| In the middle of the turbulence and suffering brought on by
the Islamic Republic of Iran and other Muslim governments, artists are flourishing.
Perhaps the political turbulence gives them the passion to tell stories that give hope and
reveal beauty in dark places. Perhaps it is the challenge of having so few resources for
moviemaking, or so few opportunities to speak out about their lives to the rest of the
world. In "the land of the free," movies are as expendable as popcorn. In the
Middle East, visionaries and artists are turning to filmmaking as a lifeline, a megaphone
with which to call upon the rest of the world.
American audiences are a hard sell for such pictures. This is partly
because the U.S. studios want to earn easy money off their own products, so they saturate
the market with their mostly mediocre work, keeping foreign films to limited engagements
in out of the way art-house theatres. But it is also due to the flawed impressions most
Americans have about the region. After all, movies have taught us that Arabs are just
bomb-toting terrorists bent on our destruction.
There is so much more to the story.
The Middle East According to American Movies
As I think back and count Middle Eastern characters I have seen on the big screen, I am
troubled to realize how many were portrayed as psychopathic villains. In Rambo-genre films I saw as a teenager, the only difference between
Nazi soldiers, Vietnamese soldiers, and Arab warriors on a jihad was the accent. Later,
American action films like True Lies and Executive Decision gave us villains that were more than
action figures; they had personalities and political agendas. We were being
conditioned—foreigners are dangerous, violent, and evil. It's what we've been trained
to expect.
The most common response to the events of September 11 was "It's
like a movie." The idea of a Middle Eastern terrorist putting a bomb on an airplane
was all too familiar. Most people know that the big screen gives us an insufficient
representation of Arabs and others. But the steady dosage of caricature that the average
American receives has angered and stirred into action those who feel slighted by the
trend.
At EthicsDaily,
Cliff Vaughn reports on action taken by Arab Americans in protest against negative
Hollywood stereotypes. He then shares perspectives from journalists and anti-defamation
activists about the effect of Hollywood on American assumptions about Arabs, and about the
struggle to give the public a fair and balanced idea after September 11.
Not all American films oversimplify the issues. More serious war films
like Three Kings,The Siege,
and last year's Black Hawk Down offer much more
realistic portrayals of American/Middle Eastern conflicts. Three
Kings explores the politics and anti-American sentiments that threw fuel on the
fire of the Gulf War. In The Siege, Middle Eastern terrorists
strike at New York, resulting in a state of martial law. The Arab-American Anti-Discrimination Committee
complained that the film would encourage Americans to accept unfair stereotypes of Arabs.
But the film was far more fair and accurate than most; at least it included among its
heroes an Arab American agent (Tony Shaloub) who offered perspective on the whole conflict
and struggled with divided sympathies. Black Hawk Down, on
the other hand, is too busy portraying realistic military endeavors to explore the
motives, minds, and hearts of the people firing back.
In a recent online discussion, critic Peter T. Chattaway pointed to more familiar
favorites, some of which you might have sitting beside the family VCR: "I
watched…Disney's Aladdin [recently] and I was
reminded of the controversy over how that film gave the villain the most obviously Semitic
features, while making the hero, his girlfriend, and her father look rather attractive or
'normal' by American standards." He adds, "I don't think the villain of that
film is made to look especially religious, so at the very least, the film cannot be called
anti-Islamic."
Chattaway lists other, older films that may have affected the
perspectives of American moviegoers: "I am reminded of the Bible epics that came out
back in the '50s and '60s. Some, like the 1956 remake of The Ten
Commandments, tried to make peace between Arabs and Israelis. Egypt is…the
villain in that story, but in his introduction to the film, Cecil B. DeMille encourages us
to think of the Pharaoh Rameses as an atheist dictator like those in the Communist states
of that period, so the film's portrayal of ancient Egypt does not really reflect on modern
Egypt in any significant way. Other films, like the 1961 King of
Kings, seem to demonize the Arabs somewhat; in that film, the cruel King Herod
the Great is introduced by the narrator as 'an Arab of the Bedouin tribe,' when in fact he
was an Edomite. Then there is 1959's Solomon and Sheba,
which may be somewhere in between."
Lawrence of Arabia, however, gives
the Arab world a fairer shake. "Arab tribal conflicts are made to look pretty
'barbaric,' sure, but there is a certain logic and code of honor to them nonetheless, and
the film never gives us any reason to assume that the Europeans are morally superior to
the Arabs, in this regard," says Chattaway. "If anything, the film encourages us
to look down on the Europeans for refusing to give the Arabs better weapons with which to
fight against the Turks. But would any of us, today, really say it's a bad idea to prevent
the Arab world from getting its hands on the most modern or destructive Western
weapons?"
Faced with such poor options, an American moviegoer will have to travel
off the beaten path to find richer, more truthful portrayals of these cultures.
Fortunately, more and more video stores are responding to the rising tide of interest and
inquiry. Most Americans should be able to find Middle Eastern titles at their local video
store.
But where to start?
The Middle East According to its Own Moviemakers
One recently acclaimed foreign title underlines the problem of the American media's
misrepresentation of Arab peoples—the recent American-made film Maryam,
directed by Ramin Serry. Set during the Iran hostage crisis, the film offers the
perspective of an Iranian American teen who must deal with the news, the negative
stereotypes, and conflicting sympathies.
Doug Cummings praises Maryam: "In
many ways, the film speaks to historical questions of identity that surely confront many
Iranians, both in America and abroad. If the film highlights one of the major world events
of modern times and its impact on American culture, it inevitably asks the question Where have we come since? Despite its unassuming style, the film
has important things to say to Americans about Iranian American life and the way
patriotism can often become a form of intimidation—a good perspective to remember
during current events. It's a thoughtful film, especially for teenagers, that should not
be missed by families seeking accessible, well-crafted movies for discussion."
To read an interview with Ramin Serry, visit Iranian.com.
* * *
At Flickerings,
the official Web site of this year's Cornerstone film festival, Mike Hertenstein offers a
close look at the outstanding wave of new films coming from Iran. (Many of these films
will be featured in a special program at the festival.) He writes,
"The rise of Iranian cinema over the past decade has been described as one of those
brief, shining moments of national cinema remembered ever after as a Golden Age, taking
its place alongside German Expressionism, French New Wave, and Italian Neo-Realism. If
this indeed is Iran's moment in the cinematic sun—and if our only considerations were
those of the greedy film buff—prudence might dictate we enjoy it while it lasts. Of
course, reasons for consideration of Iran extend beyond its film output: and even more
prudence would suggest we seize the opportunity offered by such films to get past
stereotypes employed so often and so cynically to simplify geopolitics in a confusing
world."
On another page of Flickerings,
Hertenstein gives in-depth examinations of Iran's master directors, including Dariush
Mehrjui (The Cow), Abbas Kiarostami (Close-Up, A Taste of Cherry, ABC Africa), Mohsen Makhmalbaf (Gabbeh,
Kandahar), Jafar Panahi (The
Circle, The White Balloon), Majid Majidi (The Color of Paradise, Children of Heaven).
These names may not be as familiar as Steven Spielberg, Ridley Scott, Ron Howard, and
Woody Allen, but most critics will agree that their work is often superior.
Doug Cummings (Chiaroscuro) applauds this surge in excellent Iranian art: "Iran
has a long history of art appreciation, many formidable philosophers and poets, and a
thriving film culture with many critics and magazines. In the '90s, their art cinema
experienced a New Wave and began winning many of the major awards at international
festivals. Many of those films are just now beginning to trickle into our hands. Iranian
artists and filmmakers have been challenging the theocracy and suffering for it, as
well—Tamineh Milani, for example, has been imprisoned for making her film, Two Women, and faces the death penalty. Facets Multimedia has begun
a petition…calling for her release here."
* * *
Viewers interested in visions of Middle Eastern experience beyond
America's borders have a wide variety of excellent titles to choose from. Several
Christian-media critics have been sharing summations of their favorite Iranian films and
filmmakers.
Mohsen Makhmalbaf's Kandahar is a
movie set among the Taliban. It is notable among films about the region in that Makhmalbaf
did not cast professional actors, but instead used the people he found along the way. Mike
Hertenstein offers a thorough exploration of the film at Cornerstone's Imaginarium,
calling it "a miracle of a film. Kandahar is prophetic
in more senses than just foreseeing future events. It is prophetic in the sense which that
word means also telling the truth, with power and with poetry."
"It was genuinely provocative to see the Afghani landscape and
people through Makhmalbaf's lens," writes J. Robert Parks (The Phantom
Tollbooth). "With all of the news I've seen in the last several months, the movie
Kandahar was the first time I felt like I was actually inside
Afghanistan."
Peter Chattaway calls Kandahar "a
rich portrait of trial and trouble in Afghanistan" that arrived in the U.S.
"just as Americans were searching for explanations for the terrorist attacks."
He mixes his praise with criticism, saying that the film suffers somewhat from
Makhmalbaf's insistence on using residents of Kandahar instead of a professional cast. He
says the film proves that "hiring non-actors isn't always a sign of artistic
superiority."
Critics outside the religious press had similar reactions. "The
issues raised by [Kandahar's] questions turn out to be
closely allied to those raised by war," writes Jonathan Rosenbaum (Chicago
Reader). "The widespread speculation that Afghanistan may not occupy American
attention spans for long, especially once the war on terrorism moves to a new locale or
our government announces another policy shift, only intensifies the urgency of
Afghanistan's problems, which the defeat of the Taliban in no way makes irrelevant. Thanks
to the shifting tone and manner of Kandahar, we wind up
responding in many different ways at once, and if the overall effect is still scattered,
the burden of making sense of it all—as art and as reality—reverts to us.
Considering the responsibility we've already assumed, that's as it should be."
* * *
In The Circle, director Jafar
Panahi's camera follows several Iranian women through a few hours that pass in real time
on the streets of Tehran. These women are disliked, abused, rejected, desperate, and
driven to crime. They have to keep their heads properly covered, and are deemed worthless
unless they are married. Most of the time, they are simply ignored. It is hard for an
American to imagine an environment like this.
Yet this documentary is as naturalistic as movies come. Several scenes
let the constantly moving camera roll for several minutes uninterrupted—we follow the
women down busy streets, into buildings, up stairways, through kitchens and hospitals,
without a break. But it doesn't drag. The film keeps his haunted heroines in close-up, and
yet there we're always aware of the encroaching dangers. It's a Kafka-like maze of
oppression, and there's no escape in sight.
* * *
Opening in a limited engagement across the U.S. right now is the highly
acclaimed Baran. It's the latest from the supremely
talented director Majid Majidi, whose Children of Heaven
and The Color of Paradise have become two of my
favorite films.
Jonathan Foreman (New York Post) writes,
"[Majidi's] beautiful, deceptively simple 'neo-realist' films are notable for the
honest, moving way they depict the world of work and the struggles of ordinary, 'simple'
people. [They] also tend to be faster moving and less pretentious than those by some of
his critically favored countrymen. Baran isn't quite as
powerful as [Majidi's previous films]. Yet it's a far more impressive and affecting piece
of filmmaking and storytelling than most movies put out by Hollywood this year, and
offers, as a bonus, a glimpse into a fascinating, contradictory society."
"Baran isn't a political movie, but a
love story," writes Stephanie Zacharek (Salon.com).
"At times it's almost a romantic comedy. But its very accessibility—it's
gorgeously shot and never ploddingly earnest—could make it the first Iranian film to
be widely seen by American audiences who aren't necessarily hardcore art-house denizens.
Moreover, it reflects some of the political realities in the Middle East that many
Americans are just now becoming aware of."
Mike Clark (USA Today) says, "Baran is a movie
about sacrifice, but it's also about fear; authorities often show up to ensure that the
workers are Iranian, which means the Afghans must flee in hurried exits. Even without its
topicality, Baran would be a natural audience-pleaser. The
characters are strong and accessible, and…Majidi has long established his credentials
as a visual poet."
* * *
To explore further the films of Iranian filmmakers, look for a new book
by Hamid Dabashi—Close Up: Iranian Cinema, Past, Present, Future. Doug Cummings also
refers us to an article by
Godfrey Cheshire, "one of the preeminent Western experts on Iranian movies."
As Christians, we are called to love our enemies and pray for those who
persecute us. That includes terrorists and the nations where they grow in power and
influence. We are also called to care for the poor and the suffering. That includes loving
our world-community neighbors, wherever they are struggling against poverty and
oppression. I have begun to realize that, while I find it easy to pray for faraway
nations, I know very little about them. The more I learn, the more I realize I have been
lazy and hard-hearted, happy to swallow the abbreviated information spoon-fed to me by the
evening news. Thus I discover that I am part of the problem. Jesus, his disciples, and
bold apostles like Paul offer a much different model. They marched into foreign territory
and built relationships with people of many cultures.
Movies certainly do not offer us relationships with foreign peoples.
But these Middle Eastern testimonies can offer us a first step, a truthful and informative
vision of the daily lives, pressures, trials, joys, and blessings experienced by Iranian
men and women. These films have given me a greater appreciation of my own freedom, its
fragility, and the need to use my time and freedom wisely and responsibly.
While I have been challenged, entertained, and deeply moved by some of
these films, I find that watching the news has become more difficult. As Solomon reminds
us, "With increasing wisdom comes increasing pain." That pain reminds me of
Christ's own heartbreak on the cross, as he looked out on his persecutors and said,
"Father, forgive them." It also pains me to realize the hardness and prejudice
that have existed in my own heart, provoking the plea, "Father, forgive me as
well." |
