HOUSE IS BLACK / THE SCHOOL THAT WAS BLOWN AWAY / IMAGES FROM THE QAJAR DYNASTY - DVD review

"There is no shortage of ugliness in the world.
If man closed his eyes to it, there would be even more."

These are the opening lines from "The House is Black," a 22-minute black and white Iranian documentary shot in 1962. I can already sense you clicking on to the next review but you shouldn't because "The House is Black" is also one of the greatest short films ever made. All I ask of you is a few minutes of your time to allow me to explain why.

Chances are you've never heard of Forough Farrokzhad, unless you're from Iran. Farrokzhad was a famous (and infamous) poet and feminist icon in Iran in the 1950s and 1960s. One of the only female voices on the Iranian literary scene, she made waves both with her powerful poetry and her own controversial lifestyle. She wore lipstick and short skirts. She divorced her husband at a young age, and above all never hesitated to speak openly and honestly. Her poetry was intensely personal and also frank about sexual matters, and both factors made her the target for much criticism. Even in the increasingly Westernized regime of the Shah of Iran, she was considered scandalous. Hailed as a great artist by some and branded a whore by others, one thing everyone could agree on at the time; they sure knew who she was. It's probably difficult for Americans to believe a poet could be a superstar, but poetry still holds a central place in Iranian culture.

In 1962, she wrote and directed "The House is Black," a short documentary about a leper colony near Tabriz in Azerbaijan. The term "documentary" probably conjures up certain expectations on your part that are nowhere near accurate. As you might expect from Farrokzhad, "The House is Black" is a poem first, a non-fiction report second (if at all.)

I've only had the DVD for five days and I've already watched the film six times, yet I still struggle to describe the film. Perhaps I should start by relating some of the most memorable images from this insistently beautiful film. The film opens with a shot of a woman staring in the mirror at her leprous face, only her eyes visible. One eye looks more or less "normal" while the other is ravaged by the disease. The film has warned us this first image will be ugly, but is it? The camera holds as these piercing eyes simply stare; at the face in the mirror, at us, at infinity perhaps.

Another image, maybe the most powerful in the film. A leper walks along the side of a building which is framed in diagonal perspective. He walks towards the camera slowly then turns back and walks the other way. Farrokzhad speaks off-camera, merely reciting the days of the week: Saturday, Sunday, Monday… right on back to Saturday and through to the next week all while holding on this unbroken shot. Time collapses. Has the man been walking up and down this building for just a few minutes or forever?

I've changed my mind. There's another image I think is the most memorable. There are two girls. The one in the background combs the other's hair. The girl in the foreground smiles and her face lights up. I want to cry, more so each time I watch it, though I don't know quite why. It's not from sadness and not from joy either – it's something more sublime that I can't express in words.

And I'm glad I can't, because "The House is Black" holds a power that transcends language, even though much of that power comes from Farrokzhad's poetry. More important than her words is the lilting, musical quality of her voice. Watching this film, I wonder if the only way to truly enjoy poetry in a "pure" sense is to listen to it in a language I don't speak, simply letting the sounds wash over me, sounds that resist meaning. Silence is just as important as poetry in this film. The soundtrack often goes quiet or features just a single, isolated sound; a rusty wheel on a wheelbarrow, the squeaky pedals on an exercise bike, etc. The effect is both haunting and beautiful. There are images and sounds in this film that I will never forget, and that I never want to forget.

Film has different uses for different people. For many viewers, film is primarily an escape or entertainment; a perfectly valid use for the medium. Another function of cinema, one which becomes more important to me all the time, is its ability to show us people, places, and cultures we would never otherwise see. Keeping that in mind, I note that Facets releases "The House is Black" on DVD at a very interesting time in history, for at least two reasons.

The first is the recent emergence of a film movement now generally referred to as the "Iranian New Wave." Whether the Iranian new wave is really a single movement or just a convenient way for Westerners to refer to a group of films from several different Iranian filmmakers can be debated, but there's little doubt about the vitality of the cinema which has emerged from Iran in the past few decades. Abbas Kiarostami and Mohsen Makhmalbaf are generally considered the leaders of the New Wave; at least they're the most successful on the international art-house circuit.

Both directors consider Farrokzhad, and "The House is Black," a primary influence on their work. This influence is best seen in Kiarostami's 1999 masterpiece "The Wind Will Carry Us," also the title of a Farrokzhad poem. In a pivotal scene, the main character enters a darkened a room in which a woman shrouded in darkness reads the poem in its entirety. Kiarostami didn't have to explain to Iranian viewers why the words were powerful; they were powerful because they were Farrokzhad's words

The second reason, of course, is the possibility of war looming between the United States and Iran. We see so little of this country halfway across the globe that it's easy to dismiss it as somewhat unreal or at least only half-real, seen only in decontextualized clips on CNN or Fox. That makes it much easier to say "Let's bomb ‘em all back to the stone age!" "They" aren't real to us anyway. I suggest that cinema can remedy this situation, at least partially. Watch a Kiarostami film, watch a Makhmalbaf film, watch "The House is Black" and then let's see if anyone can still say that.

I first read about "The House is Black" in an essay by Jonathan Rosenbaum, the critic for the Chicago Reader and my choice for the best critic in the business. It sounded wonderful, but I always figured it would remain one of those elusive, unseen gems. Besides, it could never live up to Rosenbaum's praise. Now it's on DVD, partially due to the efforts of Rosenbaum (showing that a critic really can make a difference) and I've gotten the chance to see it. As you've figured out by now, I wasn't disappointed.

Farrokzhad died tragically in a car accident at the age of 33, but she left behind both her poetry and this unique film. "The House is Black" is a masterpiece of world cinema. As a great short documentary, it deserves a place of honor alongside "Land Without Bread" or "Night and Fog." How can a film about a leper colony, a film that warns us it is about ugliness, be so beautiful? I don't know; that's the magic of film, at least of this film. I can't explain it any better than that. Just do yourself a favor, just see it. I promise you won't forget the experience.

Video:

The DVD is presented in fullscreen 1.33:1 ratio. As you might guess, this print wasn't preserved in pristine condition. The film has scratches and dirt on it, but the beauty of the black and white photography still shows admirably. The white subtitles are sometimes difficult to read against the higher contrast backdrops, but you don't have to strain too badly. There's at least one shot (a few seconds) missing, probably from a censor's scissors. We're used to nearly perfect transfers from many DVD companies; what we have here is the best copy available in the U.S. and that's all we can ask for.

Audio:

The DVD is presented in a mono track (the package skimps on all the technical information.) The sound is rough in patches but that actually seems to help the experience, especially in the quieter scenes. English subtitles support the audio.

Extras:

The DVD also includes two short films (26 min. total running time) by Mohsen Makhmalbaf, "The School That Was Blown Away" (1996) and the "Images from the Qajar Dynasty" (1992). The first is a neat little feature about a group of schoolchildren who go to school in a tent after their school was blown away. The second requires a little knowledge of Iranian history (more than I have) to fully appreciate. It's a compilation film which includes the very first scenes ever filmed in Iran. It becomes increasingly more abstract and poetic as it continues and the ending is both enigmatic and lovely.

There is also a short interview with Forough's sister Pooran, an excerpt from a longer PBS documentary. It's interesting but we only get a few minutes which left me rather frustrated. Maybe the full program will be made available elsewhere.

A no-frills Xeroxed booklet includes several very informative essays by Rosenbaum, Chris Marker and Susan Doll.

Closing Thoughts:

I could probably take up another twenty pages analyzing the film shot by shot, trying to understand what makes it so effective. Instead, I'll rest my case as is and hope that you decide to take a chance on something very different and, I believe, very rewarding.