Lebanese actor Darina Al Joundi on chaos, culture, and finding freedom through art

“I was raised between chaos and culture,” says Lebanese stage actor Darina Al Joundi, her words weighted with memory. “Two forces that, in their own way, shaped my creative lens.”

It’s a line that captures everything about the 1968-born actor, playwright, and author, someone who has lived through the noise of war and the quiet of self-discovery, and turned both into art. Culture, she explains, gave her openness and appreciation for human connection; chaos taught her curiosity, an instinct to find meaning in uncertainty. “The tension between the two still defines my work,” she says. “It’s what pushes me to look at the world from a different angle.”

Recommended For You

Shaping the future of CIS Media: Key insights from the ‘Culture.Media.Digital’ forum

Gulf Medical University’s Doctor of Veterinary Medicine Programme receives CAA approval

Watch: Shah Rukh Khan surprises chefs in a Dubai kitchen; here’s what happened

How Dubai’s luxury hotels continue to redefine hospitality

COP30: The Amazon calls for climate action

 

From her recent performance in the series Kabul to her short film Original Sin, which premiered at the London Film Festival last week, Darina’s journey has been anything but linear. She moves between theatre, film, and writing with equal devotion. She's someone who belongs to no single medium or country. “I’ve learned to carry my home within me,” she says. “I am my own home.”

In a conversation with City Times, she’s fiercely honest about freedom, her process, and about the power of transformation. Excerpts from the interview:

Did your family play any role in your career?

It was very much an intellectual role. I was fortunate to grow up in an open-minded, culturally rich family that valued curiosity and conversation. My father was always there as a guide when I needed him, but he never imposed his views on me. He trusted me to make my own decisions.

My mother, one of the earliest and most respected radio presenters in the Arab world, influenced me in a different way. She taught me the power of voice; how to speak with clarity and confidence, even down to the old trick of practising with a pencil between your teeth.

But when it came to shaping my career, the choices were entirely my own. That freedom — to decide, to experiment, and to take responsibility for my path — was the greatest gift my family gave me. They were my sounding board when I needed one, never my boundary.

You often weave personal trauma into your performances. Do you see storytelling as a form of healing, or more as a way of provoking conversation?

Neither, actually. For me, it’s simply the way I work. My process has always been rooted in improvisation, drawing from life, emotion, and instinct. It’s not about healing or provoking, but being fully present and using what you feel in the moment, including your joys, laughter, pain, and memories to build something real on stage.

Of course, when someone experiences this once, maybe in a workshop, it can feel healing. But as an actor, it’s different. It’s the foundation of our craft to use our emotions and experiences as material, while always knowing who we are and where we stand, so we don’t lose ourselves in the role.

For me, transforming my own life — the good and the difficult — into art is not therapy, but a privilege. It’s what allows me to turn every experience into growth, and every emotion into something that lives beyond me.

You’ve worked across theatre, film, and writing. Which medium feels most natural to you, and why?

Well, each one of them is its own kind of challenge. Actually, I cannot stray away from any of them. I always choose projects across all these media: film, TV, theatre, and even radio. Each of these media gives me a way to challenge myself; a way to get better. Because you must change the way you work for each of them, the way you express yourself, the way you express yourself with your body, and the feelings you convey each time. And I love all of them. I cannot choose. I always go back and forth from one to the other.

But if I had to use one quality to compare them all, it would be time. It is the most important thing in our work, and theatre gives you more time to work on your character and your role. TV gives you less time for that. You have more time with film than TV, but theatre gives you all the time you need. So, I’d say this is the only thing that makes a difference when you compare the three media. As for writing, it’s different because I’m no longer thinking as an actress when I do it. It was a big challenge for me when I started, but it actually opened another dimension in my personal and artistic life and gave me more space to express myself. So, it’s become yet another privilege for me.

Your recent role in 'Kabul' has introduced you to new audiences. What drew you to that project?

It was quite simple, really. I landed the project in a very classical way: my agent told me to audition, I got a call back and I was chosen for the role, even though I don't speak Afghani. I was really honoured. I learned the Afghani Dari dialect just for this series. It was hard work, especially since it has nothing to do with the Arabic language. So, having had to put in so much effort for the role, I was very proud of it. The script writing and the way we did the work were also very memorable to me, so I really enjoyed working on this series.

You’re listed in connection with upcoming projects such as Original Sin. Can you share anything about what audiences can expect?

Yes, there’s quite a lot happening at the moment. My short film Original Sin premiered at the London Film Festival on October 16. I’m also preparing for a new stage production in France, performed in French, which explores the lives and emotions of single mothers; it’s a story that feels both powerful and deeply human. Beyond that, I’m developing several other projects for film, television, and theatre. So over the next year or two, audiences can expect to see a wide range of new work from me across different languages and mediums.

Do you feel your creative focus is shifting more toward screen work now, or will theatre always remain your artistic home?

Honestly, I’ve never stopped moving between the two. I love the energy of theatre just as much as the intimacy of film, and I can’t imagine giving up either. Right now, I’m working on a new play, and I have a film coming out in France in a few months, along with another short film I’ll soon be shooting in Lebanon. I’m also developing my own film project and still finding time to finish a novel I’ve been writing. For me, creativity doesn’t belong to one medium. Whether it’s theatre, cinema, television, or writing, they all feed into each other. I’m always crossing between them; it’s how I stay alive as an artist.

Exile and belonging are central to your work. At this stage in your life, where do you feel most at home?

To be honest, I’ve learned to carry my home within me. I am my own home. I feel most at peace when I’m by myself; that’s where I belong. In a way, I’m always in exile, and yet never in exile, because I’ve learned to find stability inside, no matter where I am. When you grow up constantly moving, you start to see the world differently, not as a place you have to belong to, but as something you move through with a sense of your own centre.

Freedom — especially for women — is a theme you return to again and again. How do you define freedom for yourself now?

I feel that the space for freedom is shrinking everywhere, day by day, all around the world. Freedom has become, in many ways, an illusion. It’s a beautiful idea, but one that rarely exists in its pure form; it comes in different doses, in different places. For me, true freedom can only be found within myself. My work is where I reclaim it. I chose to live in a country where, through my art, I can say what I want — where my voice can exist freely.

Today, my only real space of freedom is when I’m on stage or when I’m writing. That’s when I feel completely myself - when I’m performing a role I created or expressing something deeply personal. The stage, for me, is freedom. It may be the only place left where I truly feel free.

When audiences leave your shows, what do you hope they carry with them?

I hope they leave with questions - many of them. I want my work to unsettle what people take for granted, to make them think about the simplest things they believe in. If they walk away with hundreds of questions running through their minds, questioning themselves, their choices, and the world around them, then I’ve done my job. I don’t need them to agree or to understand everything. I just want them to keep thinking.

If you could speak to your younger self in Beirut, what would you say?

“Go, girl. Keep on doing what you're doing. Do not be afraid. Keep smiling. Believe in yourself as you are doing right now.”

Beyond acting and writing, what brings you joy in your everyday life?

My friends. It's the love that I share with them, the support and the attention that they give. What gives me joy is the friends I have in life. And I'm a very lucky person to have beautiful friends all over the world. I thank life for this.

What’s the one story you haven’t told yet but still dream of putting on stage or screen?

I’ve always loved turning my dreams into reality, and right now, I’m doing exactly that. I’m finally working on the character I’ve dreamed of portraying for more than 25 years: May Ziadeh. It’s a long feature film that I’m co-writing with two of my longstanding colleagues, adapted from the novel I’d previously written about her, Prisoner of the Levant. It’s a fictional work inspired by her life and spirit. May has always fascinated me, and bringing her story to the screen feels like fulfilling a promise I made to myself long ago. Maybe when I finish this one, a new dream will appear. I’ll tell you about it when I see it.

Kabul is currently streaming on Starzplay in the UAE.

Husain Rizvi

husain@khaleejtimes.com

Husain Rizvi is a Senior Features Writer who covers entertainment and lifestyle stories and has a profound interest in tech (games) and sports. When he’s not working, you can find him at the gym, or finishing a boss fight in a video game.