This is a film on contemporary Iran and the dichotomy between the outward display of conservative values in public, contrasted with the exciting underground nightlife that can only be accessed with passwords and subtle nods of the head for the initiated. This underworld is dancing on a knife’s edge, as the morality police could swoop in at any moment, ready to make arrests and shut the joint down.
Despite the temptation to make the film into a heavy-handed lecture on the lack of LGBT (and for that matter women’s) rights in parts of the Middle East, director Maryam Keshavarz brings a light touch to the work, almost as if she were caressing the most erotic part of the human body, wherever it might be (on you). To heighten the forbidden love and just how dangerous the lovers’ predicament is, the camera switches stocks every so often, shifting the focus to an unknown CCTV feed, demonstrating that they could be caught and punished anywhere, anytime, for lesser offences such as playing western music too loudly in their car or letting too thick a lock of hair peek out from underneath their veils. Imagine the consequences if the true nature of their love were exposed. Keshavarz understands that sometimes, all you need is a look in your eye, or the unspoken presence of a key character in a scene, that gives you all need to know. This is a film so intimate that it’s almost as if we were eavesdropping on inner monologue. That this is Keshavarz’s directorial debut, one filmed in secret in Beirut and with a powder keg of a subject matter, makes this an even more remarkable accomplishment.
Director Keshavarz with the cast, receiving the Sundance Audience Award in January 2011 |