111 Girls wins Best Film Award at Pan Asia Film Festival

A proud moment for Nahid Ghobadi.

The directorial debut by Iranian film director Nahid Ghobadi (sister of the renowned film-maker Bahman Ghobadi) has been dubbed by jurors Nikki Bedi, Hardeep Singh Kohli - Executive Director of the Iran Heritage Foundation - Haleh Anvari and BBC Diplomatic Correspondent Bridget Kendall, as the Best Film of the Pan Asia Film Festival 2013.

In separate interviews conducted in the first week of PAFF 2013, I asked festival director Sumantro Ghose and Artistic Director Alison Poltock if they felt strongly about a particular film in the line-up. They both said that 111 Girls was their film of choice. Ghose made his preference for the genre of Iranian film very clear and added

If you watch one frame, you instantly recognise it as Iranian. There’s an astonishing beauty which combines melancholy and existentialism… there’s even touches of humour in there as well. Considering what is happening in Iran right now, it’s a real shame to see how Iran is becoming increasingly cut off from global contexts when you have these fantastic film-makers who want their films seen, to engage in a global dialogue.

Despite challenges faced by the organisers of running a film festival on a tight budget, Ghose has emphasised how much the festival has grown each year. They are expanding the screening locations to other cities such as Leeds and Glasgow, have received much more attention from distributors in the British film industry this year. Both Poltock and Ghose stressed their inclination toward independent films over large studios in gaining a more accurate representation of emerging and established talent across the Asian film industry. Ghose added that they travel to international film festivals such as Cannes and Busan (in Korea) to select films for the festival as themes of migration and cultural identity are of increasing relevance as a context of production, the films placed emphasis on multiple cultural identities as a modern social condition on account of the amplifyinhg dialogue of contemporary society with past tradition.

Ghose added, candidly: “You can view the film as a stunningly beautiful cinematic piece one level, but there’s so much in that film that lends itself to deeper interpretations.” He added that the shared experience of cinema, bringing together an audience that spans a wide cultural diaspora “is a real thrill.” I couldn’t agree more.

On a parting note, I think 111 Girls was definitely deserving of the title. It functioned as an insightful, contemporary take on Iranian geopolitics - especially due to its setting in Iranian Kurdistan which has been imbricated in the recent events that have taken place in Syria, and it is a remarkable cornerstone for the growing Ghobadi legacy.

Inside the theatre. Image Courtesy: Film Culture 360
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Why does food taste better when we Instagram it?

Delay leads to increased pleasure when you set up a perfect shot of your dinner.

Been on holiday? Take any snaps? Of course you did – but if you’re anything like me, your friends and family didn’t make it into many of them. Frankly, I can only hope that Mr Whippy and I will still be mates in sixty years, because I’m going to have an awful lot of pictures of him to look back on.

Once a decidedly niche pursuit, photographing food is now almost as popular as eating it, and if you thought that the habit was annoying at home, it is even worse when it intrudes on the sacred peace of a holiday. Buy an ice cream and you’ll find yourself alone with a cone as your companion rushes across a four-lane highway to capture his or hers against the azure sea. Reach for a chip before the bowl has been immortalised on social media and get your hand smacked for your trouble.

It’s a trend that sucks the joy out of every meal – unless, that is, you’re the one behind the camera. A new study published in the Journal of Personality and Social Psychology suggests that taking pictures of food enhances our pleasure in it. Diners at the food court of a farmers’ market in Philadelphia were asked either to photograph their meal or to eat “as you normally would”, then were questioned about how they found it. Those in the photography group reported that not only did they enjoy their meal more, but they were “significantly more immersed in the experience” of eating it.

This backs up evidence from previous studies, including one from this year in the Journal of Consumer Marketing, which found that participants who had been asked to photograph a red velvet cake – that bleeding behemoth of American overindulgence – later rated it as significantly tastier than those who had not.

Interestingly, taking a picture of a fruit salad had no effect on its perceived charms, but “when descriptive social norms regarding healthy eating [were] made salient”, photographing these healthier foods did lead to greater enjoyment. In other words, if you see lots of glossy, beautifully lit pictures of chia seed pudding on social media, you are more likely to believe that it’s edible, despite all the evidence to the contrary.
This may seem puzzling. After all, surely anything tastes better fresh from the kitchen rather than a protracted glamour shoot – runny yolks carefully split to capture that golden ooze, strips of bacon arranged just so atop plump hemispheres of avocado, pillowy burger buns posed to give a glimpse of meat beneath. It is hardly surprising that 95 million posts on Instagram, the photo-sharing site, proudly bear the hashtag #foodporn.

However, it is this delay that is apparently responsible for the increase in pleasure: the act of rearranging that parsley garnish, or moving the plate closer to the light, increases our anticipation of what we are about to eat, forcing us to consider how delicious it looks even as we forbid ourselves to take a bite until the perfect shot is in the bag. You could no doubt achieve the same heightened sense of satisfaction by saying grace before tucking in, but you would lose the gratification that comes from imagining other people ogling your grilled Ibizan sardines as they tuck in to an egg mayonnaise at their desk.

Bear in mind, though, that the food that is most successful on Instagram often has a freakish quality – lurid, rainbow-coloured bagel-croissant hybrids that look like something out of Frankenstein’s bakery are particularly popular at the moment – which may lead to some unwise menu choices in pursuit of online acclaim.

On the plus side, if a diet of giant burgers and salted-caramel lattes leaves you feeling queasy, take heart: if there is one thing that social media likes more than #avotoast, it is embarrassing oversharing. After a week of sickening ice-cream shots, a sickbed selfie is guaranteed to cheer up the rest of us. 

Felicity Cloake is the New Statesman’s food columnist. Her latest book is The A-Z of Eating: a Flavour Map for Adventurous Cooks.

This article first appeared in the 25 August 2016 issue of the New Statesman, Cameron: the legacy of a loser