REFLECTIONS ON PEACE AND CINEMA

Today marks the International Day of Peace, and yet, I find myself questioning what that even means. Nowadays, it feels like the world is falling apart around us. Wars rage in front of our eyes, genocides unfold while we scroll on our phones, entire communities are displaced, and the climate spirals further out of control. Injustice doesn’t just exist “out there” - it hits our screens daily, in a relentless stream of images and stories that leave our hearts heavy and our minds restless. And so, I wonder: how can we talk about peace when so much suffering is happening in front of us?

When I joined WOW in 2021, I was happy and proud to be part of a team whose goal wasn't just to screen films. For us, a film festival is never neutral. It’s a space to challenge, to question, to amplify voices often silenced, and to confront the realities the world prefers we ignore. Every film we show, every discussion we host, every campaign we support is a deliberate act: an act of witnessing, of solidarity, of resistance.

Running a film festival in a world like this is both an act of hope and an act of resistance. There’s something sacred in seeing strangers sit together in a cinema, collectively breathing, reacting, reflecting. For me and our team, these moments have become a kind of soul-cleansing practice, a chance to feel part of a community that refuses to look away, that refuses to normalise injustice, that insists on solidarity.

Through WOW, I’ve learned that cinema has a power textbooks can’t replicate. Films allow us to step into someone else’s world, to feel the weight of another’s struggles, to experience resilience and courage in ways that statistics and headlines cannot convey. They make visible what is often invisible: the daily lives under occupation, the slow violence of environmental destruction, the quiet defiance of activists, the heartbreak of families torn apart. And by showing these stories, by being vocal about injustice, we refuse complicity. We use the festival as a platform to speak truth, to demand attention, and to foster empathy, not as a luxury, but as a necessity.

We see how small acts like sharing a story, asking a question, or simply listening, ripple outward. This October, our Ecosinema event in Aberystwyth will be one of those acts: a small but meaningful effort of ours. It will be a space to gather, reflect, and connect. To sit together, share stories, and remember that even in a world where despair feels overwhelming, community, conversation, and courage are our tools for survival.

Peace, I’ve come to believe, is not the absence of conflict; it is the presence of justice, of empathy, of relentless engagement. And sometimes, that practice begins in a cinema, with a shared story, with the courage to feel together. Because peace and the cinema we want to champion are not passive; they are active, and they are radical.

On a day like today, when I reflect on what peace truly means, I am grateful for those moments of connection, for the courage of storytellers, for the conversations that challenge us, and for the quiet hope that grows each time we gather, watch, and listen together.

Peace may be elusive, but it is in these small acts, these shared experiences that it begins. And I feel fortunate to witness, every day, how the work our communities do helps us take those steps toward it.

—Annita Nitsaidou, Festival Director