Il palloncino bianco

Jafar Panahi was born in 1960. He was the assistent and pupil of Abbas Kiarostami (born 1940). His films are less philosophical but more like Neo Realism Iranian style. As a neo realist he sides with the underdog and this has brought him into conflict with the regime a number of times. In the summer of 2022 he was arrested in order to serve a 2010 sentence

"The white balloon" is situated just before Nowruz. Nowruz is the Iranian new year. It takes place around 21 March, and so it is a real welcoming of Spring and the beginning of the circle of live. It is a much bigger deal than new years day in the Western world. All families come together and in Iran that often entails a lot of travelling. So the preparation for Nowruz can be a rushed and stressful time and during this time not everybody has time for a little girl that has lost her banknote.

Panahi tells this everyday story from the point of view of the little girl.

Many of the worries of the grown ups turn out to be much more childish than the worries of the little girl.

Nowruz turns out to be a holiday to pay more attention to the members of your family, but certainly not automatically also to your fellow citizens.

In this respect the film resembles the message of "The wind will carry us" (1999) from his mentor Abbas Kiarostami. In this film a TV crew is in a small village to document traditional funeral rituals and is so focused on this aspect of life that the rest of the social interaction with the villagers is highly neglected.

Assuming you're keeping up-to-date with your current affairs, you'll have heard that the great democracy of Iran yesterday jailed director Jafar Panahi for six years, and forbade him from making movies, going abroad, or giving media interviews for the next twenty years. Allegedly, he had been producing a film critical of the Iranian government; that is, he was calling a spade a spade.

As a sort of one-man protest, I decided to watch one of Panahi's movies. 'The White Balloon (1995)' was the director's feature debut, and won the Caméra d'Or at the Cannes Film Festival. It tells an extremely simple tale, almost in real time: a young girl is given a 500-toman banknote to buy a goldfish for the Iranian New Year. On the way to the market, she loses the money down a sewer grate, and spends the rest of the film trying to get it back, either ignored or aided by the strangers she meets.

Putting the plot so simply doesn't really suggest a riveting cinematic experience, but I must say I was taken by the effectiveness of the film. We experience the bustling marketplace through the lens of the young girl, and genuinely share her mixed emotions. This really struck a chord with me. When I was a prep (age 5), I got lost during a school excursion, and I can still recall the dropping of my stomach, the quickened breathing, the welling of tears (don't worry, we got icy poles afterwards!). That's the feeling I got here, particularly when the snake charmer stole the girl's money and claimed it as a "donation." I felt as helpless as she did.

Fortunately, the film's overriding emotion is one of optimism. Strangers, seeing a child in distress, stop to offer their assistance. A young Afghan balloon-seller proffers a stick and chewing gum with which to retrieve the out-of-reach money. The girl's brother, a resourceful kid of about age ten, arrives on the scene, and suddenly everything seems like it's going to be OK. Sometimes simple films can be the most enjoyable of all.

In his directorial debut, Jafar Panahi - a devoted pupil of Iranian film-god Abbas Kiarostami - is able to encapsulate the stubbornness and curiosity of a seven-year-old Tehranian girl so authentically (by use of newcomer Aida Mohammadkhani) that we forget that we are watching fiction unfold.

The White Balloon has a continuous feel that is obtained by allowing the story to unravel in real time. An unseen radio informs us that the Iranian New Year is almost upon the town; a tradition for this annual event is to either catch or buy a fish (fish represent life). Razieh, the little girl, is unsatisfied with the selection of fish in the family's pond. She complains that the family's fish are too "skinny." Eventually, Razieh's brother, Ali (Mohsen Kalifi's only role thus far), cons their mother into letting Razieh have a 500 note (Iranian money) to buy the fish that she wants. On her way to the market, Razieh loses the money two times. It is the second loss that is the most serious - the money falls into the cellar of a closed shop through a sidewalk drain. The remainder of the film is devoted to the introduction of various strangers offering either to help retrieve the note or pass the time with light-humored conversation.

Beautiful cinematography (winner of the Camera d'or at Cannes in 1994), memorable characters, and stunning direction backed by Kiarostami's expertly written script make for a great film that was reminiscent of my viewing of John Sayles' Secret of Roan Inish. Like Sayles' film, there is a magical, absorbing quality to The White Balloon that spellbinds the viewer regardless of age.

It's been said that dissident Iranian filmmakers will use metaphors, children, other countries, etc to express political/social criticism. With that in mind, I want to ask Iranian viewers to comment on these conclusions.

The film is NOT about cute kids. * The girl was told many times that the fish she wanted was NOT bigger than the one she had, but she went after it anyway. * The girl was relentless asking her cash-strapped mother for money for a goldfish, and through annoying persistence got her way.

* But the final scene is the one that seared itself in my mind---the boy and girl run away as soon as they have their money, leaving the Hazara boy sitting there alone, not even thanked.

So I find the film a cleverly veiled attack on the girl's selfish opportunism and lack of feeling for the people who helped her.

If anyone knows Kiarostami or has read any interviews, please enlighten me!!

It was my big sister's turn to pick a film to go to when we were gorging ourselves in what the Reykjavik cinema festival had to offer back in the days. Didn't expect anything but mushy boredom for an hour and a half. Instead of the sentimental torture I had braced myself for, I became spellbound by this beautiful story that totally held me captivated right from the beginning to the end. The little girl, Aida who plays the protagonist, was ever so sincere and true in her role that you forgot you were watching a film, and even I felt a couple of masculine tears running down my cheeks. The White Balloon is simply a gorgeous film and it's out of the blue quirky humor elevates it even further. Even with the wet towel slap in the end, I truly loved the whole of this Persian confect buffet down to it's last bit, ... and still do!