'Stronger Than Bullets' Review: Songs of Revolution

In the years leading up to the bloody 2011 Libyan revolution, despised tyrant and all-around terrible monster Moammar Gaddafi placed a ban on Western instruments, claiming they diluted the country's culture by drawing attention from more traditional offerings. Culture is generally pretty high on the list of things to attack during systematic oppression, but this proved especially devastating to Libyan musicians who, as most of us take for granted, equate musical expression with freedom and who were subsequently forced to take their product underground. Filmmaker Matthew Millan (2011's We Win or We Die) explores the dark days following the music ban parallel to the rebel uprising through a handful of brave musicians in 2015's Stronger Than Bullets, which screens at the Center for Contemporary Arts at 3:45 pm on Saturday Dec. 10 as part of this year's Santa Fe Film Festival.

Millan cuts a wide swath through interviews, jarring wartime footage, homemade music videos and a kickass soundtrack. Dozens of musicians are featured representing countless genres, though the bulk of the story focuses on a Libyan troubadour named Masoud Buisir who wrote and sang songs on the frontlines, a Bosnian immigrant named Jasmin "Dado" Ikanovich who operated a home studio during the coup, a Libyan rapper named MC Swat who wanted to "give a voice to the voiceless" and an American-Libyan rapper named Malik L, who dropped everything in the US to reconnect with his roots.

It is intense and difficult to watch, especially since the idea of banned music seems far more dark-ages than 2000s. But even as their friends, family and peers fought and died in the streets, these heroic musicians endured, eventually creating an impressive five-story cultural center that offered everything from practice space to free studio time. Even as the tides of war shifted and the cultural center was lost, they carried on, penning revolutionary anthems, mounting public concerts and providing the resistance with both entertainment and inspiration.

Though we begin to form an almost protective reverence for their tenacity, it is ultimately hard to identify with their struggles on a personal level. It is almost unthinkable to imagine a world in which our music would be taken away—and yet they lived it, fought for it, bled for it. This is hardly a criticism, however; it's more of an indictment of our own ability to take such seemingly simple things for granted. To see Buisir on the front lines, guitar in hand and an RPG mounted to his back, belting out an anthem not just of strength and rebellion, but also of patriotism despite the brutality of the Libyan government, is to observe the true face of bravery.

Millan succeeds not only in shining a light on the unthinkable violence of the revolution and the villainous Gadaffi, but in uplifting audiences through music. He proves that which we so often forget: Without art, without music, without the people who are willing to fight and die for the things that connect us a human beings, we wouldn't have anything worth fighting for at all. Stronger Than Bullets is utterly brilliant and should be required viewing from high school classrooms to anyone with even a passing interest in music and culture. See this film immediately.

Stronger Than Bullets
Directed by Millan
With Buisir, Ikanovich, MC Swat and Malik L
Center for Contemporary Arts
NR,
88 min., subtitles

Santa Fe Reporter