Our Story /One Land. One memory. One Story.
Rasmi Damo
2015, Palestine, 7min
A Palestinian wedding in 1948 is shattered by violence, beginning a generational journey of displacement, memory, and survival told through a single traditional song.
Short Synopsis:
A Palestinian wedding in 1948 is suddenly interrupted by violence and forced exile. Across generations, the story follows a fragmented yet continuous journey of displacement, loss, and resilience. Told without dialogue and carried by a single traditional Palestinian song, Our Story is a poetic animated film about memory, belonging, and the quiet persistence of life across time.
Language: None
Recommended for children under 14 years of age: Yes
Technique: 2D animation, mixed media
Team:
Director & Writer: Rasmi Damo
Producer: Fekra Arts Institute
Story Editor: Suhail Al-Salmi
Painter: Jameel El-Geeg
Animation : Emad Zaqut, Khamis Mashharawi, Rasmi Damo
Film Editor: Mohammed Al-Khaldi
Sound Mixing: Ahmed Al-Khaldi
Music Selection: Nedal Damo, Mohammed Saleh
Song Lyrics: Ibrahim Musain
Song Composition: Moneim Adwan
Singer: Rola Srour
Artistic note:
Our Story turns to animation because some memories can only be felt, not directly shown, where reality and memory blur into one. The absence of dialogue reflects how experiences of loss and displacement are often carried in silence, beyond words. A single traditional Palestinian song becomes the voice of the film, holding everything together across time and generations. At its core, the film tries to stay close to what remains: memory, fragility, and the quiet way life keeps going.
Director’s Statement:
Our Story comes from a need to hold onto fragments of memory that history often leaves scattered. It begins with a Palestinian wedding in 1948, an image of joy suddenly interrupted, and moves through generations shaped by displacement, loss, and quiet forms of endurance.
I turned to animation because it gives space to what cannot be held in fixed images. It allows memory to move, shift, and blur the way it does in real life. In this space, silence carries meaning. The absence of dialogue reflects how stories are often passed down—not through clear words, but through gestures, fragments, and what remains unspoken.
A single traditional Palestinian song carries the film from beginning to end. It feels like a thread between people and places, holding together moments that would otherwise drift apart, and giving a sense of continuity across time.
I was also interested in the quiet tension between what we see and what is really there—how images can comfort, hide, or distort. Rather than explaining this directly, I wanted it to be felt through the film itself.
Stills:
