Fifi Howls from Happiness

I had no idea who that was. Since I make it a habit not reading about the movies I'm about to watch, the less I know the happier I am (mostly, depending on how the movies turn out to be). So apart from the fact, that this was a documentary, I had no idea what I was letting myself into. And I got to know an artist, I had never heard about. Contrary to the filmmaker that is. And the enthusiasm springs over to the artist/painter himself.

The guy is funny and although we get to see him towards the end of his journey, he does remember his good times and lets the viewer participate on what he went through. There will be a few others who will meet the artist (fans) and the interaction overall is really priceless. Even though not easy at all times (which artist is), it's funny and tragic at the same time.

If you wish discover one of the most important faces of Modern Iran fine arts, this is the documentary that will learn you about Bahman Mohassess: the great sculptor/painter who lived and worked most of his life in Roma rather than in his motherland.

Mitra Farahani succeeded to turn her documentary to an attractive fiction, where chapter after chapter the spectator will familiarize with the personage. The director narrates briefly the essential points from personal life and professional career of the artist. She had not used expensive equipment and cameras, but very discreetly she entered in the privacy of the artist and broke the solitude of the old man in a pleasant way. Thanks to this confidence between the cineaste and her subject, Mohassess plays himself very naturally just like an actor; as a result the last days of his life become a touching tale in front of Farahani's camera.

The resemblance with the short story of Balzac "The unknown masterpiece" is to a certain extent comparable, as Mohassess destroyed several of his works in his life and like the Master Frenhofer dies before finishing his last chef d'oeuvre. He left the show at the right moment, so his death becomes dramatically his ultimate masterwork.

Hypothetically with a bit of chance and obviously by better management of his relationships with the international artistic Medias/ art galleries/ collectors/etc. Mohassess could have become as famous as his fellows such as Giacometti, but he preferred to remain loyal to his own style: individualist but united with human cause, philosophically pessimistic but joyful and droll in daily life, a tremendously creative artist but in an auto-destruction approach like a rebel intellectual. Undoubtedly the sad and regrettable fact is to observe how both Iranian Diaspora and domestic society were terribly indifferent during decades towards such a genius!

I'm a filmmaker. I seem to always have SOME issue with most films. So when I come across a film that feeds me as well as this film has - I just want to scream its name from the rooftops.

Mirta Farahani!! She is our brilliant one-woman-band seeming to shoot, interview, edit, record sound... and oftentimes her handheld shots feel as if they are only able to approximate the bigger budget locked off framing she would intended. And thus, with each shot I feel the urgency of the story!

A big cumbersome crew would have likely gotten in the way of this intimate, lovely, expressive portrait. How lucky we are that this film exists!

This portrait of a complex, charismatic artist, fearlessly vulnerable, opinionated to the core reaching through the screen and teaching me how deeply one can commit to their craft.

To commit to the point life and art are blurred.

Oh god. Did I just write that? Yes I did.

Promise me you will do your best not to judge that corny-ass sentence, until you've seen the film. It left me damn near mute, with nothing but a handful of platitudes, pawing for the words to describe the ache in my chest.