And, Towards Happy Alleys

And, Toward Happy Alleys

Iranian Cinema, Jahar Panahi, And, Towards Happy Alleys, Indian Cinema, documentary
Hussain Currimbhoy

VERDICT: Indian director Sreemoyee Singh's moving documentary transcends its overly relaxed editing and sometimes dispersive focus.

Director Sreemoyee Singh fell in love with the Iranian cinema when she was a student. Then the poet Forough Farrokhzad – who is also a pioneering filmmaker – inspired her to study Farsi. She traveled to Iran several times for six years, almost like a pilgrimage, looking for her heroes and a land known only in films. Alas, filmmaker Abbas Kiarostami was seriously ill and died during her first trip, so she was not able to meet him; Foroud Farrokhzad had passed decades before. Yet, she was able meet and talk with Jahar Panahi and other filmmakers, actors, and women activists.

Iranian cinema is the documentary’s starting point. A documentary assembled as a collage of talking heads, voice-offs, street scenes, pictures, videos and songs. All shot with a hand-held camera. Singh´s devotion for Persian culture, as well as the sincerity of her approach is what makes the documentary so moving and relevant despite its almost amateur flaws.

Iranian cinema as a subject is a big endeavor for any filmmaker. But for better or worse this is not
the case with Singh. She wanted to capture the whole of Iran in the documentary, she wanted to
talk about the compulsory use of the chador, political freedom, human rights, obligatory military
service and the role of women. And that is too big a task for a novice documentarian. In some
moments there are digressions from the narrative, which could enrich the documentary, but are
only distractions. She talks about the use of the chador with two men who — surprise! — are in favor of its use. They also want “inner modesty,” going beyond covering the whole body. A very frustrating opinion, since it calls for ruling over the female mind and not just her body.

The director passes quickly to another subject: nose jobs, and how a young women receives
unsolicited recommendations for plastic surgeons on the bus. A hierarchy of issues could have
been highly beneficial to the film.

There is a missed opportunity when filmmaker Jafar Panahi talks about how he got seriously
depressed and even tried to commit suicide when the government forbade him to film. A story
that everyone would be interested to hear in more detail, especially since Panahi has been in
prison three times since Singh’s film was finished. She does not follow up the conversation,
she just shows us a scene from Panahi´s film and we are on our way to the next subject.

Iran has very constricting conditions for filming in its territory, yet some of the scattered street
scenes are interesting enough. The billboards about the army, the ever-present portraits of the
ayatollahs, chador-clad women and children riding buses give us a panorama of the situation.
Shooting in interiors could be better. A filmmaker, in the yard of his own home, says jokingly that
when he talks about a prohibited topic, his neighbors begin to use a drill. The whole
conversation was recorded while the drilling went on. Was there not another possibility, such as
filming indoors?

Sreemoyee Singh, a scholar with a Ph.D in Film Studies, received a highly valuable lesson in
practical filming from Panahi himself. When interviewing Aida Mohammadkhani, the main actor
in The White Balloon, Singh kept a medium distance and a wide shot. Panahi stands up, goes
to the camera and zooms-in to the beautiful actor so we can appreciate her completely. Yes, he is a master, and we all hope he stays out of prison and filming for good.

Director, producer, cinematography: Sreemoyee Singh
Editing: Joydip Das, Pradyatan Bera
Music: Majdy
Sound design: Anirban Borthakur
Sound Mix: Boloy Kumar Doloi
World sales: Hussain Currimbhoy, Noopur Sinha
Venue: Berlin Film Festival (Panorama)
In Farsi
70 minutes