Short synopsis
Grounded in his personal experience as a displaced person and shaped by her perspective as someone raised in rural Britain,
the film follows their unlikely friendship, reveals uplifting stories of welcome and challenges the negative media narrative.
The film invites us to stories rarely seen on screen.
Long synopsis
26-year-old Syrian filmmaker Noah has formed an unlikely friendship with Claire, a retired teacher from rural Devon. Noah was forced to flee the war in Syria after his work documenting the conflict put not only his life, but the lives of his family, in danger. A chance meeting with Claire during a community holiday for asylum seekers brought together two people from very different worlds and united them in a shared mission.
Together, they set out to challenge the fear and division that dominate discourse around refugees and asylum seekers in the UK. Travelling through Wales, England and Scotland to film refugees and asylum seekers alongside ordinary British people and communities who have chosen to welcome them, they discover an uplifting story of courage, kindness, and connection. Through Noah’s and Claire’s dual perspectives, the film gains access to stories rarely seen on screen, revealing both the realities of displacement and the warmth within communities across the UK.
Filming stories of refugees, Noah reflects on his own struggles, uncovering more about why he had to leave Syria, why he ended up in the UK, and what it has meant to try to build a new home. The film opens with an animated swallow tracing its migratory route from Africa to the UK, gently transitioning into live-action storytelling. This recurring motif becomes a visual witness to Noah and Claire’s exploration of migration and belonging.
Director's Statement
When I was 17, I became immersed in film and television, especially journalism. I documented the Syrian war, lived through displacement, and later arrived in the UK seeking safety. Over time, I learned not only how to survive, but how to belong, and eventually how to tell stories from within that experience.
A Place Called Welcome is my first documentary feature film, told from a refugee’s perspective. At its heart, the film asks: What happens after the door is opened and refugees arrive? It explores welcome not as a single gesture, but as something lived over time: shaped by shifting policy, challenged by uncertainty, and sustained by everyday acts of kindness.
I am not interested in portraying refugees as victims, symbols, or statistics. I want to show people as complex individuals navigating real lives, people rebuilding home, identity, trust, and community in unfamiliar places. By filming others as they search for belonging, I am also reflecting on my own journey.
The need to make this film now is because the public conversation around refugees is increasingly shaped by fear and division. Migration is one of the defining issues of our time, yet refugees are often reduced to numbers, threats, or burdens. This film offers another way of seeing: through real lives, real communities, and real moments of kindness.
The film is rooted in reality. Through the unfolding journeys of the people Claire and I meet, the wider context of migration, policy, legality, and public perception is gently revealed.
Insights from professionals and academics challenge common misconceptions and media narratives that overestimate the number of migrants in the UK. In fact, Britain hosts a small percent ot the world’s displaced people. Migrants are often labelled illegal, but seeking asylum is a legal right under the 1951 UN Refugee Convention.
Stylistically, A Place Called Welcome is poetic, observational, life-affirming, and uplifting. It blends intimate vérité scenes with reflective narration, symbolic imagery, natural light, and handheld cinematography.
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​The story begins with an animated swallow, Alina, tracing her migratory route from Africa to the UK. More than a visual motif, Alina becomes a quiet witness, curious, fragile, and resilient, travelling alongside Claire and Noah’s journey.
She reflects the movement, uncertainty, and hope at the heart of migration, reminding us that home is not always a fixed place but a delicate, ongoing search. The animation gently dissolves into live action, grounding the film in the physical landscapes of Britain's high streets, coastlines, cities, towns, and countryside.
The music in the film gently shapes the emotional landscape, cultivating sensitivity and compassion. Much of it is performed by refugees and asylum seekers themselves. Their songs, voices, and rhythms carry an emotional truth that words alone cannot express.
Directing while being within the story is a rare and complex experience, one not many directors face. I wasn’t only making my first feature documentary film; I also opened up my own story of displacement, using vulnerability to foster understanding and help audiences connect with the realities behind these experiences.
It’s a strange duality, both deeply vulnerable and profoundly empowering. In this cinema space, where we usually stand behind the lens, I found myself stepping through it, reflecting on my journey as I guided others’ stories, all merging into one filmic act of discovery.
For me, this film is an act of witnessing, connection, and hope. It is about what happens after arrival, after survival, and after the first welcome. It is about the long, fragile, and beautiful process of making a place feel like home. As the director of this film, I see A Place Called Welcome as a way to generate empathy and understanding around migration. Seeing through the eyes and experiences of individuals, we begin to care about those whose lives have been improved by the kindness of others.
Migration is not just a label, a policy, or a headline. Migration is older than borders themselves, and it lives within all of our stories.