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All That's Left of You marks a powerful new chapter for Palestinian-American filmmaker Cherien Dabis, who writes, directs and stars in this multigenerational story spanning nearly 80 years of Palestinian history through the fate of a single family.
At its core, Cherien's groundbreaking film resists grand historical spectacles in favour of interior lives, showing the viewer what happens when land, home and certainty are repeatedly stripped away.
After premiering at the 2025 Sundance Film Festival, All That's Left of You has won numerous awards, such as its recent shortlisting for the Oscars' Best International Feature Film category. Although the film was not nominated for the 98th Academy Awards, which will take place in March, it still stands as a breakthrough for Palestinian storytelling on the global stage, drawing unprecedented international attention.
All That's Left of You refuses epic distance, instead anchoring history in interior lives and asking what happens when dispossession becomes an inherited condition.
The film's profile has been bolstered by the involvement of Palestinian-led film label Watermelon Pictures, as well as Javier Bardem and Mark Ruffalo as executive producers.
The New Arab speaks with Cherien Dabis to find out more about the film and its journey.
The New Arab: What are you most proud of in terms of this remarkable work?
Cherien Dabis: What makes this movie different from those before it, in terms of Palestinian cinema, is that it depicts the Nakba not as history, but as an ongoing event that continues to impact people and gets passed down from generation to generation.
And it's not a 'political movie'. History lives in and through people, shaping their identities.
For me, the film's focus is on a collective trauma that continues to shape us and influence our everyday choices. The Nakba lives in the family, shaping them over time, all the time.
Have you or the film received pushback?
I'm not one to dwell on these things. But the biggest pushback I've received is that the gatekeepers refused to distribute this film.
Within the industry, all of the major Hollywood distributors and streamers passed on us, as they do on all Palestinian films, frankly. So it's not something I think that's specific to me in this film; it's something that's a systemic problem.
In terms of the film's positive impact, what's heartening to me is the fact that many people have come to me and even said, "I identify as a Zionist, and I didn't know about all this". They came to me after watching the film, tears in their eyes, and told me it radically shifted their perspective.
That said, there's definitely a lot of hate on Instagram, which has given me pause. I just pretend that it's all from a bot, because I don't see how any real person could actually believe some of the vile things I've read. I know it's probably a mixture of bots and real people.
But I want to focus on the huge emotional impact the film is having on people who didn't know about the Nakba, or how it all began and for how long the Palestinians have suffered. The depth of the injustice.
And for people who know some of the facts, my movie immerses them in the emotional experience of what it's like to go through something like a Nakba, to live under occupation and experience such varied kinds of violence. It gives people the emotional experience of the headlines they've been reading for decades.
I'm not looking to educate. My film isn't talking about dates. It's not a documentary, or a history lesson, or preachy. It's simply immersing the audience in the experience of one family over decades and how that family is impacted by political and historical events.
Watching this film isn't like eating broccoli. There are so many flavours there; there's humour, there's tenderness, there's love. It's a love story. It's a movie about a family surviving decades of political turmoil and personal loss, and about the extraordinary will it takes to endure that.
When did the idea for this film come about?
I'm a Palestinian American who grew up in the diaspora, which means I was surrounded by people who just didn't know anything about Palestine. Since I was a kid, I always wondered why people knew so little. Why was it so hidden and so taboo to talk about?
After making my first two feature films, I felt it was time to tell the story that's been with me since childhood.
I've heard so many Nakba stories from family and friends. I've been immersed in testimony my whole life – watching how that event has shaped us, whether our parents or grandparents are survivors or not.
So I felt I wanted to tell a multi-generational family story, somewhat inspired by my own relatives. But, in particular, it was watching my father and seeing how his identity was formed by trauma and shaped over the decades.
I actually thought about the film for five years before I even started writing. I bought a notebook and handwrote ideas and dialogue, and blueprinted the entire structure.
I really wanted a long gestation period to immerse myself in different periods of Palestinian history and make conscious choices about the movie I wanted to make – and what I wanted to leave audiences with.
I knew I wanted to make a film that would immerse people in the Palestinian experience. I knew that that was really important because I grew up surrounded by headlines that were constantly dehumanising us and maligning us.
To what extent has this been a personal journey for you?
As a Palestinian, I inherited this collective trauma. The movie, in some ways, began as my desire to explore how even my own identity has been shaped by Palestine. I wanted to see how I have come to appreciate it, as well as what I'm ready to shed.
Acting in the film was not something I had decided on at the beginning. But as the project went on, it became clear to me that it was a way for me to immerse myself in the exploration in a really deep way and to channel some of my own trauma into this film, transforming it into something beneficial.
There were also some parallels between the character I played and myself, and I felt it was really interesting and right for me to take that on. I also had a very specific point of view for the character, and I knew she was walking a tightrope tonally.
I wanted her to have a very spiritual perspective, so it took me a while to realise that this interpretation would not be shared by every actor. As a result, I realised during the casting process that I needed to do this myself, and that it would just be another layer of depth.
All That's Left of You will be released theatrically in the UK and Ireland on 6 February
Sebastian Shehadi is a freelance journalist and a contributing writer at the New Statesman
Follow him on X: @seblebanon