BAGHDAD, Iraq, Sept. 28 - In what was perhaps as much an act of defiance as a leisurely way of spending an afternoon, more than 300 Iraqis walked into a theater this past Saturday, and without metal detectors or security guards, sat down and watched a movie.
Ammar Saad captures video during the Baghdad film festival.
It was the start of Baghdad's first film festival since the American-led invasion in 2003 that toppled Saddam Hussein, a six-day event that by Wednesday evening had produced hundreds of happy Iraqis and not a single casualty. While the violence ground on in other parts of the capital, spectators of all ages packed into the theater to watch locally made short films that ranged from a documentary about sheep farmers to a feature that had eight actors, crying and laughing, entering a telephone booth one by one.
"We're trying to send a message to people outside Iraq that this is a real country, not just a hole for terrorists," said the festival's organizer, Nizar al-Rawi, a graphic designer who is president of the Contemporary Visual Arts Society here. "We have thousands of years of art and knowledge. We can establish social life here."
The venue, a children's theater in central Baghdad called the Magic Lantern, was crowded with filmmakers and artists in T-shirts and jeans. People squeezed past one another, their bodies brushing walls hung with framed pictures from old movies. Two small boys poured water from pitchers into plastic cups for viewers.
Some of the 58 short films being shown are whimsical animations. Others tell tales of suffering since the American invasion. But perhaps most important, the films, which are competing for prizes worth several thousand dollars, were made exclusively by Iraqis, mostly since the fall of the Hussein government.
"When you see beautiful young people starting these brave things, you feel happy," said Mufeed Jazaery, who was culture minister during Iraq's interim government last year. "Under the surface there is a lot of life and movement that you cannot see from above."
The film industry in Iraq dates back to the 1940's, and Iraqis still have fond memories of going to the cinema with their families in the 1970's and 80's. But with the 1991 Persian Gulf war and the years of privation that followed the imposition of economic sanctions, theaters went into decline, and Iraqis fell out of the habit.
The fighting in 2003 also took its toll. The cinema at the Baghdad University film school burned down in a bombing. Looters later took much of what remained of the equipment. Of Baghdad's 11 film theaters, only a couple are in operation, said Hamoudi Jassim, a professor at the College of Fine Arts who helped organize the festival.
Festival participants seemed intent on chronicling the violence and chaos that have pressed in on their lives. The first film shown was a documentary about squatters living in a bombed-out secret police building in central Baghdad.
The filmmaker, Hadi Mahood, said that he was trying to show how Iraqis' lives are now filled with fear and pain, not entirely unlike their situation under Mr. Hussein, and that the police building, where Iraqis were tortured, symbolizes that.
"Most important is the idea to catch this time, to film it, to put it on a tape," Mr. Mahood said in an interview.
The films were an early start to this project. Some may have had poor sound and the unsteady shots that come of using a small handheld camera, but any lack of skill was more than balanced by courage and enthusiasm. Festival organizers expected about 30 films to be submitted, but in fact there were 140.
"So many subjects in Iraq are important now," said Mais al-Kair, 22, a recent graduate of the Baghdad Art Institute. "It's our duty to tell people how Iraqis are suffering."
Taking a camera in hand on the streets of Baghdad is a risky enterprise, and the filmmakers recounted experiences of having been attacked and their tapes confiscated.
The perils are set out in a documentary about the killings of Iraqi journalists made by Ammar Saad, an intense 27-year-old from an insurgent-controlled neighborhood in southern Baghdad. Mr. Saad said his film was inspired by the death in 2003 of a friend who worked for the Iraqiya television station, killed by a shot fired from an American army base in Samarra, north of Baghdad.
"Iraqi journalists are now in a critical position," Mr. Saad said. "The truth being told by the Iraqi media can really influence every side."
The title of his film, "Damn Gum," was infused with dark humor, a reference to Iraqi journalists' difficult role.
"The truth is unacceptable to people," Mr. Saad said, adding that like gum, "they can't spit it out, and they can't swallow it."
