It’s two years to the day since the U.S. abandoned Afghanistan to the Taliban, making for a painful but appropriate world premiere for Ibrahim Nash’at’s documentary Hollywoodgate. Embedding himself for a year at a Taliban air force base, the director received extraordinary access to the Commander of the Air Force and a lieutenant on site, resulting in a chilling, narrowly-focused observational portrait of the Taliban’s methods and outlook. Those expecting a general account of Taliban atrocities should look elsewhere; Nash’at was constrained by extremely limiting restrictions, and yet within that cage, he managed to do the opposite of what the Commander wanted by showing not so much their triumphs but their inexperience, blind fanaticism and incompetence. Though significantly harmed by Volker Bertelmann’s melodramatic score, Hollywoodgate is a sobering look in the belly of the beast.
Egyptian-born Nash’at has a background as a journalist but also worked as co-editor on Under the Sky of Damascus, an experience that no doubt led to the involvement here of Talal Derki as producer and co-writer. Considerably more straightforward than that problematic film, Hollywoodgate makes clear its agenda at the start, with the director rhetorically asking in his minimal voiceover, “Between the gates of what they wanted me to show, and what I came to do, may I show what I saw?” The biggest and most unexpected takeaway of the film is that the Taliban – or rather, the ones we see at the air force base – are astoundingly unskilled and incapable of complex reasoning. Taking that as a generalization can however be problematic given that they rule the country, and underestimating their potential by representing them as dangerous but stupid threatens to turn them into a bad joke and an easy enemy to combat, when neither is the case.
Nash’at’s previous work interviewing world leaders is what attracted the high command (his Muslim background also helped), who saw in him a means to further their own propaganda. He arrived in Kabul with the strictest instructions about who and what he could film, limited to the newly appointed air force commander Malawi Mansour, and Lieutenant M.J. Mukhtar. The documentary’s title, and the greatest irony, is that the base, freshly abandoned by American troops, was called Hollywood Gate. Nash’at is there when the Taliban took it over, shooting soldiers looking with disgust at the Johnny Walker and Jagermeister still in the refrigerator and scanning the warehouse shelves filled with medicine as Mansour tells his subordinates to have doctors come for this bonanza before it all expires. In just one sign of incompetence, twelve months year later the now out-of-date medicine was still on the shelves.
Also left behind were billions of dollars’ worth of armaments, including helicopters and planes that were largely deliberately damaged before withdrawal, but some appear to be salvageable. It’s like a dream for Mansour, suddenly within reach of playing with quality weaponry after decades of poorly equipped insurgency. What becomes dramatically clear is that these men, both officers and foot soldiers, were well-adapted to underground resistance yet now that they’re in power, they haven’t the skills or knowledge to know what to do with it all. Driven by fanatical conviction tied to a bastardized form of Islam, these men have stoked their fantasies with the glories of martyrdom, but functioning as a cohesive army appears to be beyond their comprehension, and Mansour’s inability to perform simple arithmetic (made apparent in a remarkable scene) does not inspire confidence.
Of course that’s true for the viewer, not for the Taliban. For them, it’s the goal that counts, not the means. Mukhtar expresses his greatest desire: for the Americans to still be there so he can slaughter them by the hundreds before then becoming a martyr. No doubt that’s a fantasy shared by many of his colleagues, yet this is the dream of terrorists, not a capable, disciplined army nor government. It makes the viewer wonder how on earth the Taliban will manage, though anyone reading the news knows only too well that within their isolation they are managing. What’s not said here is that the Taliban’s success is largely, if not entirely, due to the West’s complete abandonment of ethics and responsibility. The alignment of the few international presences still in the country is brought home during a parade for the one-year anniversary of the takeover: the chief of protocol of the Russian embassy, the deputy ambassador of Iran, Pakistani diplomats…. They stand around, watching a battalion of suicide bombers roll by while Mansour sits proudly gazing at his helicopters and fighter planes whizz by while dreaming of Black Hawks and Steven Seagal-style testosterone-fueled exploits. Hollywood Gate indeed.
Nash’at keeps himself as inconspicuous as possible while including scenes where he’s discussed or suddenly forbidden to film, and occasionally we view his reflection, a spectral witness whose range, like a ghost haunting a specific location, is circumscribed by dictates he can’t challenge. It’s entirely understandable that he was unable to speak with average citizens and couldn’t film apart from where he was told, but what’s incomprehensible is why Nash’at allowed his straightforward images, loaded with their own power, to be hijacked by Bertelmann’s overwrought music.
Director: Ibrahim Nash’at
Written by: Ibrahim Nash’at, Talal Derki, Shane Boris
With: Malawi Mansour, M.J. Mukhtar
Producers: Talal Derki, Odessa Rae, Shane Boris
Co-producer: Ibrahim Nash’at
Executive producers: Mehmet Elbanna, Sahraa Karimi, Diane Becker, Katherine Embiricos, Jim Swartz, Susan Swartz, Melony Lewis, Adam Lewis
Cinematography: Ibrahim Nash’at
Editing: Atanas Georgiev, Marion Tuor
Music: Volker Bertelmann
Sound: Frank Kruse, Ibrahim Nash’at
Production companies: Rolling Narratives (Germany), Jouzour Film Production (Germany), Cottage M (USA), RaeFilm Studios (UK)
World sales: UTA Film Group
Venue: Venice (Out of Competition); Telluride
In Pashto, Dari, English
91 minutes
