In 15 Ways My Dad Almost Died, Sura Mallouh crafts an intimate yet far-reaching exploration of survival, memory, and the unexpected ways humour can bridge generational gaps. What begins as a playful recounting of a father’s improbable brushes with death deepens into a stirring confrontation with historical erasure and collective trauma.
Filipina-Canadian comedian Alia Rasul serves as both the narrator and guide to the wild anecdotes of her father Amroussi, spinning his life into a patchwork of comedy and near-misses. The film begins on a playful note, introducing us to Rasul’s knack for transforming life’s absurdities into comedy. Her first joke—brought to life with archival footage—centres on her father’s love for karaoke, which bordered on competition with his own daughter. Unfortunately, this passion resulted in a heart attack, triggered by his ill-fated attempt to hit the high notes of Hoobastank’s “The Reason.”
Alia’s response to her crying mother: “But did he hit the high notes, though?”
It’s a moment that perfectly captures the humour and tragedy woven throughout their family history. When Amroussi suggests she mine more stories like that for her stand-up routines, it sets the stage for a journey that unearths far deeper truths than either of them had anticipated.
15 Ways is made up of the absurdity of Amroussi’s recollections. As a child, he accidentally impaled himself on a speared gate while sneaking back home late to avoid his grandfather’s wrath. Years later, he narrowly avoided the collapse of a hotel bathroom ceiling. But amidst these quirky anecdotes comes an account that shifts the entire mood: the moment he almost stepped on a landmine during the Siege of Jolo in 1974. Suddenly, the levity gives way to something far more sobering.
The siege, a forgotten tragedy of the Philippines’ martial law era under dictator Ferdinand Marcos, saw the destruction of Jolo, Sulu, as the government responded to the Moro National Liberation Front’s (MNLF) independence efforts with overwhelming military force. What followed was the near annihilation of Jolo’s people, culture, and economy, leaving survivors like Amroussi with memories too painful to share and histories too often ignored.
Animation serves as a brilliant tool in Mallouh’s hands to convey these vivid narratives. Early on, the visuals feel playful and almost childlike, perfectly mirroring Amroussi’s dry humour. But when the narrative pivots to Jolo, the animation style becomes darker and more detailed, reflecting the gravity of his experiences. This artistic shift underscores the weight of Amroussi’s memories without veering into heavy-handedness.
Rasul’s growing awareness of her father’s history gives the film its emotional core. In one key moment, she asks why she’s only learning about the siege now, to which Amroussi admits that he likely suppressed the memories to protect himself from the pain. Even so, the filmmakers also don’t spare broader systemic forces. When Rasul contacts the Armed Forces of the Philippines for records, she’s told that they have no information about the siege. On the other hand, her conversation with historian Agnes Aliman reveals that many details remain classified—a frustrating reality of how history is often buried rather than preserved.
For viewers unfamiliar with the Siege of Jolo, this segment lands with the weight of revelation. Yet the film doesn’t linger long on the history itself. Clocking in at under 20 minutes, 15 Ways opts for brevity, leaving some aspects of the story unexplored. This short runtime limits what could have been a more impactful story, especially given the gravity of its subject matter. As someone familiar with this history, thanks to childhood stories from my father, I found myself wishing for more—more context, more voices, more space to unpack the layers of trauma and survival.
That said, the film’s restraint has its own power. By focusing on the father-daughter dynamic, 15 Ways avoids becoming a straightforward historical account. Instead, it frames the past as deeply personal, embedded in the lives of those who lived it. Amroussi’s advice to his daughter when she laments that she doesn’t know how to start fighting back the forces trying to erase this dark chapter in Philippine history—“You can do it in your way”—is a testament to this approach. Rasul, a comedian, doesn’t shy away from using humour as her weapon of choice, proving that “fighting back” can take many forms, with storytelling being one of them.
15 Ways My Dad Almost Died ultimately succeeds in opening a door to a hidden chapter of history while honouring the resilience of those who lived through it. In an era where cultural erasure remains a pressing issue, the documentary short feels both timely and necessary. Mallouh’s and Rasul’s collaboration not only sheds light on a forgotten tragedy, but it also reminds us of the importance of holding onto stories that others might prefer to silence.