Proud Sudan Filmmakers Bring Message of War and Hope to Sundance

Timeea Mohamed Ahmed, Phil Cox, Ibrahim Snoopy Ahmad, Anas Saeed and Rawia Alhag attend the "Khartoum" Premiere during the 2025 Sundance Film Festival at Egyptian Theater on January 27, 2025, in Park City, Utah. (Getty Images/AFP)
Timeea Mohamed Ahmed, Phil Cox, Ibrahim Snoopy Ahmad, Anas Saeed and Rawia Alhag attend the "Khartoum" Premiere during the 2025 Sundance Film Festival at Egyptian Theater on January 27, 2025, in Park City, Utah. (Getty Images/AFP)
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Proud Sudan Filmmakers Bring Message of War and Hope to Sundance

Timeea Mohamed Ahmed, Phil Cox, Ibrahim Snoopy Ahmad, Anas Saeed and Rawia Alhag attend the "Khartoum" Premiere during the 2025 Sundance Film Festival at Egyptian Theater on January 27, 2025, in Park City, Utah. (Getty Images/AFP)
Timeea Mohamed Ahmed, Phil Cox, Ibrahim Snoopy Ahmad, Anas Saeed and Rawia Alhag attend the "Khartoum" Premiere during the 2025 Sundance Film Festival at Egyptian Theater on January 27, 2025, in Park City, Utah. (Getty Images/AFP)

Their country's war rarely tops global news bulletins, and Sudan has never had a film at Sundance before.

So the makers of documentary "Khartoum" carried their national flag with pride and a sense of deep responsibility to their premiere at the influential US movie festival on Monday.

"The film is acting as an ambassador," said Ibrahim Snoopy Ahmad, co-director of the movie, which portrays five ordinary people from Sudan's capital, all forced to flee the violence.

"On a national level, everyone's looking up at us now and telling us, 'You guys should push forward to let the world know what's happening in Sudan,'" he told AFP before the premiere.

"Not begging, or in a pathetic way, but in a way that says 'Hey, hey, world, we're here.'"

For nearly two years, Sudan has been engulfed in a brutal war between its army chief and the head of the paramilitary Rapid Support Forces (RSF).

The conflict has claimed the lives of tens of thousands of people, uprooted more than 12 million and pushed many Sudanese to the brink of famine.

The film project kicked off in late 2022, originally intended to be a "cinematic poem" of everyday life in the Sudanese capital Khartoum, filmed on location with donated iPhones.

Although a brief period of civilian rule had just been swiftly thwarted by military leaders, the filmmakers initially recorded their subjects in relative calm, following a civil servant, a tea vendor, a pro-democracy "resistance volunteer" and two young boys.

Civil servant Majdi tended to his racing pigeons. Mischievous young best friends Lokain and Wilson sifted through trash to raise money to buy beautiful shirts from the market.

"We were just this close to finishing the film -- the last 20 percent -- but then war broke out," recalled Ahmad.

Amid the chaos, "at some point we lost contact with the characters," but the filmmakers were able to locate their subjects and help them flee abroad.

Once safely outside the country, the entire film team met up for a workshop to decide whether -- and how -- to continue.

They settled on an experimental format, in which the five subjects narrated their experiences of the onset of war in front of a green screen, which would later be filled with images matching their accounts.

"Animation, interviews, dreamscape sequences, reenactments -- all of that into one big mix, which is 'Khartoum,'" said Ahmad.

Ahmad and his co-directors hope that by bringing international attention to the war, they can indirectly reach or influence those deciding on policies.

"Look at this room. There's at least 200 people. Now everyone knows the word Khartoum," Ahmad told AFP at a Sundance event.

"Let's say only one or two percent of them will look up, 'what's Khartoum, what's Sudan, what's happening?' They will spark a conversation."

Perhaps the film's most poignant moments come from young Lokain and Wilson, who laugh about how they think the warring adults are "stupid," and busy themselves with daydreams of riding a magical lion around Khartoum.

During one interview, the smiles suddenly disappear, as they describe the arrival of an RSF assault.

"There was one guy who had no head. Another, whose face was burned. Another, his body in pieces," they recall.

Ahmad, who has a background in journalism, said he hopes the film can prove more effective than his previous news work, which had come to feel "like it's a dead end" in reaching global audiences.

If it can prompt "just a simple discussion with your friend about Sudan, what's happening -- it's more than enough," he said.



Beyonce and the Grammys: A Tense Relationship again at a Head

Beyonce, shown here performing with her daughter Blue Ivy during an NFL game on Christmas Day 2024, is the artist with the most Grammys ever. Alex Slitz / GETTY IMAGES NORTH AMERICA/AFP/File
Beyonce, shown here performing with her daughter Blue Ivy during an NFL game on Christmas Day 2024, is the artist with the most Grammys ever. Alex Slitz / GETTY IMAGES NORTH AMERICA/AFP/File
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Beyonce and the Grammys: A Tense Relationship again at a Head

Beyonce, shown here performing with her daughter Blue Ivy during an NFL game on Christmas Day 2024, is the artist with the most Grammys ever. Alex Slitz / GETTY IMAGES NORTH AMERICA/AFP/File
Beyonce, shown here performing with her daughter Blue Ivy during an NFL game on Christmas Day 2024, is the artist with the most Grammys ever. Alex Slitz / GETTY IMAGES NORTH AMERICA/AFP/File

Beyonce is the most decorated artist in Grammys history, and her album releases have both triggered cultural earthquakes and reshaped music industry norms.

But few artists have ever been snubbed so conspicuously by the Recording Academy -- for all her trailblazing accomplishments, Beyonce has never won the prestigious prizes for best album or record, said AFP.

Once again on Sunday, she will head to the Grammys gala with the most chances to win, after "Cowboy Carter" -- her genre-spanning, sociopolitically charged conversation piece of an album -- dropped last spring to critical acclaim.

It earned her a fifth nomination for Album of the Year: in years past, she has lost to Taylor Swift, Beck, Adele and, most recently, Harry Styles.

As for Record of the Year, this is her ninth shot at a golden gramophone.

And in a glaringly consistent pattern, nearly all of Beyonce's losses have been to white pop and rock artists.

"If she wins the Album of the Year category for 'Cowboy Carter,' it would be -- for me, personally -- similar to when Barack Obama won the presidency," said Birgitta Johnson, a professor of African American studies and music history at the University of South Carolina.

To explain the parallel, Johnson said that upon Obama's victory, "as a Black person in America... I was totally shocked."

'Fault lines'

For Johnson, Grammy voters tend to dismiss collaborative projects, which is Beyonce's bread and butter: the megastar showcases Black music and traditions while elevating fellow artists.

Musicologist Lauron Kehrer seconded that point, citing Beyonce's 2015 loss to Beck for Album of the Year; the chatter afterwards was that while Beyonce worked with a team, Beck put the album together himself.

Voter "values have been more aligned with white-dominated genres like rock and alternative," said Kehrer.

"When we look at pop and R&B and other genres, they take a more collaborative approach -- but that approach to collaboration hasn't really been valued by Grammy voters."

Kehrer said Beyonce's career is emblematic of "fault lines in how organizations think about style and think about genre, especially around race and gender lines."

And though the Grammys have increased the number of contenders in the top categories -- it used to be five, was bumped to 10, and is currently eight -- in a bid to promote diversity, the change has actually meant votes are split to a degree that people of color and less conventional artists still rarely win.

"All those things are coming into play when it comes to Beyonce, this iconic global star that keeps missing this particular brass ring," Johnson said.

No 'one-trick pony'

Beyonce's work is difficult to define -- beyond the top categories, her 11 Grammy nominations this year span Americana, country, pop and rap.

She has previously scooped awards for dance and electronic music.

"She refuses to be a one-trick pony," Kehrer said.

"It does feel like 'Cowboy Carter' especially was a project to show, among other things, that she's a versatile artist who can't be pigeon-holed, and to kind of force institutions in the industry to pay attention to that."

Beyonce has thus challenged the Recording Academy to keep up with her by improving on its categorization of music to better reflect industry trends -- something that the Grammy organizers have indeed endeavored to do.

In the end, the Grammys need Beyonce a whole lot more than she needs the Grammys, Johnson says.

Her touch is vital to the gala "so they can seem not only relevant, but as inclusive as they claim they have been trying to be," she told AFP.

'Litmus test'

As for winning prizes, if that were Beyonce's primary concern, she would write music tailored for that, Johnson notes.

Instead, "she's trying to do more work around narratives and identity," the professor said.

"She's one of those rare artists who are free creatively, but also has the wealth to propel her vision."

That vision trickles down to the artists who routinely win the big prizes, Johnson said, pointing to Grammys darling Billie Eilish as an example of how younger generations take inspiration from Beyonce to work across genres.

Ultimately, even if Queen Bey doesn't need institutional approval, wins matter for fans -- and, in turn, representation.

"It's hard to get around the fact that it's such a significant recognition," Kehrer said, calling the Grammys a "litmus test for where we are on race and genre in the music industry."