances by ordinary citizens have been a feature of many modern conflicts, in the Balkans, Syria and elsewhere. In the social media age, they have become an important way for artists in war zones to build a sense of community and bring attention to suffering. Here are several notable examples.The Pianist of YarmoukAeham Ahmad became a YouTube star by playing piano in the ruins of a Damascus, Syria, neighborhood. This video follows his journey to Europe through a single song, starting in Syria and ending at a performance in a Berlin.Photos by Ilvy Njiokiktjien for The New York TimesAeham Ahmad gained attention in 2013 when he began posting videos showing him playing piano in the ruins of Yarmouk, a neighborhood on the outskirts of Damascus, Syria, that was gutted amid his country’s civil war. Sometimes friends and neighbors sang along. The news media began calling Ahmad the “pianist of Yarmouk.”At the time, government troops kept his neighborhood cordoned off, hitting it with artillery and sometimes airstrikes, as insurgent groups fought for control. Many people suffered from a lack of access to food and medicine; some died.“I want to give them a beautiful dream,” Ahmad told The New York Times in 2013. “To change this black color at least into gray.”Musicians have long played a role in helping people cope with the physical and psychological devastation of war.“They’re trying to recreate community, which has been fractured by war,” said Abby Anderton, an associate professor of music at Baruch College who has studied music in the aftermath of war. “People have a real desire to create normalcy, even if everything around them seems to be disintegrating.”The Cellist of SarajevoDuring the Bosnian war in 1992, Vedran Smailovic became known as the “cellist of Sarajevo” after he commemorated the dead by playing Albinoni’s Adagio in G minor every day at 4 p.m. in the ruins of a downtown square in Sarajevo. He kept playing even as 155-millimeter howitzer shells whistled down on the city.“Many, like Mr. Smailovic, who played the cello for the Sarajevo Opera, reach for an anchor amid the chaos by doing something, however small, that carries them back to the stable, reasoned life they led before,” The Times reported then.“My mother is a Muslim and my father is a Muslim, but I don’t care,” Smailovic said at the time. “I am a Sarajevan, I am a cosmopolitan, I am a pacifist.” He added: “I am nothing special, I am a musician, I am part of the town. Like everyone else, I do what I can.”A Russian Orchestra in a War ZoneThe Mariinsky Theater Orchestra of Russia held a special concert in the historic city of Palmyra, Syria.While ordinary citizens have risen to fame for wartime performances, governments have also sought to promote nationalism in wartime by staging concerts of their own.How the Ukraine War Is Affecting the Cultural WorldCard 1 of 8Olga Smirnova. More

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      ‘Simple as Water’ Review: Family Ties That Span the Globe

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      Filmed in five separate countries, this documentary follows, with ambitious scope and devastating intimacy, Syrian families displaced by war.Megan Mylan’s latest documentary feature takes a humble idea — telling intimate and humanizing stories of Syrian families affected by their home country’s civil war — and achieves it on a nakedly ambitious scale. Filmed over five years in five separate countries, “Simple as Water” is anything but simple when it comes to its technical achievements, weaving together familiar immigrant narratives in ways that still manage to surprise and stun.The film is book ended by vignettes featuring Yasmin, a mother of four living in a refugee camp near the dockyards of Athens, who is fighting to reunite her children with their father in Germany. Her story provides an optimistic through line for Mylan’s other subjects, who offer a much more devastating and uncertain look at the struggles of trying to build a new life in an unfamiliar place. In Turkey, a single mother with no time to care for her children attempts to take them to an orphanage, but her eldest son — a 12-year-old who has assumed the role of caretaker while she’s at work — steadfastly refuses to go.In Pennsylvania, a delivery man named Omar applies for asylum for himself and his teenage brother. Through gradual reveals, we learn that Omar’s brother is not only an amputee, but that he appeared on CNN as a child after his leg was blown off in a Syrian rocket strike.These stories avoid triteness by lingering on the daily, unassuming routines of their characters: after-school basketball games, a sunset walk through an orchard, the fashioning of a makeshift toy out of some string and a milk crate.The level of access that Mylan and her team receive is remarkable on a personal front as well as a political one — a segment that takes place in Syria was shot with the help of two women from Damascus who are credited under pseudonyms. It’s one of the more contemplative moments in “Simple as Water,” bridging together Mylan’s ruminations on parenthood with the uncertainty of a nation’s future.Simple as WaterNot rated. In Arabic and English, with subtitles. Running time: 1 hour 37 minutes. In theaters. More

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      Giant Puppet of Syrian Refugee Angers Some on Walk Through Greece

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      “Little Amal” is on a 5,000-mile journey from Turkey to Britain to highlight the plight of Syrian refugees. But in Greece, some have objected to her presence, saying it could encourage more migrants.ATHENS — A giant puppet of a nine-year-old Syrian girl named Amal has been traveling across Turkey and Greece for much of the past month. It is the first leg of a 5,000-mile journey, one that is rich in symbolism as a new migration crisis looms in Europe following the Taliban takeover in Afghanistan.The puppet is the lead character in an ambitious theater project called “The Walk” that aims to draw attention to the refugee experience by following a route similar to that taken by some Syrians who escaped the civil war in their country. “Little Amal” and her handlers plan to cross eight countries and dozens of cities in an 8,000-kilometer bid to shine a light on the plight of millions of displaced refugees.But Amal, who is 12 feet tall and “walks” with the aid of the team of puppeteers accompanying her, is not welcome everywhere.On Monday, the local council of Meteora, a municipality in central Greece, voted to ban Amal from walking through a village in the area, which is home to a UNESCO World Heritage site known for its cluster of Orthodox monasteries built on towering rock formations.The objection raised by several council members was that a puppet depicting a Muslim refugee should not be permitted to perform in a space of such importance to Greek Orthodox believers. The local bishop opposed the project for that reason, while a local heritage group complained that the initiative could bring more refugees to a country that has already taken in tens of thousands.The tensions in this corner of Greece come as Europe wrestles once again with the inflammatory issue of migration amid the escalating crisis in Afghanistan.Greece was particularly hard-hit by the migration crisis of 2015-2016, which saw more than 1 million refugees stream through the country — mostly from Syria, Iraq and Afghanistan.Meteora, central Greece, in May. The local council voted to ban the puppet from “walking” through the area.Dimitris Tosidis/EPA, via ShutterstockThen, many Greeks, particularly on the Aegean Islands, pitched in to help. Over time, however, solidarity was replaced by frustration, which intensified during a standoff at the land border with Turkey in March 2020 when thousands of migrants tried to enter Greece. Since then, Greek authorities have toughened their stance, extending a metal fence at the land border and drafting legislation to accelerate deportations.During a debate in Parliament on the bill on Friday, the migration minister, Notis Mitarachi, said that Greece “will not allow itself to become a gateway to Europe for illegal migration flows, as it was from 2015 to 2019.”The local heritage association in Meteora said it was particularly worried that the puppet initiative could encourage a new wave of refugees to Greece.“How much solidarity can Greece show?” Grigorios Kalyvas, the association’s head, said. “Isn’t there a limit to what we can do and how many we can take?”In a session of the local council on Monday night, the mayor of Meteora, Theodoros Alekos, said his concern had to do with the presence of a “Muslim doll from Syria” in an area rich in Orthodox significance and popular for religious tourism. Worries that the local walk, which had been planned for Sunday, could exacerbate the spread of the coronavirus at a time of record infection levels in Greece also factored into the decision to stop it, he said.The puppet would not be prevented from crossing the municipality’s main town of Kalambaka on its way through Greece, the council decided, but would not be allowed in villages close to the monasteries.For the local heritage association, this was not good enough. “If they enter the town, there’ll be protests,” Mr. Kalyvas said, saying the puppet’s presence would be an “insult.” He added: “If they keep her wrapped up in the box, that’s fine.”David Lan, one of the producers of “The Walk,” said in a telephone interview from Greece that he had not anticipated opposition to the project, but wasn’t surprised given how some people in Europe perceive refugees. “It’s a very live issue with Afghanistan,” he added.The plan had been for Amal, whose name means “hope” in Arabic, to walk near the monasteries and have a picnic with local children, Mr. Lan said, adding that his team had secured approval from regional authorities for the event. But they now planned to go elsewhere. “If we’re not welcome, we don’t go.”“The Walk” evolved out of the “The Jungle,” an acclaimed play about refugees that had runs on London’s West End and at St. Ann’s Warehouse in Brooklyn.The project involves Amal and her puppeteers traveling from Gazientep, Turkey, to Manchester, England, with numerous detours along the way. Gaziantep was chosen as it is home to tens of thousands of Syrians, and Manchester because of its high concentration of asylum seekers.Along the way, Amal joins events with local artists, children and refugee groups.In Gazientep, excited children held up lanterns to guide Amal through the city. And on the Greek island of Chios, choirs sang to welcome her as an orchestra played.“The meaning’s obvious,” Mr. Lan said, referring to the aim of the project. “It’s ‘Don’t forget about us.’”Niki Kitsantonis More

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      ‘Sabaya’ Review: Light Breaking Through Darkness

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      This intrepid, immersive documentary follows the men and women who rescue Yazidi girls kidnapped and held by Islamic State fighters in a Syrian refugee camp.In the black of night in northeastern Syria, two men drive their rickety jeep deep into Al Hol, a refugee camp for families of fighters for the Islamic State, also known as ISIS. The men rifle through tents and argue with hostile residents before finding their target: a Yazidi teenage girl kidnapped years ago and held as a “sabaya” or sex slave. As the rescuers make their way out of the camp with her, they dodge speeding cars and bullets.All of this happens in the first 20-or-so minutes of Hogir Hirori’s “Sabaya.” Mahmud and Ziyad, volunteers at the Yazidi Home Center in Syria, will make several more such trips over the course of the film, and hundreds more after the cameras stop rolling. Their task is enormous, and it demands a stoicism that Hirori’s intrepid, immersive filmmaking mirrors.Shooting with a hand-held camera, Hirori (who also edited the film) stitches together glimpses of the men’s daily lives at the Center — smoke breaks, meals with family, endless phone calls with relatives of the captured girls — into a portrait of unsentimental routine. This is in part a protective tactic: To dwell on the tragedy of the 7-year-old rescued after six years in captivity, or the girl whose family refuses to accept her son because his father is an ISIS fighter, is to open up to debilitating horror.Which makes the courage of the former sabayas who embed themselves in the camp as informers all the more remarkable. As I watched them enter the camp in niqabs, Hirori following closely with his camera, my heart fluttered with both fear and hope. In a film about the light that breaks through the darkest of darknesses, these women shine the brightest.SabayaNot rated. In Kurdish and Arabic, with subtitles. Running time: 1 hour 30 minutes. In theaters. More