Limelight:
Tea and tears at five o'clock
By Lubna Abdel Aziz
Small, smart, stunning and only 23, Samira Makhmalbaf has a heart as old as time itself. Her flashing dark eyes so brilliant, so deep, reflect centuries of the pain and anguish of the human race. This incredible Iranian filmmaker glowing with the radiant freshness of youth has taken France by storm, winning her second Palmarès in three years at the 2003 Cannes Film Festival. It will not be long before the rest of the world stands up and notices the skill and artistry of this tender talent.
Born in the legendary land of Persia, now Muslim Iran, where women have little or no voice, hers rings loud and clear in defence of her race, her sex, and her rights. She is a champion for all the poor, hungry, desperate, and destitute. With only three feature films to her name, she wields a strange, uncanny magic of her own for one so young. A fierce fighter for the termination of human suffering, her cinematic style reveals an eager, vivid curiosity that is a perfect marriage between reality and symbolism. That is a style that Iranian cinema is famous for and Samira Makhmalbaf is the brightest diamond amongst modern filmmakers of her country. Her first film La Pomme -- (The Apple) was made in Tehran when she was only 18 and shown at Cannes in the semi-official category "Un Certain Regard", 1998, and for it which she received several awards at various festivals. In 2000 her second film Le Tableau Noir (The Black Board) a tragic exposition of Kurdistan exiles, was not only selected for the official competition at Cannes but won the prestigious Prix Du Jury that year. And now, her third film Ë Cinq Heures De L'aprés Midi was awarded her second Prix Du Jury by the Cannes International Jury. The film is the story of generations -- a father, a daughter, and a poet. It takes place in post Taliban Afghanistan following the US campaign. The title, borrowed from Federico Garcia Llorca's poem about the death of a bull at five o'clock in the afternoon, refers to the poet in her film who mourns the death of a cow, the essence of existence. Like a tigress with velvet paws, Samira deals with the universal theme of the vast divide between generations. Young Noqreh loves her father but resents his rigidity and inflexibility, a prisoner of his own culture. She on the other hand, breathes the fresh air of a new freedom, and dreams of becoming president of Afghanistan. Every morning she wears her traditional "Burqa" (A tent covering the female figure from head to toe) and pretends to go to study the Qur'an at an Islamic School. In fact she goes to a modern school for a modern education where she is chided by her modern teacher for continuing to wear the burqa. "If I didn't", explains Noqreh, "my father would never let me come to school". "Why?"asks the teacher. "Because to him I am only a girl, and a girl to him must not learn".
So how did Samira find life in Afghanistan after the fall of the Taliban? So far, the results are minimal according to Samira -- the more things change, the more they remain the same. Certainly it is not compulsory now for women to wear the burqa in public, and certainly girls are allowed back in school to receive the education they so hunger for. They may even dream of becoming president. But, they still wear a spiritual burqa of ideas and traditions, of fears embedded for decades and decades of repression, that makes their very souls disappear.
"Democracy", explains Samira, is a slow process. "First you must cure the cancer of ignorance, poverty, and bigotry, and that takes money. No one is willing to pay the bill. Afghanistan remains a poor backward country where hunger and misery are rampant, where little or nothing has changed. As you see I am not an optimist."
She may not be an optimist, but Samira is indeed a lucky girl. She was born to renowned Iranian film director Mohsen Makhmalbaf whose film Kandahar 2001 turned the Western world on its head by exposing the horrors and inhumanity of the Taliban regime in Afghanistan. Shortly after its release at Cannes in May 2001, the tragedy of 11 September at the World Trade Centre of New York City occurred causing the demise of the Taliban. "Not only does cinema mirror society, but often precipitates and foretells future events, as did my father with Kandahar", claims his proud daughter.
A new dawn has certainly broken in Afghanistan, but the light of morning that will shed the shackles of hate and bigotry is yet to come. The obsession of the Makhmalbafs with Afghanistan is curious seeing that their own land has itself experienced decades of religious fanaticism, persecution, and turmoil. The answer may lie in the fact that it is easier to judge others with a better perspective. Perhaps again the very darkness of Afghanistan, a land without colour, pictures, music, or light moved the filmmaker who took many risks to disguise himself inorder to enter the country when no foreigners were allowed. Whatever the reasons, in film after film, this auteur/ director feels compelled to analyse, and depict the confusion and mayhem that was, or is, Afghanistan.
Samira Makhmalbaf, youngest Palmarès winner at Cannes
Iran, an ancient land of rugged terrain, snow-capped mountains and green valleys has always fancied the art of cinema. In the early 1930s film production in Tehran was restricted to some feeble comedies and insipid productions known as Filmfarsi. By 1970, a new trend had developed with a cultural objective, which was both serious and valuable, called the New Wave. Among the pioneers of the NewWave were Darwish Marjui, Bahram Bayzan, Abbas Kiorostami, and Mohsen Makhmalbaf. Major film festivals today seek Iranian films for their competitions, and go out of their way to acquire a film by a Kiorostami, or a Makhmalbaf. Iranian films create an illusory tunnel from the reality of the present to the complex intricacies of the past, a universal theme with global appeal.
Samira shares her father's passion for life through the eye of the camera. Armed with her new skills, she has carved herself a niche in Iranian cinema as well as a name in the international arena. She has broken taboos on and off screen. Her camera has examined some of the deepest concerns of the Islamic culture. In her film, she has exposed the dilemma of the young, bound by tradition, retained by fear, paralysed by oppression, and the limitations of the old, blinded by their ignorance, comfortable in their prisons, and content to move within their familiar circle. Samira has a total grasp of the miracle of the camera. She speaks eloquently of the plight of women in the Muslim world. We are enchanted by the imagery as well as the illusionary in depth, volume, and motion. We can only wonder what her camera will be able to reveal in 10, 20, or 30 years from now.
During her recent Cannes visit, Samira seemed to enjoy her Riviera romp with celebrities like Nicole Kidman, and Meg Ryan just like any other young starry -- eyed 23 year old would. But when she was called to the stage to receive her Palmarès amidst tumultuous applause, the fragile figure was demurely dressed in long black conservative gown, her ebony hair covered with a black scarf, but her face was lit up with the twinkle in her jet black eyes like stars in a moonless sky. She too clings dearly to the traditions of her culture as she looks on with hope to a brighter future.
Al-Ahram Weekly Online : 12 - 18 June 2003 (Issue No. 642)
Located at: http://weekly.ahram.org.eg/2003/642/pe2.htm