Birds of War (2026) 'Sundance' Documentary Review: A Penetrating Account of Lovers Caught in a State of Endless War

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Last year, we witnessed a wave of projects that explored the pressures of living under an oppressive regime, where one’s voice is silenced, and dissent is suppressed, often to sustain the illusion of collective well-being. Kleber Mendonça Filho’s “The Secret Agent” did so through the lens of political dissidents in Brazil, whereas Jafar Panahi’s “It Was Just an Accident” did so through the lens of Iranian dissenters.

Wrapped in a revolutionary aesthetic, Paul Thomas Anderson’s “One Battle After Another” revealed the personal cost of these efforts through a tender father-daughter tale. It also explored the tribulations in a romantic relationship between two fictional revolutionaries, even if their commitment to revolution may have wavered along the way.

Now “Birds of War,” a documentary premiering at Sundance, paints a searing account of real-life lovers who fell in love through their efforts for peace during times of war. Written and directed by Janay Boulos and Abd Alkader Habak, the film offers their personal account, as they found solace in each other’s company while documenting the reality of Syria in the 2010s.

Boulos was a Lebanese journalist working for the BBC in London, UK, while Habak was a Syrian resident who decided to stay in the country despite the ongoing war. Since international journalists could not be in the country and document the reality on the ground, Habak decided to do so with his camera. That’s how he got in touch with Boulos.

Birds of War (2026) — A still from “Birds of War” (2026)

The film resumes with footage that Habak captured in Aleppo while working on the editorially approved stories along with Boulos. It introduces the chilling silence in those dilapidated areas with no sign of life. Every day, people seem consumed by a constant fear of an attack, living their lives by the beat, not by choice but for the lack of it. Habak decided to make their reality known to the world by staying in the country despite the threats surrounding the population. Through his eyes, we get a sense of their disheartening reality.

Paired with the harrowing footage from Syria are the parts of Boulos’ reality in London, calmer in appearance but with an undercurrent of fear. On one hand, you see a man carrying a child through rubble or a weeping family, hoping for the nightmare to end, while on the other hand, you see people moving on with their lives at a comforting pace, whether in a street, subway, or professional space in London. The juxtaposition is impossible to overlook, and while it presents the contrast in the world Boulous and Habak inhabited, it also conveys a common thread of hope for change that bound them through thick and thin.

It leads us not only to realize the underlying subtext but to feel the profound connection they felt with each other. You can feel their love through their chats, showing them being comfortable with each other by being funny, coy, and affectionate, and finding respite even in those brief exchanges when they endearingly referred to each other as ‘birdie.’

You can sense it as lucidly through frames when he is trying to catch his breath while running for his life, paired with the conversation they had around that time. So, while witnessing the violence and terror on their paths, you can’t help but find their bond charming. Their disarming presence becomes the soul of this film that restates the power of love over war.

The documentary offers a personal, albeit not the most insightful or informative, account of the troubling situation in the country. So, for those unfamiliar with the specifics of this civil war, the film won’t serve as a comprehensive account. It briefly introduces why people may have different ways of looking at the crisis at hand, the regime, and Western intervention, but doesn’t expand much on that front. As the revolution gets broadcast, we witness their passionate reactions. However, we do not understand the extent of changes it would lead to, beyond a brief musing from one of their family members.

Despite it all, the film offers a deeply absorbing and moving account of two lovers whose lives are defined by their commitment to shedding light on the truth. It also exposes lesser-explored aspects of war, how outsiders’ nearly voyeuristic investment in the inner workings affects the people living in those lands. A similar investment affected Habak’s life, making it even more challenging to record the truth.

Yet, in our present times, when pessimism seems to be at an all-time high, Boulos and Habak’s continued hope for change conveys not their naivety but their strength. It takes courage to continue working, striving for a better life for everyone, in a world that seems to be getting weary of its own existence. That’s why “Birds of War” quietly becomes an ode to optimistic revolutionaries, who we not only need but be in ways possible to us.