★★★★

One of the most entertaining and thoughtful documentaries of 2022 turns out to be about an all-female Lebanese thrash metal band.

Sirens, written and directed by Rita Baghdadi, finds melody in the grinding, guttural howls created by Slave to Sirens. Formed in 2015, the five women comprising the group are writing songs, playing to small crowds in even smaller venues, and trying to make their mark in a competitive music world. The novelty of women making thrash music is one thing, but attempting this in the backdrop of a conservative Middle Eastern country is striking. Then, when you add in the fact that some members of the band are gay and more than 80% of Lebanese people believe homosexuality should be rejected outright, you see the perilous steps the band walks each and every day.

Baghdadi leaves the outside world, and socio-political climate discussions mostly on the fringe of her story. As we spend time with Slaves to Sirens, two members step to the forefront of the film’s focus - Lilas and Shery. Though we recognize a personal history between them, we also see that they largely set the vision and direction for the band. When Lilas learns of an opportunity to play the famed Glastonbury Festival in the U.K., sponsored by Earache Records, she ignores the disclaimer that the label’s stage will be operating with a micro-budget and envisions “Slave to Sirens on Earache Records.”

Those dreams are universal. But so is the subsequent disappointment, need for thick skin, and potential for failure. With Glastonbury not the experience they thought it would be, the band turns back to what they know - playing gigs and writing songs. And then comes the vulnerability, the sweeping pendulum of confidence. The highs and lows. Now add in the inability to live one’s life authentically, to celebrate who you are without fear of reprisal. Slaves to Sirens is not just a band, it’s a small community that, for this time and place, needs to survive and keep pushing forward.

Despite the barriers in place, the struggles, the internal band conflict that inevitably bubbles to the surface, and the political explosiveness lurking in the shadows, Sirens is a story of reslience. For the band with songs like “Terminal Leeches”, ”Humanesiticide”, and “Congenital Evil,” you could not find a more interesting, inviting group of characters to observe in a documentary setting.

There is also a love story at play here. Whether it is Lilas’ Syrian girlfriend, Alaa, or simmering tensions between bandmates who may have been together at one time, there is also a message of female empowerment that rings loud and clear. Sirens reminds us that the love and support these women share with one another is as vital as their latest churning, grinding guitar solo or guttural howls on the microphone.

You sense the pride Baghdadi has in telling this story. And though the often narrow view of just two or three significant characters can sometimes feel stifling in trying to get a sense of all the individuals involved in the overall story being told, Sirens sings loudly, finding a tender heart beating profoundly alongside with the cacophony of rage and fury that punctutates the soundtrack.

Sirens was screened as part of the Fifth Annual North Bend Film Festival.