DJOMEH
Reviewed by Harvey Karten New Yorker Films Director: Hassan Yektapanah Writer: Hassan Yektapanah Cast: Rashid Akbari, Mahmoud Behraznia, Mahbobeh Khalili, Jalil Nazari Screened at: The Film Forum, 209 W. Houston St., NYC 8/24/01
If you think that the Muslim world in the Middle East is one big happy family, remember the seven-year war between Iran and Iraq and the invasion of Kuwait by Saddam Hussein's Iraq. On a more personal level, think of what if must be like for the family of residents of one country if their daughter were romantically pursued by an immigrant from a brother nation. Such is the case in "Djomeh," yet another in the string of Iranian films which have graced out shores during the past few years, all eschewing the Hollywood blockbuster ethic in favor of exploring the nature of universal human emotions. Hassan Yektapanah's story, filmed by Ali Loghmani in remote Iranian mountains that in one village scene resembles a community lived in by the Flintstones, may seem distant from the lives of viewers from Beverly Hills, but carry universal emotional truths that should resonate with a thinking audience.
The story centers on the 20-year-old title character (Jalil Nazari), a shy Afghan refugee living as a dairy farmer in an outlying Iranian village with an older landsman named Habib (Rashid Akbari). Djomeh is an expatriate in part because his country is at war and in part because he had been involved in a scandalous love affair with a woman twelve years his senior. His roommate Habib is conservative, not even trying to assimilate into Iranian society and determined to head back home at the earliest opportunity. Djomeh therefore confides his hopes and dreams instead to his more open Iranian boss, the 40-year-old unmarried owner of the cows, Agha Mahmoud (Mahmoud Behraznia), whom he asks to serve as middleman to arrange a marriage with grocery-store clerk Setareh (Mahbobeh Khalili)-- who acts toward this shy suitor as though she were Silent Bob.
I don't know the political views of director Hassan Yektapanah, who is directing his first film after having been mentored by Abbas Kiarostami, but they're obviously more in line with the positions of Iranian president Mohammad Khatami than with the country's religious head Ayatollah Sayyed Ali Khamenei. In fact we'd not be stretching an analogy to say that Djomeh's boss, Mahmoud, is a stand-in for the president while the rest of the bunch would fall in with the Ayatollah. Look at what's going down in the film. Mahmoud is open and sympathetic to the young Afghan. He listens to the kid's stories about his relationship with the older widow and empathizes. He shows a willingness to be a go-between with Setareh's dad even if such a deal carries a risk for Mahmoud's reputation and his milk selling business. He is no way a Know-Nothing. He's no Patrick Buchanan, in other words. On the other hand, there's an old guy, a customer in Setareh's bodega, who pretends to be sympathetic to young Djomeh, patronizing the kid by saying that the world is for everyone, and yet contemptuously predicting that not a single Afghan refugee will return home when the war is over. Setareh opens her mouth only once to recommend a scarf, otherwise ignoring the young man completely when he talks to her. The children of the village steal Djomeh's bicycle and throw stones at him--never mind that Djomeh's a fellow Muslim.
Aside from the intriguing story of loneliness--of the insular, rejecting world--"Djomeh" is a tale visually told. There are no jump shots, there is no intrusive music needed to tell us what we should feel. There is no need for dialogue to show us just how far back in time the inhabitants of the Iranian village are as we watch Djomeh and Mahmoud weigh out the milk that is sold to the residents. The jug goes on one side, the weights on the other. Fine tuning is arranged by adding some stones to the side with the jug. A villager complains that the container has not been separately weighed. The choice is not that of the Santa Monica supermarket but, "Goat's milk or cow's"?
There's a feeling that when the people say "God is great" as they do several times a day, they know whereof they speak, because in a way, this is the kind of life that we were meant to live--not behind a computer, not inside an air-conditioned office, but out of doors, away from the pollution of cars, trucks, planes and noise. I don't think I could stand the way of life for more than six hours, but that's another story. As for the Chekhovian story of "Djomeh," it's a winner.
Not Rated. Running time: 94 minutes. (C) 2001 by Harvey Karten, film_critic@compuserve.com
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