{"id":89094,"date":"2020-09-22T07:17:57","date_gmt":"2020-09-22T12:17:57","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/PERSIAN-HERITAGE.COM\/?p=89094"},"modified":"2020-09-22T07:17:57","modified_gmt":"2020-09-22T12:17:57","slug":"auto-draft-217","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/PERSIAN-HERITAGE.COM\/en\/2020\/09\/22\/auto-draft-217\/","title":{"rendered":"Iranian-German movie ‘Bandar Band’ sends message of hope"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"DW \u2014 Iranian director Manijeh Hekmat expected the production of her latest movie to go ahead as planned \u2014 but then she found herself having to improvise. The resulting film is more than just an homage to Iran’s landscapes.<\/p>\n

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There\u2019s water as far as the eye can see. Muddy waves lazily roll towards the camera. A lone electricity pole remains\u00a0standing amidst this waterscape. Then a boat approaches. When its three passengers get out, it becomes clear that they are in fact standing\u00a0on a completely flooded highway.<\/p>\n

A minibus is seen carefully ploughing through the floods, eventually coming to a complete stop. The three passengers get in as a news reader on the radio gives a flood warning for the Iranian province of Khuzestan. The roads have already been closed there, and villages evacuated.<\/p>\n

The camera then pans through the windshield to reveal what is going on outside: people in packed cars, bumper to bumper trucks, shepherds trying to drive a panicked herd of sheep through the crowded convoy of vehicles.<\/p>\n

This is both a graphic\u00a0insight into the state of emergency in southwestern Iran last year and\u00a0an early scene in Iranian director Manijeh Hekmat’s latest work, Bandar Band<\/em>.<\/p>\n

When reality bites<\/h2>\n

Hekmat, whose films have run regularly\u00a0at the Berlinale Film Festival, had planned to produce a road movie of sorts focusing on three young musicians from the countryside setting off for a competition in the capital. It was intended to be a road movie full of hope and big dreams of an international career, a\u00a0400-kilometer (250 miles) story of the drive to Tehran that is\u00a0adventurous and fun. That was the plan, at least.<\/p>\n

But severe storms in Iran thwarted the\u00a0director’s filming schedule. About two thirds of the original plot were still salvageable, the film\u2019s co-producer Yasmin Khalifa told DW. The remaining parts then had to be improvised again and again along the way.<\/p>\n

At one point in the film, the cast are being told\u00a0that they have to take aid supplies along or they wouldn’t be allowed to continue their journey.<\/p>\n

“That actually happened,” Khalifa explained, adding that it was one of the many things that were unplanned, resulting in a script that was heavily inspired by reality.\u00a0<\/p>\n

Watery landscapes<\/h2>\n

In the film,\u00a0one of the protagonists Amir\u00a0suggests:\u00a0“Let’s just go straight to Tehran.” It\u00a0turns out to be a bit of wishful thinking:\u00a0The band’s pregnant singer Mahla calls the organizers of the festival to confirm what time the performance starts, and to inform them that the band is on their way. But the road is totally flooded: all they see for miles is water \u2014 which, however, doesn’t dampen their spirits.<\/p>\n

Mahla and guitarist Navid meanwhile use their time to watch online music videos of\u00a0competing bands, where they see only women singing at the microphone. In Iran, this is anything but a matter of course, says co-producer Yasmin Khalifa.\u00a0<\/p>\n

“Mahla is a singer and the two musicians are there to accompany her. The reason behind this is that women in Iran are not allowed to sing solo in public. But this is a secret competition, so to speak, where the three are heading. Where the female voices can present themselves on stage.”<\/p>\n

Read more<\/em>:\u00a0Iranian artist and director Shirin Neshat celebrates Islamic women in new film<\/a><\/p>\n

Outside the windows of the minibus, the landscapes seem to float past the passengers like paintings in watercolor. Endless expanses and narrow rows of trees are reflected in the watery plains like a surreal green belt, with the horizon a pale blue blur.\u00a0<\/p>\n

Mahla\u2019s gaze follows these passing landscapes, as she caresses her arched pregnant belly tenderly and introspectively.<\/p>\n

A taste of music from Iran<\/h2>\n

Then a police cordon in the middle of the road stops the vehicle. Everyone gets agitated. Amir, the driver of the minibus and father-to-be, shouts that they “urgently have to go to Tehran, and we have a pregnant woman in the car.”\u00a0<\/p>\n

But the police officers look unimpressed. There seems to be no thoroughfare; all roads are closed. “I know the way,” says Amir, which eventually seems to help.<\/p>\n

The minibus continues to plough through the water \u2014 and towards an uncertain future. The three protagonists pass the time singing together, lending their voice\u00a0to everything from Iranian folk songs to pop tunes.\u00a0<\/p>\n

“In the film, we listen to music the whole way through, and also get a feeling for the kind of music that the Iranian youth listen to now,” co-producer Khalifa explains.<\/p>\n

A long, treacherous journey<\/h2>\n

At last, they emerge from a\u00a0rough and bumpy sand road and\u00a0reach a stretch of asphalt road. Things look better, at least for a while. But then the minibus comes to a sudden standstill in front of a gaping abyss: The road in front of the band has been washed off by the rain and has become impassable.<\/p>\n

The three young musicians are seen standing helpless before the deep cracks in the pavement of the road. There is no way they can pass: they have to turn around.\u00a0<\/p>\n

“We will be late,” Mahla tells the concert organizer in Tehran, as an entire village covered in water come into view. But it\u2019s not just any village \u2014 it\u2019s the home of Navid, the guitarist. The trio had planned a stopover to pick up his concert guitar.\u00a0<\/p>\n

As they wade through the hip-deep water towards his house and enter, the instrument drifts toward him. And this is when the full severity of the situation truly hits him.<\/p>\n

The elusive dream of freedom<\/h2>\n

Navid is completely devastated. With his eyes closed, he lets the wind blow through hair. In short flashbacks, he is seen standing on stage singing. But this\u00a0world has been destroyed.<\/p>\n

Yasmin Khalifa explains why the inability to perform with his beloved guitar is so earth-shattering: “If they win this music competition, they\u2019ll go on from Tehran to Amsterdam, London and Berlin. They could finally travel along the Rhine in Germany, they think.\u00a0 But the reality in Iran is quite different: they are not allowed to go out; they are locked up in this country. And where is the only place they truly are free? In their heads, in their music, in their dreams.”Director Manijeh Hekmat is a highly respected filmmaker in Iran, according to co-producer Yasmin Khalifa. She has managed to build a reputation at festivals around the world but also faces ubiquitous censorship in Iran.<\/p>\n

Though that issue\u00a0is\u00a0only hinted at in the film, political messages resonate gently between the lines of dialogues. The imagery of the film is charged with metaphors while also\u00a0serving\u00a0as a visual homage to the beautiful landscapes of Iran.<\/p>\n

Read more<\/em>:\u00a0How a German filmmaker secretly captured Iran’s illegal techno scene<\/a><\/p>\n

A message of hope amid stormy clouds<\/h2>\n

The film benefits from a strong sense of authenticity due to all the incidental documentary-style material, which was unexpectedly created by the unplanned events that occurred during the trip.\u00a0<\/p>\n