There’s flashy auteurism of the sort that baits the juries of Cannes and Berlin, and then there’s the kind of solid humanist filmmaking that Iranian cinema is so good at delivering. This is not to say it’s without cinematic artistry — it’s evident here as in most Iranian films which gain distribution in the West (not least in the films of that critical darling, Abbas Kiarostami) — but Rakhshan Bani-Etemad’s latest film exemplifies an attentiveness to the human dimension of storytelling, of just following the stories of a handful of characters over the course of 90 minutes. Which is all merely a wordy way to say that this was one of the most enjoyable films I saw at the London Film Festival. It comes on from the outset like one of those films (so popular with acolytes of Robert Altman in the 1990s) featuring multiple intersecting narratives, and though its tales do intersect, there’s no grand resolution, just the ongoing flow of human drama. One figure who recurs throughout is the video filmmaker (Habib Rezaei) who seems to hover on the edges of all the tales, though his attempts to document the world around him are frequently thwarted, whether by officious bureaucrats or unwilling participants. There are times when the proceedings seem a bit televisual (for some reason, the sequence set at a women’s shelter reminds me of a British TV play of the 1970s), but that needn’t be a bad thing, given the focus on dialogue, of people sharing with one another. There’s a real attentiveness to people’s stories, particularly of those who are powerless in different ways, and if there is something that unites all the various strands, it’s in Bani-Etemad’s clear desire to expose inequities within society, and her fascination towards people who are ordinarily marginalised. I could quite happily have watched many more such tales.
CREDITS || Director Rakhshan Bani-Etemad | Writers Rakhshan Bani-Etemad and Farid Mostafavi | Cinematographer Koohyar Kalari | Starring Habib Rezaei | Length 88 minutes