The Silence (1998)

directed by Mohsen Makhmalbaf
Iran/France/Tajikistan
76 minutes
4.5 stars out of 5
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So I was very excited to watch this one because I've been trying to find a movie from Tajikistan for a long time. It's a co-production with Iran and France, but hey, Tajikistan helped out.

Right off the bat what I saw in this film was a strong visual sensibility and some nods to The Color of Pomegranates. There's even some pomegranates featured in the movie, which could have been a coincidence, but I'm choosing to believe it wasn't. That visual motif just starts out strong and keeps getting stronger- it's almost montage-like, disjointed images chosen for their visual impact and symbolic significance rather than whether they make sense or are integral to the plot. Everywhere you turn there's poetry: That sequence with the guy singing to the dog, the little girl hanging cherries on her ears like earrings and dancing, just a whole heavenly host of culture and beauty packed into a very short film.

Unfortunately the narrative feels a little bit left by the wayside more often than not. The plot is noticeably absent, left by the side of the road and glossed over in favor of the strength of the imagery and sound. I honestly didn't mind this: Sacrificing plot details to create an otherworldly, intoxicating experience using sight and sound isn't the most egregious of cinematic crimes.

This is really something that gets you out of your comfort zone, and I expected it to be a little more... conventional I guess? Only to find out that it's not. I'll admit that acting is not its strong suit but that actually helps with that otherworldly feeling I mentioned. The less the child characters' mannerisms and dialogue resemble anything a child would reasonably say in real life, the closer it moves to a dreamlike atmosphere. The main character has some pretty big problems- he's paying rent at age 10 and is about to be evicted- but there's just no emotion, no break in his neutral expression, none of the pleading or crying or even a trace of sorrow that anybody else would write into a movie. How this works, I don't exactly know. Maybe the solemnity of the film's children aids it in being taken seriously. You can tell that the adults are trying to act in more of a typical fashion but the kids just let it happen and you wouldn't think that would work but it does.

Also, as it's filled to the brim with traditional music, I personally thought it was incredible since I love the rebab and bağlama and all the other traditional instruments featured therein. Its strong focus on music as a side-effect of the main character being blind is really what makes it so immersive.