NEWROZ FILMS

Passionate director explores Kurdistan- the colorful, ancient land of music, humor and tragedy. A witty and heartbreaking journey. A powerful anti-war film. In Kurdish w. English subtitles.

AWARDS

Winner - Gold Plaque, Chicago International Film Festival, 2002

Winner - The Francois-Chalais Prize, Cannes Film Festival 2002

Winner - Best Feature Film Award, Cervinio Film Festival, Italy, 2002

Winner – Best Feature Film - 26th Mostra International Film Festival in Sao Paulo, Brazil

Winner - SIGNIS Award for Best Film at the IV DeHumalc Human Rights Film Festival in Buenos Aires

Winner - DeHumalc Prize at the IV DeHumalc Human Rights Film Festival in Buenos Aires.

For Professor Jamsheed Akrami's wide-ranging interview with Bahman Ghobadi, click Interview with Bahman Ghobadi

Marooned in Iraq is the latest film by Bahman Ghobadi, the director of the remarkable 'A Time for Drunken Horses'- winner of over 20 International Awards. 'Marooned....', more poetically known as 'Songs of My Motherland', is released in the USA on April 25th.

During the early days of Iraq War, this film got banned by Moslem Malaysia - caught in the Anti-War mass fervor - as "American anti-Saddam propaganda"! Since 'Marooned...' is in essence an anti-war film, let's hope it would not be banned by other Moslem and Arab governments, many of which are still celebrating Saddam as an Arab Moslem hero! Ghobadi conceived this film's scenario about three years ago, well before bin Laden's WTC attack, let alone the War on Iraq.

In Iran, the censors thought the film "too nationalistic" (i.e. "too Kurdish".) Therefore the film was only permitted limited, reluctant release without any advance publicity. See Interview with Bahman Ghobadi .>.

This striking film is a musical and humorous journey to Iraqi Kurdistan: where Saddam destroyed 5000 ancient Kurdish villages; where Saddam's Anfal genocide murdered or made to disappear at least 200,000 Kurds - including my young brother whose body was never returned; and Halabja, where 5000 innocents were murdered in less than 5 minutes.

I've seen this film three times, once on video and twice on large screen. The screening I saw during the early days of Iraq War touched me the most because of its parallel imagery and sounds of war horrors: burials, weeping widows and orphans- devastating horrors now on the other side, the Iraqi side.

Unfortunately some of the intended humor does not work. This maybe partly due to the use of inexperienced actors. But more probably, it is due to lack of editing and timing of 'comedic reactions to timely reactions' so necessary in comedy to trigger laughter. This may also explain the failure of the dark humor in Samira Makhmalbaf's otherwise fascinating surrealistic film 'Blackboards' <Blackboards>.

The music and sound track are generally exciting. But the sound of the dialogs is sometimes too harsh and too monotonous- at times to disturbing levels. Plus the motivation for the characters journey/story should have been unraveled through action rather than long, expository dialogs- which tend to bore or confuse a cinema audience. Otherwise, production design and quality -especially given the choice of shooting in isolated, rugged snowy mountains of Kurdistan- are unusually high, higher than most films from Iran and the Middle East. This is a credit to Ghobadi's fiery energy and passion to capture dramatically the untold, heart-wrenching stories of the underdog Kurds on their natural terrain, divided and landlocked by Turkey, Iran, Iraq and Syria.

There are many fascinating scenes with authentic details and ethnic colors (from brilliant, colorful costumes to ancient villages to tea houses to refugee camps) of these vital Kurds and their striking, mountainous landscape which they describe in their songs as "paradise on earth".

The mud brick-making scene of fast-working women is visually fantastic.

Another scene is remarkable: innocent school children atop a mountain cliff are told by a teacher -whom Ghobadi described as the Al Pacino of Kurdistan- about the mysterious technology of an airplane flying high in the sky; and its double role of peace and death.

The children end up cheerfully throwing their white paper planes down the snowy valley. Unbeknown to the kids, Ghobadi superimposes the terrifying sound of Iraqi MiG bomber jets that destroyed 5000 Kurdish villages....one of Ghobadi's unforgettable master touches.

The ending image usually symbolizes a film's main theme. In both Ghobadi's films - "A Time for Drunken Horses" and "Marooned..." - the last image is of a key character struggling over a barbed wire in the snow, finally risking and jumping over the artificial borders of divided Kurdistan. In "A Time..." the boy carries his deformed brother in bright yellow; and in "Marooned..." the white-haired old man carries the little orphan girl, with her green-gloved hand, over the barbed wire, the artificial border imposed by foreigners on the snowy Kurdistan mountains.

Some condescending Iranian "high brow cerebral" types who relish fashionable "spiritual" Iranian films - about the usual soft, charming subjects with pretty innocuous women clad in black and cute kids- deride "A Time for Drunken Horses" as not really "Iranian" but "Hollywoodian" !

In a way, my Persian/Iranian colleagues are right: Kurdish films underline the much more dramatic suffering of Kurds as well exposing the distinct identity and culture - including the vibrant colors and lively music- of Kurds and Kurdistan. The brilliant colors, the music, the drama and the high energy of Kurdistan in both YOL and MAROONED make many Iranian films seem slow and as if shot in cool black and white.

In fact had the Tehran Islamic censors allowed, Ghobadi's films would have shown liberal Kurdish women with their hair blowing, singing, dancing arm-in-arm, hip-to-hip, shoulder-to-shoulder with men- as they have been doing for hundreds of years before and during Islam. (Compare Kurdish women in 'Jiyan' film shot in semi-free secular Iraqi Kurdistan with their oppressed sisters in Iranian Kurdistan under Tehran's oxymoronic Islamic Republic.)

Kurds and Persians are as similar and as different as, say, the Italians and the French. No one would mistake an Italian film (or their music or food with) French's even though both nations are Latin, do share borders, have the same religion, and speak branches of the same language group- as do Persians and Kurds of Iran. For more on history and language, click <Kurds & Kurdistan> and <KurdishMedia>.

Undivided Kurdistan is about the size of France with a population of around 40 millions. Kurdistan is bigger than dozens and dozens of UN member nations. Yet Kurds are not offered a single representative at UN. Cruel fate/history has made Kurds, their culture and films a "minority side attraction."

If Kurdistan were free, artists like Ghobadi would have been going to a film school in a Kurdish capital like pre-biblical Arbil or Kremanshah (pop. 2M+) which is older than Baghdad and Tehran; or in his home town of Senneh (Sanandaj) which would have developed instead of being neglected as a "minority" city. Ghobadi would not have to be a "minority" filmmaker struggling with his diplomatic wits in the Farsi/Persian dominated Tehran to get his films made and distributed properly.

Yilmaz Guney had to express his YOL (and other films) in Turkish because Kurdish was constitutionally banned by Turkey. Miraculously he directed his chef d'oeuvre YOL Yol from inside Turkish prison, then escaped and died in exile in Paris.

Some of the striking snow scenes in "Marooned...", including a Kurdish character carrying a victim on his back, are reminiscent of YOL's similar memorable snow scenes.

As long as the legacy of past empires' artificial borders remain, Kurds and Kurdistan shall be mistreated as "a minority problem"; or at best as an "ethnic curiosity"; and their culture and films end up being, if not censored, then judged and represented by our well-meaning but insufficiently-comprehending neighbors, or worse- by condescending, if not racist, members of the supremacist nations.

In fact, the commercial title of "Marooned In Iraq" -which is inappropriate to the theme and poetic spirit of the film- is the result of such a lack of natural empathy. Distributors wanted to exploit "Iraq". So a well-meaning source suggested this cold, nautical title to Ghobadi who is not as familiar with the English language. Otherwise he, or a Kurd, would have preferred something warmer, less military, like "Songs To Iraq" closer to the original poetic title of "Songs Of My Motherland ".

Still, let history judge why both Cannes and NY film festivals chose Kiarostami's experimental but shallow "post-modernist/structuralist" film TEN over such real, higher quality films as MAROONED IN IRAQ- which, despite its silly title and for all its defects, is still a true work of the heart. For other Iranian films' reviews, click Kiarostami's "Ten" vs. Etemad's "Under The Skin Of The City".

Short Synopsis

The war with Iran is over and Saddam’s air force is now engaged in exterminating the Kurdish population. In the midst of chaos, Mirza, an aging well-known Iranian Kurdish singer, accompanied by his musician sons, Barat and Audeh, starts searching for his ex-wife Hanareh. Once the singer in a band of musicians that also included Mirza’s friend Sayyed, Hanareh left Mirza 23 years ago to marry Sayyed in Iraqi Kurdistan.

The film is the story of a nation divided and landlocked by their neighbors -of Iraq, Iran, Syria, and Turkey- who are so used to genocide wars against them and their ravages, they take it as a game and console themselves by celebrating life with their music and humor.

"Few know the Kurdistan terrain better than Ghobadi... No one possesses his mastery of cinema to record its triumphs and tragedies in all their sad yet often hilarious absurdity." —Hollywood Reporter
In the wake of the Persian Gulf War, Saddam Hussein turns his wrath and his air force loose against the Iraqi Kurds. Victimized by repeated bombings and extensive use of chemical weapons, Kurdish refugees are fleeing towards the Iranian border in droves.

The film opens in Iranian Kurdistan. Mirza, an aging well-known Kurdish singer, along with his musician sons, Barat and Audeh, are about to embark on a journey in search of his ex-wife Hanareh. Once the singer in a band of musicians that also included Mirza's friend Seyed, Hanareh left Mirza 23 years ago to marry Seyed in Iraqi Kurdistan and continue to sing there. Now, Mirza has received word that she is singing for the Kurdish refugees on the Iran-Iraq border and is in need of his help. To persuade his reluctant sons to accompany him on this perilous journey, he tells them he really did not divorce Hanareh but only claimed he did to save the family's honor. Barat, the older son, and Audeh, the younger son who says he needs to stay home to take care of his seven wives and thirteen daughters, grudgingly agree to go.

On their first stop at a Kurdish refugee camp in Iran, Mirza meets Dadeh Amin, Seyed's mother, who blames Mirza for the breakup of the group and searches in vain for a letter from her son regarding the whereabouts of Hanareh. Mirza's guide thinks she might have given the letter to their friend, a matchmaker, Mollah Ghader.

The trio finds Mollah Ghader in the hands of a local thug, being beaten for trying to marry off the girl the man loves to another man. Mirza, Barat and Audeh attempt to rescue Mollah Ghader, only to be overpowered by the thug and his gang after a brief fight. The thug forces them to sing at the girl's wedding and publicly vows to disrupt any ceremony if she is wed to anyone but him.

During a break from the wedding, Barat is drawn to the voice of a woman singing a soulful song. He falls in love with her, and immediately proposes to her. The woman asks him if he would train her to sing once they get married. Barat responds he would do so provided she sings only for him since singing is forbidden for women. Disappointed about his conservative attitude, she disappears, disregarding Barat's apologies.

Back at the wedding, the girl's father shows up and a shooting breaks out. In the ensuing frenzy that sends the crowd scurrying for cover, the trio manages to flee. It turns out that Mollah Ghader, who is now buried up to his neck by the thug, does not have the letter either.

Armed robbers disguised as local militia attack Mirza and his sons, robbing them of all their belongings, including Barat's motorbike. While hitching a ride, they meet two military cops that have been stripped of their uniforms by the robbers. Later, at a makeshift market, Barat finds his bike, now in the possession of a smuggler who claims he bought it earlier that day. Barat tries to recover his bike by force.

At a nearby teahouse, Mirza is ridiculed for his connection to Hanareh, but a tip from the teahouse's owner sets him off to look for Hanareh again. Trekking through the mountains, the trio meets a teacher describing to his students how airplanes fly. The teacher leads them into a refugee camp. Audeh, who is still burning to have a son, inquires about the availability of two young women he meets there. He tells them he would keep marrying women until one can give him a son. Admonishing him for seeking an eighth wife, they urge him to adopt orphaned boys instead. Intrigued by the idea, Audeh decides to part company with his father and brother to focus on adopting two boys.

Mirza and Barat run into a grieving crowd at the site of a newly discovered Kurdish mass grave. Barat finds the elusive singing woman mourning the death of her brother. Barat is urged by his father to stay behind to comfort her. Mirza moves on to a camp set up for women. There he learns that Seyed has died and his body has been preserved under snow to be buried by Mirza according to Seyed's wish. Now Mirza realizes why Hanareh sent for him. After burying Seyed, Mirza is eager to meet Hanareh, but is told she does not wish to be seen by Mirza since she has been disfigured and lost her voice in the chemical bombings. Hanareh, however, wants Mirza to take her little daughter Sanooreh back to Iran. The last shot of the film shows Sanooreh, whose name means border, on Mirza's back, crossing the barbed-wire border into Iran.

SONGS OF MY MOTHERLAND

Credits

Writer/ Director/ Art Director/ Producer.…………... Bahman Ghobadi

Co-Writer…………………………………………... Fariborz Kamkari
Directors of Photography…………………………….Sa’ed Nikzat, Shahriar Asadi
Editor………………………………………………. Hayedeh Safi-Yari
Music…………………………………………….….. Arsalan Komkar
Sound……………………………………………….. Hasan Zahedi/ Mahmoud Moussavi-Nejad
Sound Mix…………………………………….…….. Mohammad Haghighi
Assistant Director …………………………………... Hossein Ghana’at
Production Manager………………………………… Mohamad Reza Najafi
Special Effects………………………………………..Javad Sharifi

Script Supervisor …………………………………… Raheleh Parvin-Nia
Still Photographers………………………………….. Bahman Ghobadi/ Abedin Ali-Veissey

Cast

Shahab Ebrahimi ………….………………………… Mirza
Faegh Mohammadi ………………………………….. Barat

Allah-Morad Rashtian ……….……………………… Audeh
Rojan Hosseini……………………………………….. Rojan
Iran Ghobadi ………………………………………… Hanareh

Saeed Mohammadi ……………………………………The Teacher

Fathollah Sa’edi

Shilan Rahmani

Bahram Sarbazi

Mariam Pouyani

Hossein Rashid-Ghamat

ABOUT THE DIRECTOR

Born in 1969 in Baneh of Kurdistan in western Iran, Bahman Ghobadi experienced a tough childhood and an adolescence tarnished by the outbreak of the Iran-Iraq war. Eight devastating years of war that saw repeated Iraqi bombings of the Iranian Kurdistan claimed the lives of some of young Bahman’s relatives and left a searing imprint on his psyche.

Ghobadi’s parents separated when he was eleven and, being the elder son, he was forced to start working in order to provide for himself and his family. In his interviews, he has acknowledged the significance of this period in shaping his character:

“Most of my fondest memories date back to my childhood. Although I endured a great deal of hardship and misery as a child, my early experiences in life are so special to me that I consider my adolescence to be the best period of my life.”

In 1988, following a small job in radio, he became interested in photography, and learned how to make films by joining a group of amateur filmmakers in Sanandaj, the center of Iran’s Kurdistan Province.

In 1993, he moved to Tehran to study filmmaking, but soon abandoned formal studies to make short films on his own and work as assistant director on professional film productions. Over a span of five years, before he completed his feature debut in 2000, he made a dozen shorts. The films, mostly based on his childhood memories and set in schools, brought him numerous festival awards. His best-known short Life in Fog, was later expanded by him into his feature debut A Time for Drunken Horses, which has the distinction of being the first Iranian feature film shot in Kurdish. The film shared the Camera d’Or, as the best first film of the 2000 Cannes Film Festival with another Iranian entry, Djomeh by Hassan Yekta-Panah.

Marooned in Iraq was also shown at Cannes’ Un Certain Regard in 2002, under the original title of The Songs of My Motherland, and won The Francois-Chalais Prize.

Ghobadi, who refers to his films as humble tributes to his cultural heritage, has occasionally acted in other director’s films. In addition to the part of the unseen man in a ditch in Kiarostami’s The Wind Will Carry Us, he was also one of the two leading characters in Samira Makhmalbaf’s Kurdisrtan-set Blackboards.

FILMOGRAPHY

FEATURE

2002: Marooned in Iraq (Original Title: The Songs Of My Motherland)
2000: A Time for Drunken Horses

SHORTS

1998: Ballads of the Steppe Girl
1997: Telephone Booth
1997: Nader’s Pigeon Flew Away
1997: Life In Fog
1996: Ding
1996: Notebook Quota
1996: God's Fish
1996: Like Mother
1996: The Party
1995: That Man Came Along
1995: Again Rain Again with a Melody
1993: Private M.Hosseini
1991: Barbershop
1991: Pantol
1990: A Glance
1990: Golbaji
1989: From Another Angle

MAROONED IN IRAQ

Who are the Kurds?

“I believe film is an excellent medium for promoting a deeper awareness of the Kurds,

a 20-milion strong ethnic group living as minorities in Iran, Turkey, Iraq, and Syria.”

—Bahman Ghobadi

A non-Arab Middle Eastern nation, the Kurds’ origins date back to 600 B.C. and the reign of the Medians. Ethnically close to Persians, the Kurds are mostly Sunni Muslims, with pockets of Jewish and Christian minorities among them. There is no single Kurdish language. The various governments controlling the Kurds in several countries have always tried to assimilate them by preventing them from promoting their own language and culture. Consequently, the variety of dialects and sub-dialects has made it difficult for the Kurds of different regions to communicate with one another and develop cultural cohesion.

The Kurds are considered the largest ethnic group in the world without their own state. The current population of 30 to 40 million Kurds live on the vast plateaus and mountainous regions of Southwest Asia known as Kurdistan, which encompasses parts of Turkey (10 million Kurds), Iran (6 million), Iraq (4 million), and Syria (1 million). The constant political turmoil, resulting from suppressing the Kurdish aspirations for self-governance in an independent Kurdish state, promised to them by the Treaty of Sevres in 1920, has also displaced hundreds of thousands of Kurds to Europe and the United States.

In Turkey, until a few years ago, the Kurds were not allowed to identify themselves as Kurds. The government used to refer to them as mountain Turks. The US-aided capture of the PKK (Kurdistan’s Worker’s Party) leader three years ago brought the long hostilities between the Kurds and the Turkish military to a tenuous halt.

In Iran, where the Kurds set up a short-lived republic at the end of World War II, they live as a Sunni minority in a Shi’ite-dominated theocracy. After the Islamic Revolution in 1979, the Iranian Kurdish leaders have been targets of assassination plots carried out by the agents of the Iranian government abroad.

In Iraq, after years of violent suppression by Saddam Hussein, the Kurds are currently enjoying an autonomous existence in northern Iraq. Under the protection provided by the American imposition of a no-flight zone against Saddam’s air force, the Kurds have set up two governments with their own parliaments, media, and the freedom to teach their language and culture.

In Syria, the Kurds are suffering from limitations on their cultural rights and some are not even recognized as citizens.

****