Tuesday, 19 November 2013

Huppert: 5 Favorites


پنج فيلم برگزيدۀ ايزابل هوپر تا زمان نگارش اين مقاله براي ماهنامه 24 (فكر كنم سال 2010) به عقيدۀ من اين‌ها بودند.

ويولت نوزيه (شابرول، 1978) ويولت نوزيه
داستاني بر مبناي ماجراي واقعيِ دختري پاريسي كه در 1933 به خانواده‌اش سم خوراند. دادگاه محاكمه او  به ماجرايي جنجالي بدل شد كه يكي از دلايل آن حمايت سوررئاليست‌ها از دخترك، به‌ خاطر ريشه‌هاي ضدخانوادگي/ضد بورژوايي حركتي بود كه مرتكب شده بود. نگاه فاصله‌گيرانه شابرول، بازسازي دقيق دورۀ تاريخي و مجموعه بازي‌هاي فيلم يكي از غريب‌ترين تصاوير سينمايي از عقده‌هاي سركوب شده و انحطاط پنهان در زير آداب‌داني خرده بورژوازي را خلق كرده‌اند.

Notes on Isabelle Huppert


مروري بر كارنامۀ ايزابل هوپر
سردي بازدارنده و اشتياق مهارنشده

يكي از شگفتي‌هاي سينماي فرانسه اين‌جاست كه همه فيلم‌ها و آدم‌ها ادامۀ جرياني گسترده‌تر و ريشه‌دار در تاريخ سينماي آن كشور به نظر مي‌رسند. همواره نوعي تناسخ در فيلم‌ها و شخصيت‌هاي آن ديده مي‌شود. جايي راه از آرلتي آغاز مي‌شود. بعد ژن مورو جاي او را مي‌گيرد و ادامه همان سنت و آن زنانگي يكي از جسورترين بازيگران زن تاريخ سينما، ايزابل هوپر، را به وجود مي‌آورد.
او كه با وجود بازي در محدودۀ مشخصي از نقش‌ها، هرگز در حال تكرار خود يا ساده گرفتنِ حضورش روي پرده نبوده متولد 1953 در پاريس است. تقريباً تصادفي وارد دنياي بازيگري شده، يعني از زماني كه مادرش اسم او را در كنسرواتوار ورساي نوشت و هوپر به‌عنوان بهترين دانشجوي دورۀ خودش از آن‌جا فارغ‌التحصيل شد و پس از آن يكي دو مدرسه بازيگري ديگر را هم آزمود تا اين كه وارد دنياي تئاتر شد و زير نظر كساني مثل روبر حسين و خواهر خودش، كارولين هوپر (كه بعدها فيلم‌ساز شد و ايزابل را در ارادتمند، شارلوت كارگرداني كرد)، روي صحنه رفت.

Saturday, 16 November 2013

Notes on Uncle Jess


After reading Brad Stevens' recent homage to Jesús Franco in Sight & Sound, I write a confessing email to Mr. Stevens, expressing my agreement with him about the new turns in the relation between the spectator and the film/filmmaker, and that how as a result of such drastic shift, a more complicated, and not necessary admiring,  relationship with Jesús Franco can be fully understood and maintained.

Since my early encounter with Franco's world, I was aware of the unhealthy view on women and a comic perversity in whatever he was depicting. What I liked in Franco's longish filmography, and I still do, is the representation of architecture and I've enjoyed being taken to isolated chateaus, spooky castles and flashy modern apartments which turn into vessels of crime and lust. Of course, all the location shoot for Franco was merely a way of completing a film in the state of the low-budgetary and  the lack of elaborate sets, or in many cases, any set at all. The limitation led to an interesting use of a wide range of built spaces. (When shooting a jungle scene, quite abundant in Franco's films, it becomes simply dreadful.)

For instance, take a look at this ultra kitsch architecture from La comtesse perverse (1976). One could see such amazing examples of Mediterranean garbage only in a Franco film, and at best, the man's solemnity in relating the story to this spaces is no less than Michael Mann's or Italian masters'.

Monday, 11 November 2013

On Pegah Ahangarani


Already lionised for her 17 days' detainment for 'security charges' in 2011, the reformist Iranian actor, filmmaker and blogger has now been sentenced to 18 months of imprisonment. Read my full report for Sight & Sound here.

The clip below is from Rakhshan Bani-Etemad's Our Times (2002), Pegah's first political engagement in film:

Wednesday, 30 October 2013

Dailies#15: Road Trip, Brown to Blue

These photos are taken by me during a road trip in northern Iran, starting from Chalus, near Caspian Sea, driving up the Alborz mountain, and then descending the Haraz toward Tehran. The date is January 7, 2011.


Monday, 28 October 2013

On Bridges-Go-Around (1958)

Bridges-Go-Around (1958), made by one of the forerunner Jazz Film artists of all time, Shirley Clarke, is a short film, or more precisely two shorts in one. Composed of a series of shots from New York bridges, the film, in its first half, is edited and synced with the music of Teo Macero. For the second half, the very same images, as the first half, are repeated, but this time they are accompanied by the electronic music of Louis and Bebe Barron. So Bridges-Go-Around is a film which is played twice, but each projection, thanks to specific effects created by each musical genre, gives a distinctive impression and even the meaning of the images change and assiduously contrast/complete/comment on the other half. 

Tuesday, 22 October 2013

Journey Through Iranian Cinema with Mark Cousins


Last year I made a documentary about Iranian cinema through the refreshing eyes of Mark Cousins. A Journey Through Iranian Cinema with Mark Cousins is a small road movie about Iranian cinema and Mark's multiple journeys to my country that thanks to my good friend Mehrnaz Saeed-Vafa (and John Sinno of Typecast Films) was distributed in North America and recently was shown in two film festivals in Canada (Toronto) and the US (my favorite unvisited city, New Orleans).

Now the good news is that the film will be screened at the University of London's SOAS, on the last day of October, followed by a Q&A with me and Mark (on Skype from Scotland). I'm shy, moody and not a good talker, but I'm sure Mark has many stories to tell from his various trips to Iran and his interviews and films with and about filmmakers such as Abbas Kiarostami, Jafar Panahi, Mohsen and Samira Makhmalbaf and many more.

You would find more information on SOAS' website.

Hope to see you there!

Ehsan

Pandora's Tape: Beckett, Pinter and Cinephilia

بكت، پينتر و سينه‌فيليا
جعبۀ پاندورا

آخرين نوار كِرپ، مطالعه‌اي در حافظه، تنهايي و مرگ، عنوان نمايش‌نامه‌اي از ساموئل بكت (1958) و آخرين نقش‌آفرينيِ هرولد پينتر، به عنوان بازيگر، در مقابل دوربين تلويزيون (2006) است. پينتر نقش پيرمرد 69 ساله‌اي را بازي مي‌كند كه در روز تولدش نوارهاي صداي خودش را كه در سال‌هاي دور ضبط كرده دوباره گوش مي‌كند. نوارها را زير و رو مي‌كند. يادداشت‌هايش را كه پوستۀ سفيد كاغذشان حالا به قهوه‌اي مي‌زند اين ور و آن ور مي‌كند. سعي مي‌كند از شنيدن آن‌ها طفره برود و پشت ميز بزرگ كافكايي‌اش بي‌تحرك بماند، درست مثل ژان لويي ترنتينيانِ عشق، بعد از مرگ امانوئل ريوا. كرپ بي‌تحرك مي‌ماند، اما پخش نوارها تصاويري دردناك از گذشته را جلوي چشمش رژه مي‌برند. آن‌چه در اين نوارها ترسناك است، شور زندگي است كه حالا به خاكستر نشسته و از آن ترسناك‌تر حضور عميق و فاجعه‌بار عدم‌رضايت يا دلزدگي از خود است. كرپ 69 ساله با تحقير از كرپ 39 ساله ياد مي‌كند و در نوار صداي كرپ 39 ساله او كرپِ نوجوان ايده‌آليست و خواب‌زده را نكوهش مي‌كند.
پينتر حضوري با ابهت و بيم‌ناك در اين تله‌تئاتر دارد، شايد به خاطر ايمان و عشقش به بكت كه به قول خودش هر چه بيش‌تر اين ايرلندي دماغش را در لجن فرو مي‌كند، بيش‌تر از او سپاسگذار مي‌شود. شايد درون شخصيت كرپ اين خود پينتر باشد كه با وقوف به مرگ قريب‌الوقوعش از سرطان و در قدم‌هاي لنگ‌لنگانش حول و حوش گور با صراحتي به تلخي و بُرندگي زبانِ بكتْ زندگي‌اش و فضاي تهي و سياه عظيم پشت سرش را پيش از عزيمت به تهي و سياهِ پيش‌ِ رو مرور مي‌كند.

Thursday, 17 October 2013

Cinephilia Translated, Part 3

Hitchcock/Truffaut in Farsi: 4th edition (out of six or seven)

For the previous posts [here and here] about translating Anglo-American or French film culture in Iran, I mostly focused on journals. Now I would elaborate more on the unauthorized translation of the major and minor film books.

The rules of the game are more or less similar to those of journals. The names who make it to the translations are a combination of current trends (Slavoj Žižek), cult figures (Jean-Luc Godard) and the essential texts (David Bordwell/Kristin Thompson).

The translators are whether the per-revolutionary cinephiles, now trying to retain the memories of a cinephilic haven via written text, or a new generation of one-off, clandestine translators who are often young university graduates, showing their passion for a filmmaker or writer by translating them. The latter group always starts on its own, without having a contract or handshake with the publisher, and of course with no guarantee on publishing the finished work or passing the labyrinth of censorship.

Is there any financial motivation behind this? Based on some statistics, personal observations and conversations with those who do it, I would say no, at least, for the translator who is always the sole driving force behind this cultural reproduction. The publishing industry in any format, whether book or journal, has been one of the key victims of the post-sanction Iran, if not mentioning the ruined economy of Ahmadinejad's Iran. During the eight year of Ahmadinejad's presidency, the systematic rape of the culture was facilitated by eliminating subsidies to the cultural products. One of the first outcomes was a sudden increase in the price of paper. This affected the publishing industry to the extent that the number of book readers went down the lowest in recent history.

To make sure that the publishers are completely defeated, censor was tightened to its most suffocating in recent memory. "We specialize in art and literature," says Farkhondeh Hajizadeh, an Iranian writer and publisher, "that's exactly the area that's problematic for officials, not physics and chemistry. Our books have been either banned, or they have faced censorship after a year, or they remain suspended." [1] In addition to that, just recently, the licence of some of the publishers who had expertise in publishing film books, like Nashr-e Cheshmeh, was suspended or revoked. This new decision by censorship was similar to what happened to Jafar Panahi: it's better to dry the fountain rather than monitoring and censoring every drop of water coming out of it.