THE DAY I BECAME A WOMAN ‘AFILM BY MARZIYEH MESHKINI In the past two decades, Iran has gained worldwide recognition for producing some of the most provocative films in recent history. This remarkable cultural develop- ment has been critical for regaining national dignity at a time when Iran was dissipating in the shadows of political isolation. With the Islamic revolution in 1979 came a ma- jor national crisis, where Iranians were suddenly conflicted between their Persian and Islamic identities. Many Iranians left the country in objection and fear of the Islamization of their country; others stayed behind to cope, and over time, the process of cultural transformation took its course. Since then, social, political, economic, and religious pressures have slowly taken their toll on Iranians, but perhaps the most painful consequence of the revolution has been the loss of freedom of expression under a dictatorship that governs every aspect of the population’s public and private lives. Artists have been especially challenged by this revolu- tion, as they have had to comply with the social codes and regulations of the government’s censorship. But many,a particularly in the Iranian film community, have pioneered ways to transform this oppression into an asset. Filmmakers have turned inward to their imagination to develop a new form of expression that, while respectful to the law and its codes, becomes critical in its cultural reading, authentic in its poetic sensibility, and universal in its spiritual and humanistic values. Many have learned to reformulate their thinking, focusing less on the extraordinary and the specta- cle that will entertain the public; rather, looking for content and meaning in the most ordinary acts and events in human life. It is of interest that Iranians have gained such an affin- ity with the art of cinema among all the Western cultural mediums that have been introduced and imported to Iran. Cinema has presented itself as the most complete form of art and, for many Iranians, it is a medium that allows for the Persian sensibility, the poetic and mystical expression that has been for so long a part of their ancient and modern | cultures. In many ways, Iranians have relied on the obscu- | | rity and subversive nature of poetic language to express themselves in order to transcend their pain under brutal dictatorships that seem to govern their lives over and over again. In fact, if studied closely, one can easily detect how this poetic characteristic has been transformed over time in every form of artistic medium produced in Iran today. Iranian films have equally become a contemporary readap- tation of a deeply Persian characteristic, rooted in ancient Iran. If many of the recent narratives produced in Iran appear merely as a reflection of the current Islamic Iranian society, the spiritual and philosophical nature of their mes- sage is a direct indication of their roots in classic Persian literature. Many Iranian contemporary films are reminis- cent of the profound words of mystics such as Attar, Rumi, Hafiz, Khayam, and at times the work of contemporary poets such as Forough Farokhzad and Sohrab Sepehri. A few filmmakers have been in the forefront of this movement, pioneering a new genre of cinema that has paved the path for the younger generation; this includes ‘Abbas Kiarostami, Sohrab Shahid Sales, Darius Mehr- joui, Amir Naderi, Bahram Beizaei, Bahman Farmanara, and very importantly Mohsen Makhmalbaf, Marziyeh Meshkini, one of the few female directors living in Iran, is among the most promising of this new generation of film- makers, Married to Mohsen Makhmalbaf, Meshkini was trained by her husband who also educated his talented and | highly regarded daughter, Samira Makhmalbaf and her other siblings. Meshkini’s approach to cinema reflects a vi- sion that is stylistically refreshing and culturally poignant,Shirin Nest - Pessage, 2001 - Production Sill - Copyright Shirin Neshat 200] - Photo: Larry Barns ‘Courtesy Gladstone Callry, New York especially at a moment when Iranian cinema is becoming progressively derivative and formulaic. Visually astonishing, narratively minimal and surrealis-_| tic, The Day I Became a Woman touches on the complexi- ties behind a patriarchal society that subjects its women to deep sexual and moral taboos. Yet the film accomplishes | this without undermining larger and mote profound ques- tions that go beyond simple gender divisions. Meshkini del- icately reveals the foundation of a culture that is conflicted between past and present, tradition and modernity, ideas of community and individuality, and, ultimately, between East and West. Therefore The Day I Became a Woman does not fall into a predictable feminist critique, representing men as beasts and women as their victims; rather, it shows how in traditional, religious societies the question of sexuality and gender is inseparable from the overall ideology. As opposed to the perspectives of many Western critics, I believe The Day I Became a Woman is not merely about the oppression of Iranian women; rather, it is about the celebration of female power and strength under a repressive traditional environment. Throughout history, oppression has been a familiar experience for Iranian people, men and women alike. But what I believe Meshkini attempts to ad- dress here goes beyond a simplistic, stereotypical represen- tation of a culture; rather, she frames the sense of dignity and defiance of people who confront and overcome their oppressive traditions. What is most fascinating about The Day I Became a Woman is how it breaks the predictable pattern of recently exported Iranian cinema. First, it is constructed as a tril- ogy, three short stories that function more like visual poems than conventional narratives. Metaphors are employed to express all that can not be expressed in words, whether it is the yeil as a symbol of oppression, the bicycle as a symbol of modemity, the horse as a symbol of tradition, or material accessories as the universal obsession with capitalism. Each of the three short stories Hava, Ahoo, and Houra represents ‘a woman from a different generation, each with her own unique set of problems and aspirations. Fava, the first of the three stories, is the tale of a young girl’s traumatic experience of coming of age. The story begins as Hava wakes on her ninth birthday, only to dis- cover through her mother and grandmother that on this day she will become a woman. She is immediately ordered to‘Shire Nest - Passage, 2001 - Production Stl - Copyright Shin Neshat 2001 - Photo: Lary Barns (Courtesy Giastone Gallery, New York disassociate herself from her favorite male playmate, and to wear a veil from that day on. The sudden realization of the end of childhood and entry to adulthood is a frightening idea that Hava herself is too young to fully comprehend. With subtly and humor, Meshkini follows Hava as she goes to search for her male playmate, in her last hour of freedom before she turns nine at noon. To keep her promise she must find a means to measure time. In a beautifully staged scene, the grandmother gives a stick to Hava and teaches her how to monitor time by observing the size and movement of the stick’s shadow. She advises that once the shadow disap- pears, it is noon, and time to return home. Desperate to play with her friend, and worried about the passing of time, Hava rushes out to find him, and later waits patiently as the young boy attends to his homework. To please her friend, she goes to the store and returns with a lollipop. In the most touching and innocent moment, Hava and the young boy suck on a single lollipop, exchanging it through the window back and forth. Suddenly this simple gesture becomes sexually charged. (There was apparently an objection by the Iranian Ministry of Culture against this scene, but the director refused to alter it.) Here Hava and her friend unconsciously cross the fine borders of plea- sure/violation, innocence/shame, and freedom/oppression. Obviously conscious of the provocative nature of the scene, Meshkini allows the subtlety of this act to speak about the problematic of extreme sexual taboo in the Iranian society. A deeply melancholic moment comes when the hour is finally over and Hava’s mother arrives to take her home. As the viewer we can’t help but suspect that tragi- cally with the end of her childhood and consequently of her freedom, what awaits Hava in the future is the weight of an oppressive tradition. Another poignant scene in this episode is when Hava encounters two young boys at the beach who have bril- liantly built a boat with scraps of wood and metal. But what they are missing is the most important item, the sail. The boys ask for Hava’s scarf in exchange for a small toy. Here we are faced with Hava’s hesitation and internal conflict as she is, on one hand, tempted to interact and play with the boys, but, on the other hand, she is consumed by reserva- tion and timidity now that she is beginning to feel like a woman, The boys finally convince Hava to make the ex- change and Haya lends her scarf. While the boys set off their boat with Hava’s scarf into the sea, Hava also releases her toy free into the water. Meshkini metaphorically trans- forms the concept of veil, Hava’s scarf, from an object of‘Shini Neshat - Rapture 199 - Production SU = Copyright Shia Neshat 1999 - Photo: Lary Barns CCouriesy Gladstone Gallery, New York‘Shinn Neshat - Rapture, 1999 -Proéution Stil = Copyright Shirin Neshat 1999 ‘Coureey Gladstone Gallery, New Yorke o: ary Ba repression to a tool for emancipation. ‘Fihoo, the second story in the trilogy and perhaps the most visually provocative film of the three, is the tale of a woman’s plight for independence. As Ahoo rides a bi- cycle in what appears to be a race with many other black- robed women along the beautiful coast of Kish, her angry husband chases her on a horse to stop her. The husband’s pride is clearly broken by his disobedient wife; the more determined he becomes to reach her, the more determined she becomes to break free. Meshkini captures this ten- sion beautifully, as she cuts back and forth between the husband’s ride on the horse and Ahoo on the bicycle. At last, when Ahoo refuses to stop, the husband leaves, only to return with a judge to administer a divorce. In a rather obscure scenario, the judge pronounces them divorced and leaves. Moments later, as Ahoo continues to ride the bicycle alone, we sense her confusion and hesitation but her reluc- tance quickly vanishes as she finds herself once again sur- rounded by another group of men, this time the elderly from the community, including her own father. When the men’s desperate plea with Ahoo fails, they return as well. At once relieved, Ahoo continues with her journey until she is abruptly and forcefully stopped again by her brothers who succeed in finally bringing her down, taking away her bicycle on their horse. Ahoo’s story represents the perpetual dilemma within contemporary Iranian society of youth, particularly women, who are caught between a desire for change and modernity, and a force of tradition that holds them back. Ultimately Ahoo, like many other women, faces the difficult choice between the comfort of marriage and the pursuit of the community’s values, versus the liberating risk of adventure and individual freedom. Fhe most surrealistic story of the trilogy is the last of three short films, Houra, the tale of an elderly woman who is driven by a mad obsession to fulfill her lifetime dreams, mostly to possess all the material accessories that she has been deprived of during her life. As Houra arrives in Kish’s modern airport, she is immediately surrounded and helped by a group of young boys working at the airport. In several humorous scenes we watch as Houra is pushed around in a shopping cart by a boy to various fancy shop- ping malls, Slowly as they pile up the accessories, lines of other young boys follow Houra with pushearts. Houra who had marked her wish list by a series of ribbons tied to herShinn Neshat- Passage, 2001 -Prodition Sul - Copyright Shirin Nest 2001 - Photo: Lary Bars (Courtesy Gladstone Gallery, New York fingers, has begun to unwrap them one by one, yet suddenly she comes to the realization that she has forgotten her one last wish. In an incredibly magical scene, Houra and the boys arrive at the beach to set up the furniture to discover the missing item in Houra’s wish list. As the children lay out the household items and create an imaginary house without walls, Houra becomes ecstatic by what she sees. Here the adventure seems to take a new turn as Houra and the boys seem to suddenly leap out of reality and enter a fantasy world. In this most imaginative scene, they become strange- ly united as a family. This transparent house becomes a playground for the boys and a dreamland for Houra. She rests in peace on her couch overjoyed by watching the boys and wondering what was the last item in her wish list. As the viewer, one can only assume that perhaps her final wish may have been her impossible dream of becoming a moth- er, as she pleads with the boys to become her sons. Ultimately, in this episode what becomes overwhelm- ingly moving is the relationship between Houra and the young boys. Inevitably their bonding may be due to their shared experience of personal and social deprivation. If Houra is a lonely old woman without a future, the boys are neglected children who have been robbed of their childhood by their families and society and have little prospect for a bright future. At last, and in the most powerful scene of the film, Ho- ura and the children load the furniture into logs, and slowly float away in the sea. This image is at once suggestive of a dangerous and fatalistic journey, yet the departure becomes symbolic of human courage and determination. Here in- deed Houra’s madness, obsessions and free-spirited nature, become her tools to enlightenment. She succeeds in tran- scending the banality of everyday life and social repression by the choice she makes. In the end, Houra is the heroine among the three female characters in The Day I Became a Woman, as she is the only protagonist who truly transcends society and achieves her goals. One of the most striking aspects of this trilogy is how the director conceives the three episodes to take place within the same day in three different areas of Kish; we dis- cover this as the three stories converge together in the final episode. Two women from Ahoo’s story suddenly appear on the beach with their bicycles, apparently separated fromShirin Nes - Rape 99 Peco Sl Cog Shia Nat 1559 -Pet: Lary Bar Cn Gane Ces Ne a the rest of the group. The women, who are immediately struck by the spread of household items, curiously stroll into Houra’s imaginary home. Envious of Houra, they try to convince her that she is too old to enjoy the accessories and therefore she should consider sharing them with young people like themselves. Houra quickly dismisses the idea and continues with her plans. Later, as Houra and the boys sail off in the sea, we discover Hava standing on the beach watching as the boat with Houra and the boys disappears. Hava’s vulnerable eyes express another envy: her wish to have been among them on board. The location of The Day I Became a Woman is a curi- ous choice. Kish, an island located in the Persian Gulf in the southern part of Iran, has an unusually non-Iranian characteristic as it is primarily occupied by a population of Arab descent, However, for the past decade or so, Kish has been considered a major vacation spot for those Iranians who try to briefly escape their usual life in dense Iranian cities. Equipped with luxury shopping malls and beaches, Kish has become a window into the West that many Irani- ans don’t have access to. In addition, the coastal landscape of Kish is unlike the typical Iranian landscape, which consists mostly of deserts and mountains. One can therefore suspect that the geographical and social dimension of Kish had a major impact on the director’s decision to choose this location for her film. One can assume that, metaphorically speaking, the unique setting of this island represents a space of exile, a sanctuary, a refuge, a place for time out. This idea particularly comes across in the stories of Houra and Ahoo, with Houra selecting Kish as a place to fulfill her dreams and Ahoo gaining the freedom to ride her bicycle on the coastal roads of Kish, an act that would not have been tolerated in the mainland of Iran. What is most striking about this film is the craftsman- ship of the script which was written by Meshkini’s husband, Mohsen Makhmalbaf. Makhmalbaf has a superb talent of writing narratives that flawlessly engage the viewer in emotional, visual, and rational terms. Similar to many of his own past films, The Day I Became a Woman is rooted in principles of Iranian sensibility, yet its surrealistic nature borrows from many great international filmmakers such as Amir Kusturica and Fellini. It is also remarkable that Makhmalbaf, as a male writer/director, was able to address | the subject of the female predicament with such command, sensitivity, and accuracy. Without a doubt, the superb cinematography of Ebra- him Ghafouri and Mohammad Ahmadi contributes to thevisual power of this film. Frame by frame, the viewer is | captivated by the sheer beauty of the images. Among the highlights are the images of Ahoo’s husband as he rides his horse to reach Ahoo, and Ahoo herself as she rides her bicycle among other black-robed women. Here the emo- tional tension between Ahoo and her husband is beautifully | explored through wide and tight shots. Another remarkable scene is in the final episode of Houra, when all the house- | hold items are spread out on the beach. | A discussion of The Day I Became a Woman must also acknowledge the magnificent score composed by Moham- mad Reza Darvishi. Darvishi’s music, spare but emotional, | heightens the experience of viewing this film. Created as | an unusual hybrid between tribal, indigenous melodies and — vocals together with entirely nontraditional and improvised — sounds, the score is a perfect complement to a film that travels so delicately between an ethnically specific narrative | and a universal truth. If the mark of a great film is the ability to transcend time and place, then it is my opinion that Marziyeh Mesh- kini has achieved this criteria in her debut film. The DayI | Became a Woman clearly establishes Meshkini as one of the most promising talents emerging from Iran today. | This document and all contents herewith are copyrighted works which (canes be Soponied er repretoed in an fahion iho tne execs ‘writen content of Olive Fils {© 2005 Olive Films All RightsReserved