IN WHICH JAFAR PANAHI CREATES A NEW ART FORM... "THIS IS NOT A FILM"

Ok, so you guys know about Jafar Panahi, right? He is one of the most successful and talented directors Iran has produced in our century. He’s in a tad bit of trouble right now…  See, Penahi is one of the large group of educated Iranians who are against what the current regime is doing. And he is vocal about it. For this reason, he has been prosecuted and his sentence was 6 years in prison and a 20 year ban on making films, writing scripts or giving interviews. Having been “shut down” a third of the way through the production of his latest film, at the time of the production of this… Let’s call it a documentary for now, he is in his home in Tehran awaiting the decision for his appeal. Panahi, not content with just throwing up his hands and giving up, made the documentary. It was then smuggled out of Iran on an I-phone hidden in a cake, just in time for the Cannes Film Festival.  I mean,  that smuggling story alone deserves a movie made about it I reckon, but I guess that’s for another time and place. Now, it’s a tad bit hard to describe, but let’s try and focus on the actual thing that was smuggled for now.

Panahi is, in essence, stuck in his home in Tehran. He cannot work… Or can he? He first starts off by trying to film himself. That doesn’t work. So he reaches out to a personal friend and documentary film maker, Mojtaba Mitrahmahsb… From this effort emerges… Well, something. The DVD sleeve calls it a “new art form”. I have a feeling they may be right. Penahi, seemingly while he is doing little more than freestyling to the camera, asks a key question : “If you can tell a film, why should you film it?” Penahi starts off by telling us, scene by scene, the film he was interrupted doing.  It is strange, haunting and fascinating to watch as Penahi uses masking tape to mark off rooms on his living room floor and acts out key moments… After all, he cannot film or write scripts. There’s nothing in the court decision about not reading a script that is already written. But anyway, from there, he branches off into a philosophical debate, flashbacks of other films and, perversely, a very strange encounter with the janitor that Penahi films on the spur of the moment… I don’t know… You really have to see it to understand it properly.

Government censorship is a terrible thing at the best of times. I mean, I understand the need for control but in countries such as Iran, this “control” has spilled over into violations of the right to speak freely long, long ago. Throughout history though in most countries where artists have had to content with serious government pressure while they work a lot of ingenuity comes into play. Artists often take the censure and use it as an extra challenge to produce something extraordinary that still portrays the message they want to give. Penahi has achieved this with this particular project and it is this spirit I admire more than anything else. Having been forbidden to film, to write and to even talk about it in an official capacity, his immediate response is to start a project that fits all this criteria – so it is not a film – and yet… It may not be a film but it definitely is something darn similar… I mean, ask the Cannes Film Festival if you don’t believe me. Having been smuggled there the film made it into the official selection. No matter what you call it, film, documentary, installation, interview… It is a wonderful piece of work that demonstrates that even in the face of the most horrific oppression the human spirit will always find a way to fight back. Not necessarily with sticks and stones; but with thoughts, messages and art… I mean, at the end of the day, who needs sticks and stones? A well placed discussion is infinitely more dangerous to censorship… But that, as they say, is another story…  

HOLD ME "LIKE SOMEONE IN LOVE"

There are a few directors out around there who you know will always surprise you. Others have a certain style. They “do” a certain type of film, they have their little trademarks. Others, you just know will have a trick or two up their sleeve. And irrelevant of what particularly they will “do” in any given work, you know it will be brilliant. Kiarostami is just such a director in my eyes. I know that when I watch his films, no matter what “the details” I know it will be brilliant. I know it will grab me by the heartstrings. That is why, when a dear friend (who I have recently discovered is in London) proposed we go to see it, I jumped at the chance. I hadn’t even read the blurb (which is rare for me, but it happens).

Like Someone in Love starts at a bar. Akiko, a university student, is being persuaded by the manager of a bar to spend the night with “a very important customer”. This is no out of the ordinary request for Akiko as, unbeknown to her family; she has been leading the double life of student and prostitute for a while. Apart from her rather unusual side line Akiko pretty much has the worries and concerns of a normal university student. Exams, guys… Her boyfriend wants to marry her, and this could be considered a good thing but he is rather jealous… Anyway, Akiko sets off to meet this “very important client”, an older gentleman of some import as far as the bar tender is concerned, expecting a night like any other. The client however, is not quite the kind of person Akiko is used to… And he will have a deeper impact on her life than she initially realizes.

I don’t know how to begin describing this one to you. Stylistically speaking, it is quite a typical Kiarostami. Speech is kept to the bare essentials, but when it is used, it is used eloquently and with sometimes heart-rending expression. There are long silences and a lot of the action is centred around cars, traffic and driving, something I have noticed about Persian cinema – or at least the few films I have watched – but I have no idea why that would be, there’s a cultural research project in there somewhere, but maybe next time… But anyway. If you are not used to Kiarostami’s rather particular style – and minimalist films – it will take a bit of getting used to. But I personally reckon it is very much worth acquiring the taste for it.

What is beautiful about this film is that is one of the best examples I know of taking a story that looks pretty local but that, in reality, speaks of universal themes. I was discussing this later on with my friend, and if you think about it the story could just as well be transposed to a much more Middle Eastern setting, Iran or even Turkey.  I mean, where I come from the story of the young ingénue fresh from the village who is corrupted by the big city and forced into a life of prostitution was once almost a staple. Partners are, of course, incredibly jealous in these films and I’m not sure how well the character of the boyfriend fits in with Japanese stereotypical characters but he sure as heck fits in with Middle Easter ones. And the funny thing is, and herein lies Kiarostami’s talent, it does not seem “off” at all. This is possibly a testament to the fact that human emotion is a lot more universal than we may (or may not) like to think. Loneliness is the theme in this one. You will immediately think of the old man, and I must say he does deserve a mention. I don’t want to give away too much about him but he is the character that stuck with me the most, for the longest time after the film. As you can imagine his loneliness is at the forefront but when you look at it more closely, all the characters are quite lonely in some way. There is a constant sense of distance, of being cut off. People being physically near enough to touch but actually a world away. And isn’t that just a bit the way modern life in the big city is sometimes? Hey, it just occurred to me… The cars. Think of a traffic jam. There you are, stuck in your car, sharing a frustration with tens of other drivers around you. You are united in your sense of urgency, your boredom of the situation and the will to get out of there as soon as possible. You share a moment and not few emotions, you seem united – you are after all “the traffic jam”. Yet, everyone is in their own little world, their own little bubble. And you know that once the traffic starts going again it will be every man for himself again…

I never said the film was a happy one. I can guarantee it’s kind of brilliant though. You really, really should give it a spin.