For most of us, everything we know about Afghanistan’s war with the Taliban is filtered through the lenses of TV cameras, photo reporters, Western journalists and analysts. This is the underlying weakness in our understanding that Granaz Moussavi’s tender and terrible When Pomegranates Howl (Vaght-e Chigh-e Anar) identifies and attempts to circumvent, in its account of a plucky nine-year-old boy who has been the family breadwinner ever since his father was killed. Shot with a non-pro cast of locals, mostly children, the film has a heart-of-gold protagonist and enormous authenticity. Hewad’s story has been compiled from that of many different boys and is played by a non-pro actor, blurring the confines of documentary and fiction. But its interest lies more on a documentary level than a dramatic one due to the screenplay’s tenuous narrative. After its premiere at Tokyo, it’s making the rounds of festivals before competing for a spot on the Oscar shortlist as best international film – surprisingly, and laudably, for Australia, which coproduced with Afghanistan and whose crucial role in the story is only revealed in the film’s closing minutes.
Moussavi is an Australian-Iranian writer, director and poet whose first feature film, My Tehran for Sale (2009), won kudos for its candid account of the restrictions on artistic expression in Iran. She made When Pomegranates Howl after spending four years in Afghanistan interviewing people, so one sees how strong the documentary impulse is in her work. The result, however, tends to be many incidents strung together in a weak storyline, which only comes together in the final scenes.
As we watch Hewad (played with a cocky smile and street smarts by young Arafat Faiz) push his heavy wooden cart around Kabul piled with pomegranates, notebooks, seeds and amulets against the evil eye, many of the great Iranian directors of children spring to mind. The film is billed as a tribute to Amir Naderi, who made the unforgettable monument to underprivileged childhood The Runner, and although Moussavi’s work shares his empathy, it needs to catch up on his anger and energy. Still, the power of Behrouz Badrouj’s atmospheric lighting of the steep white stone streets of Kabul transports us into another world in a way that TV news cannot.
Hewad has had to leave school to work, but with childish optimism he claims it doesn’t matter: he’s going to be a movie star. However, he instructs a younger boy, Nawid (Elham Ahmad Ayazi), to stay in school and become a dentist, so he can fix his grandmother’s teeth for free. The body of the film is a compendium of closely observed incidents: a bomb exploding at a wedding party that almost kills Hewad; the freedom of flying a kite, or watching pigeons fly in patterns above the roof of his ramshackle home high in the hills; a bloodless, beautifully lensed cock fight; colorful market scenes where Hewad wheels and deals his wares like a junior businessman. Domestically, the threat that his mother (Freshta Alimi) will be forced to marry his uncle for purposes of sustenance and protection worries him, though there is no drama scripted into the situation.
These are all fairly familiar snapshots of Kabul life, already seen in other films, but Moussavi finds a few new angles to explore that are fresh and convincing. One of these is the boy’s sale of amulets. These are believed to be remedies for an assortment of problems, from conceiving a child to building muscles. A woman customer, who is seen only as a henna-tattooed arm, orders one and in a magical scene Hewad visits a handsome old white-bearded mullah (Hashmatullah Fanayee) to pick it up.
A chance meeting with photo journalist Andrew (Andrew Quilty) raises the stakes in his hard but overall peaceful existence (obviously the film was shot before the pull-out of U.S. military forces in August this year that returned the Taliban to power.) Andrew, who seems like an all-right guy, takes the boys’ picture, inspiring a comic sequence in which Hewad and Nawid audition their friends for a role in a war movie. The crew of boys can’t hide their lack of acting experience but Quilty hits just the right note of adult seriousness, masking his emotions behind professional objectivity, until a final gesture reveals the level of his disillusionment. These are the film’s most resonant moments.
The largely Iranian crew delivers pretty impeccable work here. In addition to the cinematography, of special note is the haunting ethnic score by composer and instrumentalist Hossein Alizadeh, whose music has given Bahman Ghobadi’s films their special atmosphere.
Director, screenwriter: Granaz Moussavi
Cast: Arafat Faiz, Elha Ahmad Ayazi, Saeeda Saadat, Freshta Alimi, Andrew Quilty, Hashmatullah Fanayee, Amir Shah Talash, Ustad Din Mohammad Saqi
Producers: Baheer Wardak, Granaz Moussavi, Christine Williams, Marzieh Vafamehr
Executive producer: Shaun Miller
Cinematography: Behrouz Badrouj
Production design: Raya Nasiri
Editing: Shima Monfared
Music: Hossein Alizadeh
Sound design: Hossein Ghourchian
Production companies: Sterga Production (Afghanistan), Parvin Productions (Australia)
World sales: Iranian Independents
In Dari, English
Venue: Tallinn Black Nights Film Festival (Current Waves)
80 minutes
