“It Might Be Beautiful To Make A Romeo And Juliet, But I Can’t Do That When There’s A Genocide Happening”: Motaz Malhees On The Voice Of Hind Rajab 

Prevented from attending the Academy Awards because of his Palestinian citizenship, the actor is on a mission – for his performances to be seen, his message understood, and his story to be heard.

“It’s the kind of story that matters the most to me in film,” Motaz Malhees, the star of The Voice of Hind Rajab, tells me as he begins to roll a cigarette from his pouch of tobacco. Fresh from his Man About Town shoot, we’re in Hackney – the Palestinian actor’s new borough as of the previous week – sitting outside a café. We’re far from the hissing espresso machine and clattering crockery inside, instead finding ourselves caught in the thick of March’s unpredictable winds. Luckily, the 33-year-old’s rolling skills prevail. “It might be beautiful to make a Romeo and Juliet, but I can’t do that when there’s a genocide happening,” he says after taking a drag, his loose black curls now slightly windswept. “If your art isn’t going to make a change in the world, what’s the purpose of it?”

Directed by Tunisian filmmaker Kaouther Ben Hania and executive produced by a handful of Hollywood’s biggest names – including Brad Pitt, Joaquin Phoenix and Spike Lee – the docudrama tells the harrowing story of Hind Rajab, a five-year-old girl whose killing by Israeli military forces in January 2024 made headlines around the world. During her family’s attempt to flee the Tel al-Hawa area of Gaza City, their car is targeted by IDF gunfire. Alone and terrified, Rajab is left surrounded by the bloodied bodies of her dead relatives, trapped in the line of fire of an approaching Israeli tank. Her only contact with the outside world is with volunteers of the Palestinian Red Crescent, whose voices are on the other end of her deceased cousin’s phone.

The response effort – set in the confines of the humanitarian organisation’s offices – unravels over 90 minutes, as the film follows its desperate volunteers grappling against the torturously long approval process required to safely send an ambulance to rescue her. Starring a cast of Palestinian origin and, most crucially, featuring Hind’s gut-wrenching real-life voice recordings from that January afternoon, the confronting watch brazenly holds up a magnifying glass to one of the countless atrocities in what Amnesty International described as an “ongoing genocide” in Gaza, as of March 2026. 

The film’s impact has proven unignorable, earning nominations at the BAFTAs, Golden Globes, Oscars and a 23-minute, 50-second standing ovation at the Venice Film Festival – thought to be the longest applause in film festival history. Videos of an emotional Malhees holding up a photograph of Rajab to the cheering crowd garnered millions of views online. “We could feel the whole place with us,” he remembers fondly. “It made me feel like there are people out there who care.”

Malhees plays Omar Alqam, the volunteer who, alongside Rana Hassan Faqih (Saja Kilani), tries tirelessly to comfort and distract Rajab from the terror surrounding her. Portraying Alqam, he tells me earnestly, has been the honour of his life. But navigating such a responsibility – and a story so close to home – stirred up mixed emotions. 

The first, he admits, was anger. “I’d been dreaming of working with Kaouther for years, but not to make a film about the genocide as it happens in real time,” Malhees, who grew up in the Israeli-occupied city of Jenin in the West Bank, says. “Then I read the script and thought, ‘I can’t stay at home, scrolling on my phone and watching people getting killed.’ The minimum I can do is deliver a story and feel like I’m doing something.” 

The performance that followed is visceral and anguished, and has earned Malhees unanimous praise from both critics and a proud, teary Alqam. The two built a relationship before filming and still talk today. “I wanted the viewer to feel like they were in his office chair,” the self-described method actor explains, and his triumph is unequivocal. Your heart races when the phone line cuts. Your patience wears thin as Omar’s superior, Mahdi (Amer Hlehel), refuses to send an ambulance from his already dwindling fleet without authorisation, eventually causing Omar to erupt in fury. “To feel so powerless was killing me,” Malhees sighs, sharing that he often dreams of Rajab. “It sounds silly, but I convinced myself that I could save her. I would’ve done anything.” However, the finality of the reality of what happened to Rajab would quickly return, smacking him around the face. “When I act, I want to achieve things that aren’t possible in reality,” he says – marking the first, but not the last time during our conversation that his striking green eyes fill with tears. 

Before three weeks of filming commenced in Tunisia in late 2024, Ben Hania made a decision that would permeate the set with even more raw emotion: the cast would only hear Rajab’s voice for the first time as the cameras rolled. Malhees praises this choice, and the supportive atmosphere it came with – made of unlimited breaks, hugs, and the chance to stop filming for the day whenever the cast wanted. “Kaouther understood the state of our emotions and gave us full freedom, which is why you see this performance.” Despite this freedom, such emotionally arduous scenes understandably took their toll. One in particular, when Hind tells Omar she’s in the butterfly class at school, sent Malhees into a panic attack, causing him to leave the set for an hour. “My body didn’t stop shaking, and my eyes didn’t stop weeping. I couldn’t control it,” he recalls, comparing the feeling to being shot in the heart. “You can hear the tank bullets firing in the recording. It was devastating.” 

His ability to distinguish the source of a bullet – a tank, an M16 or an AK47 rifle – solely from the noise it makes isn’t one learned out of choice. It’s a result of growing up in Jenin. “The film kind of healed me. It was like someone held up a mirror and told me to deal with my childhood,” Malhees reflects. The memories of flying checkpoints and bombings are ingrained in his brain. He moved to London in 2022, but his family remain in the historical city. Once known for its sprawling olive groves, it’s now a focal point of the IDF’s Iron Wall military operation, which is thought to have displaced over 40,000 Palestinians to date. When we meet, his family is safe, but he often sees messages between his siblings asking where their children are. “It means the army has invaded the village, and if their kids are outside, they could be shot.”

For most actors, a performance by their silver screen hero inspires their love of the craft. But Malhees’s was born from tragedy. In 2002, at the age of 10, his friend Amir was shot dead by the IDF during an invasion. Left frozen and unable to speak, an opportunity to honour his friend with a play at summer camp sparked something. “I remember thinking, ‘This is how I can reach people’s hearts, by telling a story’”. Aged 16, and to the initial disappointment of his parents (who wanted him to become a doctor or engineer),  Malhees ditched high school and started attending the training arm of late filmmaker Juliano Mer-Khamis’s Freedom Theatre – a cultural resistance project established in the Jenin refugee camp in 2006. It was a trying time. Malhees skipped meals and worked long hours in the evenings, but his studies there equipped him with the tools needed to realise his ambitions. Those ambitions  – to share the stories of his people and place their cause in the spotlight – he proclaims, haven’t wavered since he was 10. It’s evident in his work in titles like 2017 short The Crossing, 2020 adventure drama 200 Metres and his time telling the story of Rajab.

Motaz Malhees is charming. He’s grounded. He emits an energy that makes those around him want to lean in. But as much as I enjoy his company, I wish that he weren’t sitting on a bench with me in East London today. He should be in Hollywood for the Academy Awards that weekend, where The Voice of Hind Rajab is nominated for Best International Film. It’s a monumental milestone for the career of any actor, but the US government’s ban on Palestinian Authority passport holders entering the country means that Malhees can’t attend. “I don’t act for awards. But why is it that everyone else who’s invited can be there?” he asks, his disappointment palpable as the subject is broached. “It reminds me of the racism in the world, how we’re viewed as less.” Undeterred by politically motivated barriers, Malhees refuses to let his power as a Palestinian actor succumb to such a bold injustice. “They can ban me physically, but my soul, what I did, will be there,” he asserts. “My art has no boundaries. There are no checkpoints. I will visit your home without physically being there.” 

In the city that buzzes around us, Malhees has built a life for himself. He’s currently filming the lead for an upcoming Channel 4 series and spends his free time practising callisthenics with his non-industry “normal” friends. He hopes to obtain UK citizenship and vows to visit every country he was once banned from when he does – a defiant exercise of the freedom he craves. Despite the heavy turns our conversation has followed, his humour and lightheartedness still shine through. Namely, the impeccable Scouse accent he whips out in the midst of expressing his hunger for more UK acting roles. The more challenging, he says, the better. 

His biggest dream is to return to his homeland and nurture a new generation of talent by building a film school – an extension of the Freedom Theatre. “I want them to look at me and say, ‘If he did this, I can too, and I can do it better than him,’” he says, his face lit up. Global stars, industry veterans, Palestinian directors – he’s already in talks with potential guest teachers, expressing his immense pride in the critical acclaim earned by so many of the latter. 

“[Their success] tells us that Palestinians are badass, and it’s because we come from a tough life,” he concludes. “But we are still writing, acting, and advocating. Nothing will stop us.” 

So much of Motaz Malhees’s life has centred around tragedy, but, crucially, he doesn’t let it define him. He’s anchored by a fervent spirit and an admirable grit. His overarching hopes for the future, he tells me, are simple. “Freedom for my people, the truth to be heard, and justice to finally be served.”

The Voice of Hind Rajab is available to watch on Digital – find out more at Altitude.film