Haydar begins by pouring himself a glass of whiskey and getting up to take a few steps. The anxiety that seems to take hold of him at the moment of starting the recording reflects the deep trust one must have in the act of being listened to by another, in order to speak without seeing the effect of one’s own words in the eyes of the person one takes the risk of opening up. While the speech and song broadcast by the transistor in Kafr Kassem fostered a sense of unity, the telephone and tape recorder in Beirut, the Encounter, reveal this concern. What moves me in Borhane Alaouié’s film is the importance he gives to the voice in the formation of friendly and romantic desire, the depth of his doubt about the possibility of untangling, through dialogue, the collapse of meaning, and the vulnerability of sharing his film with viewers while he was inhabited by that doubt. — ANAïS FARINE