Frontier Blues

I recently saw this film at the Edinburgh Film Festival. What a brilliant first feature!

The story follows the lives of different men living in a small town in northern Iran. The stories are simple and beautiful, about love and lose, men desperately trying to make a connection and to find meaning in their monotonous everyday existence.

I really loved the pacing of the film. It takes its time. It achieves humor and pathos without trying. It is the kind of film that only comes around once in a while, the kind of film that is getting harder and harder to make or released.

I recommend this gem to anyone who loves the cinema of Kaurismäki or Kiarostami. Babak Jalali is certainly a great new director to watch!

I saw this film at the Edinburgh Film Festival this year. I am a frequent visitor to the festival and as usual I watched my fair share of films this year. This little gem from Iran stood out above all others I saw. The film takes place in the director's hometown. An area which I was not at all familiar with. Moving along at a calm pace, it lets you take in all the little details and intricacies of the breathtaking frames and leaves you in an atmospheric wonderland. I won't say anything about plots and story lines because in a way it is unnecessary for this type of film. It's released in the UK on 30th July so go see for yourself and realise that magic and mystery still exist in cinema.

... but very, very slow. There was so much potential, I was very disappointed with its lack of depth or pace. I'm sure it meant to reflect the stagnation of the area in which it was made, but a workable movie needs more depth of characterisation in order to succeed. It would have benefited too from the female characters being given some real roles. Cinematography was also a little unsophisticated and could have made more of the incredible vistas available. There were, however, some nice performances, especially from the actors portraying the shopkeeper and the ambitious man. It also features what must surely be the world's most stoical donkey.

excerpt - Set in a northern province of Iran, with its racial mix of Turkmen, Persians, Kazakhs, Russians and Armenians, Frontier Blues depicts the lives of people in limbo, belonging to neither one country nor another, who seem to exist in a permanent state of transition.

The film's pace is glacial, but its gentle and humorous observations, as well as the striking landscape of its setting, are enough to sustain interest for its modest hour-and-a-half duration. If you've ever uttered the words "but nothing ever happened" when leaving the cinema, it's probably one to avoid. For all that, it shows some skillful and delicate filmmaking, and it'll be interesting to see what Jalali does next.

There is a debate raging in various august film organs at the moment about the merits/demerits of "slow cinema". Whatever your standpoint on the matter is, you should know that this is an example of the cycle. For myself, I watch Bergman and often hope that he will hold shots longer! Blues is the right word for what we've got here, but the men of the cast (the characters are almost entirely men) aren't utterly high and dry, and there's a goodly amount of drollery to be had. It's very important to recognise that each of the characters the films follows has someone that loves them (even if it's not the love they think they want), despite their reservoirs of ennui.

There is prettiness to be had on the northern frontiers of Iran, the quality of light on the steppes, the Caspian sea. But these characters aren't there on holiday, and they are pretty much stuck in the Doldrums. In particular I think you keenly feel the lack of female presence in the movie, all the women seem to have had the sense to absent themselves from the congenital exile. Hassan is the funniest character, he has pebble glasses and a slack jaw, his hobby is collecting car number plates from different regions in Iran, and he claims to own several eucalyptus plantations. He pines for the mother he has only ever known from a photo, a beautiful lady who ran away to Paris when he was young. His sentimental connection with her is a tape of Françoise Hardy's "Tous les garçons et les filles"; which reminded me of my schooldays, when my French teacher for a year, a real Titania who kept us all behaving through the spell of her fey grace alone, used to play us her songs under some doubtlessly invented educational pretext.

The stories aren't intersecting, and what we see is more a slice of life than traditional narrative. The director is careful to be as honest in his depictions as possible, and warns of the falsity of the Neorealist approach via a story of an ethnographic photographer from Tehran.

A funny and deeply humanistic movie, as an oblique coda, I suggest that you bring a long a sachet of dried apricots to make an experience of it if this plays near you.