
“Look at This Not as Reportage of an Event, But as a Metaphor”: Editor Yousef Jubeh on Khartoum

Khartoum is a poetic documentary that retraces the stories of five Sudanese refugees during the coup and outbreak of the civil war. The film, directed by Anas Saeed, Rawia Alhag, Ibrahim Snoopy Ahmad, Tomeea Mohamed Ahmed and Phil Cox, is part of the 2025 Sundance Film Festival’s World Cinema Documentary Competition.
Editor Yousef Jubeh was tasked with compiling archival material, documentary footage from Sudan and green screen studio material. Below, he talks inspiringly of Sudanese culture and history and describes a sequence in the film that, in its description, evokes Sergei Eisenstein’s Strike.
See all responses to our annual Sundance editor interviews here.
Filmmaker: How and why did you wind up being the editor of your film?
Jubeh: I heard through the Arabic UK film community that there was a new creative feature happening in Sudan and the producers were scouting for an editor with a creative mind who was “willing to travel” and knew Arabic. I was intrigued! I jumped on a call with creative director Phil Cox and, from the outset, I could tell that the language of this film would be poetic, cinematic and intimate. It was described as a film I would “enjoy watching,” and it had an emotional connection for me as well. My mother taught in Kassala, Sudan, and my father worked in Khartoum for many years. I was always fascinated and mesmerized by the stories and pictures they brought back, as well as the rich history and traditions that Sudan carries and presents. In many ways, I felt a connection to Sudan even before I met the producers. It was an open door to a new cinema that was already in my blood.
Filmmaker: What were the factors and attributes that led to your being hired for this job?
Jubeh: I believe, firstly, it was the language. Being half-Palestinian, communicating was not an issue, as Arabic is the main language spoken in Sudan. Also, I am not afraid to contribute a vision and talk directly. With a lot of potential directors involved, this was important from the start—I laid down some rules, and they had to be respected, or else chaos would ensue! It also became clear that Phil Cox and I shared similar thoughts on approach and references—films like Faya Dayi and Invisible Demons, along with a shared love for Iranian cinema. Thirdly, I had a decent understanding of Sudan’s history and a solid idea of its cultural and social makeup as a nation, and I don’t lose my head filming in a riot. In fact, that last one was probably the deal maker, as I did more than editing on this film: I was also involved in filming, sound and production work from the start. Sudan was in revolt against a coup and this film was hands-on in the street from the start. Being an editor allowed me to keep the directors focused as they shot and keep sequences in mind.
Filmmaker: In terms of advancing your film from its earliest assembly to your final cut, what were your goals as an editor?
Jubeh: The main objective was to allow the audience to get as close as possible to Khartoum through our participants—to experience the metropolis of the city, from sharing tea and coffee with the locals to the intimate moment of a father and son bathing their pigeons. It was about reminding ourselves what it feels like to lose a home and leave memories behind while also showing that resilience and hope can flourish despite loss.
We also had a cinematic approach—how much could we take out? How much dialogue could we remove? The original film before the war broke out was a series of cinematic poems across Khartoum. After the war started, everyone fled, and we had to start again in Kenya, but this time with a bigger innovative approach. So, my first assembly mixed up observational footage, green screen, interviews, ideas for animations—it was a mess!!! But the key was that our five participants appeared in every different format, so, emotionally, it was always somehow connected. As for the city of Khartoum, I wanted the audience to feel as though they had visited every quarter of the city and to leave the cinema with a thought or feeling that would stick with them. While our lives might be different, we all share common bonds—a son, a daughter, a friend, a purpose. My goal was for the audience to feel close to the people they meet throughout the film.
Filmmaker: What elements of the film did you want to enhance, or preserve, or tease out or totally reshape?
Jubeh: We wanted to enhance the color and life of Khartoum as a city reflected through its people and also take audiences into dreams and inner feelings of our participants. They fly, they ride motorbikes into the sky over pyramids, they ride lions escaping from militias. Beside dreams, it was about enhancing the reality of this city and its people—this meant sequences with Khadmallah, the tea lady, walking through Khartoum to serve tea and coffee to her clients, or moments with the street boys, Lokian and Wilson, navigating the market. We also aimed to preserve the intimate surrealism of dreamscapes and spaces while addressing the fears and experiences brought about by war and loss. Minimal cutting allowed our participants to dictate what we saw and helped us feel what they felt, capturing these moments through their eyes and their harrowing testimonies.
Filmmaker: How did you achieve these goals? What types of editing techniques, or processes, or feedback screenings allowed this work to occur?
Jubeh: The goal was to allow our participants to express how they felt and why it was important to them. Less is more. Cuts were only made when necessary to emphasize a reaction or an action. The use of sound was crucial in immersing the audience, giving them the chance to truly experience the spaces and moments depicted. Khartoum is a city of faces and characters, and we wanted to bring those people to life, capturing their personalities. Focusing on close-ups and details allowed the audience to observe and connect without needing to overthink. Music became more of a guide than a dominating element of the cut, while the participants’ voices led us through the city.
The VFX “Green Space” helped visualize where the participants were and what they felt during critical moments of war. The most challenging part was ensuring the story was clear and easy to follow. The guiding principle was: “could anyone in the world watching this film relate to these moments, and was the narrative easy to follow?” Ben Stark, who worked as the edit consultant, was instrumental in identifying the blind spots of the film. His insights helped us achieve clarity by suggesting reordering parts or removing certain sequences entirely. Just a second here and a second there—suddenly things worked.
Filmmaker: As an editor, how did you come up in the business, and what influences have affected your work?
Jubeh: I started editing while studying at Kingston University. After graduating, I worked odd jobs editing events and talking head documentaries, mainly for TV channels and news outlets. This was during the peak of the Arab Spring, which provided a lot of news and content to work with. In 2018, I landed my first long-form edit—a documentary that was over 20 minutes long. This project was a turning point for me, giving me a significant confidence boost in my abilities as an editor.
I’ve had many influences. Films that have stayed with me include The Time That Remains by Elia Suleiman and Close-Up and Taste of Cherry by Abbas Kiarostami. Classics like 12 Angry Men and Apocalypse Now have also shaped my perspective. Documentaries such as Hoop Dreams, The Imposter and The Act of Killing have been equally impactful. But most importantly, I’ve been profoundly inspired by Joe Walker. When I watched Arrival for the first time, I was fascinated by how sound became the driving force in evoking emotions and reactions. It’s a technique that continues to influence my approach to editing.
Filmmaker: What editing system did you use, and why?
Jubeh: I used Premiere Pro CC. The reason for this choice was its user-friendly and intuitive interface, which made it easier for the directors to follow the edit since they were already familiar with the software. Additionally, Premiere Pro offered better compatibility with After Effects, which we relied on for our VFX work.
Filmmaker: What was the most difficult scene to cut and why? And how did you do it?
Jubeh: The most difficult scene to cut was the revolution scene. We had hours and hours of footage and archival material to work with, but we want audiences to look at this not as reportage of an event, but as a metaphor, like a painting of a moment. Yes, we needed to explain why the revolution happened, how it unfolded, and where our participants fit into this major historical event, but actually this moment was like a repeating cycle of life over hundreds of years in Sudan. So, it was using cinematic devices, taking out sound, silence, slowing down, asking our audience to look at something and feel what they see in another way. Intercut with the revolution violence, I used the visual metaphor of a camel crushing sesame seeds into oil—an arduous, repetitive process that symbolizes Sudan’s enduring struggle to achieve its goals, no matter how long it takes or how hard it is.
Filmmaker: What role did VFX work, or compositing, or other post-production techniques play in terms of the final edit?
Jubeh: Due to the war, the team was scattered across Sudan. Some managed to leave, while others were already outside the country. Filming became too dangerous because both the army and the RSF were targeting civilians. Production had to be put on hold. The only way to share the stories of the war was through verbal testimonies and green screen work. Without it, we had no story to tell.
VFX became one of the main pillars holding the film together. It allowed our participants not only to describe their experiences during the war but also to show a more beautiful, reflective side through dreamscapes or events that occurred before the war. It was also the only space where we could see all five of our participants together, which made it easier to weave into their individual lives and narratives. This played a significant role in editing the film and giving it cohesion.
Filmmaker: Finally, now that the process is over, what new meanings has the film taken on for you?
Jubeh: Now that I can say it’s done, I look back at this crucial period in Sudan’s history and feel proud to have contributed to preserving it for future generations. It taught me that while we are fragile beings, our resilience is our greatest hope. Memories can be lost in a moment, but they can never truly be erased, and new memories can always be created.
This experience reminded me that culture and traditions shape who we are and should be celebrated rather than seen as abnormal or alien. It also gave me confidence in my ability to tell stories. I hope that people who watch this film walk away feeling closer to a place that may be geographically far away but still familiar through its people and their experiences. I hope it helps viewers see the importance of Sudan and its struggles—that its people deserve to be heard and not forgotten. I also hope it inspires more efforts to help end this brutal war, allowing people to return to their homes and rebuild both what was lost and a better future for Sudan. Ultimately, I’d like to think the film stands as a reflection of what Sudan is, a celebration of its culture, its people and its enduring spirit.
Filmmaker: What did you discover in the footage that you might not have seen initially and how does your final understanding of the film differ from the understanding that you began with?
Jubeh: I discovered that faces speak volumes. Looking into someone’s eyes long enough can evoke powerful feelings. Before this project, I might have looked at portraits and felt something, but I never truly questioned why. With Khartoum, we had so many faces. A smile or a simple conversation brought me closer to a place and deepened my appreciation for it. I found myself laughing, crying, or feeling at ease just by watching how people reacted to what was happening around them at the time.
During the green screen filming, we recorded our participants with their eyes closed. Initially, I struggled to see how this footage could be used—it didn’t seem to have a place in the timeline. At the time, the beginning of the film felt scattered and overloaded with too many elements. Eventually, we discovered a beautiful way to use those portraits to introduce our participants to the audience. Seeing them in a calm, peaceful state allowed us to focus entirely on what they were saying. Those portraits gave the story a sense of intimacy and made it easier to follow. After they appeared on screen, the participants no longer felt like strangers—they became people I truly connected with.