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
Show Hide image

The film for The Lost City of Z was flown back from the jungle – and it was worth it

Based on David Grann’s book about the British explorer Percy Fawcett, the film is a beautiful, diligent portrait. Plus: Aquarius.​

Two ravishing new films with a Brazilian flavour are generous not only in length (two and a half hours apiece) but in wisdom and wonder. The Lost City of Z is based on David Grann’s book about the British explorer Percy Fawcett, who embarked in 1906 on a Royal Geographical Society expedition, only to become entranced by the legend of an advanced Amazonian civilisation. Fawcett (Charlie Hunnam, delivering his lines in a mesmerising whisper) is drawn repeatedly to the jungle with his aide-de-camp, Henry (Robert Pattinson), interrupting these quests only to fight on the Somme or to return to England to impregnate his patient wife, Nina (Sienna Miller).

Fawcett raises hackles by arguing against the characterisation of the indigenous people as savages and the film repeats this democracy of spirit visually, making no distinction in mystique and allure between the various locations. Devon looks as delicious as Bolivia or Brazil; the mood in the wood-panelled conference room where Fawcett is reprimanded for abandoning one of his party is as treacherous as the depths of the jungle. This creates a continuity between the various worlds, rather than making one exotic at the expense of the other.

James Gray, who writes and directs, retains the unfashionable preference for film over digital which has defined his previous work (moody, mumbly dramas such as We Own the Night and Two Lovers). The picture was shot by Darius Khondji on 35mm, even though that added over half a million dollars to the budget and meant the footage had to be flown thousands of miles from the Colombian rainforest locations to be processed. It was worth it. The dense colours are soaked deep into the grain of the filmstock. They tell a story not available in pixels.

Gray’s screenplay weighs Fawcett’s bravery against his intolerance of ­fallibility, his racial progressiveness against the short-sightedness of his sexual politics. When Nina asks to accompany him, it’s more than he can stomach. “Men and women have performed their roles since the beginning of time,” he fumes. All at once a man fighting social orthodoxy takes cover beneath its privileges. Nina is framed against the tangled blue flowers of the wallpaper; that’s the closest she will get to his adventures. And yet it is she who invokes Browning’s “Andrea del Sarto” to urge her husband on: “Ah, but a man’s reach should exceed his grasp,/Or what’s a heaven for?”

The diligent direction hints that Gray was aiming for the level of scrutiny found in Barry Lyndon, an impression supported by a talismanic cameo from Murray Melvin, who starred in Kubrick’s 1975 film. Barry Lyndon pops up, too, in Aquarius: the distinguished music writer Clara (the incredible Sônia Braga) has a poster for the movie in her Recife apartment. She lives alone but not lonely, visited by her adult children and attended to by a long-serving maid, Ladjane (Zoraide Coleto). A more unwelcome interruption comes in the shape of the property developers who want Clara, the last ­resident in her block, to sell up and move out.

We already know she is formidable. She wears her mastectomy scars defiantly, and the opening scene establishes that her anthem is Queen’s “Another One Bites the Dust”. With her black hair scraped severely into a bun, and her lips on the verge of a wicked laugh or a vinegary screw-you sneer, Clara is a tenacious warrior. Yet in these businessmen who hide their desires behind tight smiles and veiled threats, she may have met her match.

Aquarius is a leisurely character study that is also urgently political in its treatment of race, class and commerce. Its Brazilian director, Kleber Mendonça Filho, who started out as a critic, has a gift for translating psychological states into cinematic language. His
use of dissolves is haunting, his placement of figures in the frame expressive, and his zooms make you swoon. No detail escapes his eye, from restless feet jiggling under the table on a girls’ night out to strands of hair caressed by the breeze at a late-night party.

The film’s main symbol is a chest of drawers, crammed with layers of memory to which only we have been given access. It represents the sort of history that is in danger of being trampled by people who believe every principle has a price tag. The beach outside warns of shark attacks but the deadliest predators come in human form.

Ryan Gilbey is the New Statesman's film critic. He is also the author of It Don't Worry Me (Faber), about 1970s US cinema, and a study of Groundhog Day in the "Modern Classics" series (BFI Publishing). He was named reviewer of the year in the 2007 Press Gazette awards.

This article first appeared in the 23 March 2017 issue of the New Statesman, Trump's permanent revolution