Monday, November 20, 2006

Borat

Screenplay by Sacha Baron Cohen.

I heard Sasha Baron Cohen’s mother was of Jewish Persian origin, so I went to see his movie to find out what this "son of Persia" has accomplished. I was instantly struck by how familiar the main character seemed. The disarmingly innocent ignoramus lost in a civilization with a superior attitude took me back to all the Tork jokes I grew up with.

Tork jokes are a form of bragging, an insecure boasting of the Persian cultural dominance. During the centuries that Turkic speaking people held military and executive power in Persia, the Persian speakers consoled themselves with the notion that they were the dominant wit. Here’s a common recipe for a Tork joke: One savvy Persian observer, one illiterate village Tork, throw in a situation, gloat until funny. Borat replaces the savvy Persian observer with the American movie audience--who seem to enjoy laughing at Khazakhs even more than Persians like to make fun of Torks. But what consolation is the American audience seeking? Why did they pay 68 million dollars at the box office to be disgusted into laughter by Borat’s exotic toilet habits, guiltless sexuality, and overly libidinous courtship behavior?

The answer is partly in the cake Cohen has, and partly in the cake Cohen eats. In a commercially brilliant sleight of hand this artist panders shamelessly to America’s post 9-11 xenophobic arrogance, and at the same time delivers a scathing commentary on the nation’s imbecilic state of mind. While we lounge in our theatre seats complacently laughing at the loose morals and crude anti-Semitism of a clueless semi-Islamic character, we are also led to ask whether that last superior laugh isn’t really on us. In one scene Cohen --who does not let his film subjects know he is really an actor--returns to the dining room holding his excrement in a plastic bag, asking what he should do with it. The victim of this Candid Camera joke is a polite Southern hostess who recovers gracefully, and to my great admiration, shows Borat how civilized people use the toilet. So far this is America the beautiful. But later during the party when Borat’s after-dinner guest turns out to be an African-American call girl, Borat is thrown out of the house, along with his guest. Tolerance has limits.

Based on audience response, if I were to divide Borat’s 68 million dollar early box office take between distinct camps of Borat aficionados, this would be my guess,
Brilliant commentary on American hypocrisy : $10 million
I live in the greatest country in the world; supersize my sex and scatology jokes: $58million

As a member of the smaller group, the funniest scene for me was when thousands of rodeo fans held their right hands over their hearts while Borat performed Khazakhstan’s “national anthem” to the tune of “The Star Spangled Banner.” All the time Borat bleated the fake words to this petty and childishly belligerent “national anthem,” the camera panned the proud faces of American patriots who still cheer as their president continues to shred their constitution, desecrate their bill of rights, and disgrace their country in the eyes of the world. This gag made me chuckle more cathartically than any bad Persian joke about how dumb Torks can get

Saturday, November 18, 2006

UCLA Taser Incident

On reading the news of an Iranian-American student being tasered by UCLA campus police, I checked the yahoo message board for public reaction.

Here’s a tally:

KarlwithaK2002 said, “It was probably a N!gger, huh? Or a damned Muslim bastard-why are we letting these bastards into the country?” Karlwithak2002 received a recommendation from yahoo news readers for his comment.

Fuad98 also collected a recommendation with his, “They should have shot the motherfu*r!”

Thebrink2003 (musician according to his yahoo profile) wrote, “This nut job could have had a gun and killed the cops[;] they should have shot him with a sniper rifle at some safe distance. Suicide bombers like him kill loads of people every day all over the world!!!!” Though more informative than KarlwithaK2002 and Fuad98, this writer tied with his competitors for the single recommendation they each received. Losers all of them, because Scoutman1712, has so far collected an astonishing 20 recommendations for a clever piece of writing connecting the UCLA incident to terrorist activities from 1968 to present.

Scoutman1712
, who according to his profile, likes camping and hiking and whose favorite quote is “No man stands so tall as when he stoops to help a boy,” appears to be a Boy Scout supporter and a pillar of his community. His commentary is in the form of a long multiple choice quiz which include question like:

In 1979, the US embassy in Iran was taken over by :

a. Lost Norwegians
b. Elvis
c. A tour bus full of 80 year old women.
d. A Muslim male extremist between the ages of 17 and 40.


On 9/11/01, four airliners were hijacked…Thousands of people were killed by:
a. Bugs Bunny…
b. The Supreme Court of Florida
c. Mr. Bean
d. A Muslim male extremist between the ages of 17 and 40.

and so on for a list of 13 questions all ending in "d. A Muslim male extremist between the ages of 17 and 40"

A few voices on the message board do condemn the use of excessive force by the UCLA police, but the tone of the discussion is overwhelmingly xenophobic.

As an educated minority, Iranian-Americans understand the urgency of spending more effort on community outreach and on the education of the general American public about ourselves. On the other hand, we also understand that if this humiliation of an Iranian-American student goes unchallenged, it will weaken our position in American society, leading to more such incidents. A collective response is appropriate. Unfortunately marches, and protests are not as effective as they used to be in the sixties. The media doesn’t give protests much attention, and when there is coverage, the tendency is to cast the protestors in a violent light, particularly if the protestors have an Islamic connection.

The way around this is to exert the Iranian-American influence in quieter ways. For example, our writers and journalists must tenaciously follow up on the story with engaging and informative articles, keeping the public interested in the case. This incident must not be allowed to fade in our minds until all questions are answered and everyone responsible for the events is held fully accountable.

Not respecting the law had its cost for young Mostafa Tabatabainejad, but mistreating him so brutally must have its own consequences. The repeated use of a taser gun on a member of our peaceful community deserves a stinging response. Iranian-Americans have no use for electric shock devices, but the rank and file of UCLA police must be conditioned to learn that our political sting is as much to be feared.

Sunday, November 05, 2006

Children of Heaven

Directed by Majid Majidi

This movie was produced by Iran’s Institute for the Intellectual Development of Children and Young Adults, an important fact for the Western viewer to keep in mind. Children of Heaven is a charming fable that teaches us how to be good Iranians. Paradoxically, its simple plot also reveals the tragedies that befall those who learn their lesson too well. The gentleness, compassion, honesty and courage that the narrative so ably demonstrates give rise to the protagonists' questionable act of forbearance: their noble resolve not to burden authority figures with their problem.

Through no fault of his, nine-year-old Ali loses his little sister’s shoes while on an errand to have them mended. He worries less about punishment than the reason for it. His family is in terrible financial straits, rent is five months overdue, and his mother is sick. Ali is concerned that another piece of bad news could break his father. The only person who needs to know about the shoes is his little sister. Those were, after all, her only shoes. How is she supposed to go to school?

Ali’s father likes to yell a lot, but we soon realize that he is a gentle and impeccably honest soul who truly loves his family. Most of his blustering is directed at his sick wife for not taking it easy; he saves the rest of his voice for Ali for not helping his mother enough. In his quieter moments he likes to dream about what jobs he could do to make life better for his family. The father is so honest that he drinks his tea without lump sugar—which he can’t afford-- even as he is chopping up a mountain of lump sugar belonging to the mosque.

The mother of the family is an angel of forbearance and charity. Though she has been ordered not to work, we learn she tried to wash the family rug--an exhausting task even for a healthy person. The tiny living room, which also serves as the family bedroom, TV room, children’s study, tool shed, and kitchen, is orderly and spotless. Despite her poverty she feels she has enough to send a bowl of soup now and then to an elderly neighbor.

Ali and his sister Zahra cannot bear to saddle their hard working parents with yet one more burden. So they scheme to share Ali’s dilapidated sneakers until a solution presents itself. Since they go to school in different shifts, little Zahra wears the sneakers to school first, then runs out in a flopping rush to pass them on to her anxiously waiting brother.

Director Majid Majidi does not paint a picture of poverty, he depicts need and healthy struggle. Poverty is lonely and despairing, while need encourages cooperation and innovation. To solve the problem of having only one pair of shoes, brother and sister team up in a beautifully coordinated relay. It is only later--when the camera takes us to an affluent neighborhood where Ali’s father has found a job--that we encounter loneliness in the midst of plenty. There, a young boy living in a mansion with his grandfather begs Ali to play with him. As father and son enter the mansion, reeking of struggle and eager sweat, we feel sorry for the isolated residents of these marbled mausoleums.

Ali’s neighborhood, on the other hand, is teeming with activity. In the sun baked, clay and brick alleys, the vegetable seller separates his potatoes into fat ones that he can sell to his credit worthy customers, and scrawny ones for which he may not get paid for a long time. The cobbler is busy with shoes he has mended over and over again. A mother unravels the yarn from an old sweater to knit a new one for her newborn. The daughter of the blind knick-knack seller plays hide and seek with her father, while another door-to-door junk trader swaps a used plastic colander for a pair of worn shoes. Kids play soccer in alleys much narrower than the distance between goal posts, and grown men cry over their tea while the mullah recites a passion play in the mosque.

Yet, despite being surrounded by a spiritually prosperous community, Ali and Zahra refrain from sharing their problem. This bit of martyrdom, likely lauded by Iran’s Institute for the Intellectual Development of Children and Young Adults, fits the overly considerate spirit of Iran’s ideal culture. These children, like the other denizens of these alleys, wish to lighten the collective load, not add to it. They are children of heaven, after all. Why should their parents have to suffer for the loss of the shoes? Here we start to see the tragic contradictions in the commendable principles of Iranian social interactions.

Saying that his mother is ill, Ali declines his teammates’ invitation to play in an upcoming soccer match. As he is the best runner in the neighborhood, this is a huge let down for the team. If he had let his teammates know of his shoe problem, the plot could have taken the direction where the team cooperates in getting the family a new pair of shoes. A win-win situation. As it is, they were not given the opportunity. If Ali had let his school master know why he was late to school every day, the school could have devised a solution. Instead, the school master was put in a position of almost expelling a desperate child. The toll on his conscience would have been great.

Zahra’s secretiveness is even more frustrating. She finds out that one of her schoolmates is wearing her lost shoes. She does not accuse the schoolmate of theft, a praiseworthy postponing of judgment. On the other hand, Zahra keeps this schoolmate completely in the dark about a situation the girl has a right to know about. The tragedy here is that the friendship that could have formed between these two as a result of the mix-up would have been much stronger if Zahra had shared her thoughts. As it was, this schoolgirl remains a charity case, no more. Majdi does not present this as a loss. The audience admires Zahra for keeping quiet, reinforcing the dubious notion that compassion trumps sorting things out.

After numerous episodes of annoying non-communication, Ali discovers that third prize in a long distance running event is a pair of shoes. With the help of a kindly gym teacher—in whom he does not confide—Ali sets out to win third place in the contest.

Children of Heaven was nominated for an Oscar in 1999—Life is Beautiful, another movie in praise of well intentioned subterfuge, won that year. Children has captured high honors across the globe from Singapore to Finland to Canada. In Iran, the film won best film, best director, best screenplay (and oddly, best makeup artist!). These awards and numerous rave reviews are swept away by the display of friendship, persistence, love and trust as brother and sister get their arms around a problem apparently too big for them. The characters and their problems certainly have universal appeal, but I found most of the value of this movie in what it illuminates about the peculiarities of the Iranian psyche. The Iranian respect for uncomplaining forbearance derives from the high value placed on the nation’s unique flavors of humility. Children must ask permission to speak to their teacher, even in answer to a direct question. Yet despite this ritual acknowledgment of the disparity in the student-teacher power relationship, the teacher uses words like “befarmayeed” [command me] on the student. Much of this verbal shadow play is understandably lost in the subtitling. “Befarmayeed,” a word used almost unconsciously by Iranians when they invite a guest inside, is translated as “go [on in].” For the Persian speaking viewer it is difficult not to lament the loss of irony when a principal who has just expelled a student invites him back in with a “befarmayeed.” This odd hybrid of sarcasm and humbleness is one of Persian culture’s favorite assortments humility.

Another example of highly illuminating self-lowering word usage is the word “Bandeh Khoda,” literally Slave of God, used in this movie to refer to a blind person. Iranians so often refer to themselves as “Bandeh,” slave, that the word has almost become synonymous with the pronoun “I.” “Bandeh Khoda” however is a term reserved for those less fortunate than the speaker. In this centuries-old politically correct speech, Iranians acknowledge their own good fortune by disowning their personal pride in it. All slaves are, after all, equal. Every scene in Children seems to feast on Iran’s highly developed art of self depractaion, loosely known as ta’arof. Not surprisingly, humility has been the preoccupation of many of Iran’s most beloved contributors to her civilization, the Sufi poets, Rumi, Hafez, Khayyam, Saadi and so on.

Keeping in mind the Iranian obsession with self lowering, it is not surprising that the movie’s climax has to do with whether the protagonist will succeed in finishing third in the race. The audience has seen enough heart and determination in this little boy to know he could outrun a herd of wildebeest, but will he stay true to his humble quest? Director Majid Majidi has personal experience with this dilemma. He told his family he was studying engineering, a high paying respectable job, when in fact he was studying drama, a much less desirable pursuit because of its low prospects of employment and Iranian society's lack of respect for the performing arts. We are very fortunate that Majidi lied to his family and humbly decided not to finish ‘”first.” It is hard to imagine any kind of engineering work this unassuming and socially aware director may have done to match his contributions to the world of art.

Iran's highly regarded Institute for the Intellectual Development of Children and Young Adults (website in Persian) is also in part a government propaganda organization. Its sponsorship of Children should alert the viewer to possible bias in the movie’s contents. However, Majidi hides a powerful message in this movie that grows more and more subversive as Iran’s global confrontations intensify. Ali does not succeed in finishing third. To his great chagrin he accidentally comes in first. The disappointed face of Zahra, when she realizes her brother has not come home with the shoes, is the face of the people of Iran in the not too distant future. As Iran’s ever advancing military technology continues to drain her resourses , Iranians will say to their government, “We didn’t want first place, we didn’t want glory or fame. We are a people who take pride only in our humility. All we asked of our revolution was bread, education, jobs, medicine.” All we asked for was a pair of shoes.