lunedì 1 giugno 2020

White Meadows - Mohammad Rasoulof

Rahman è un raccoglitore di lacrime, e gira di isola in isola per fare il suo lavoro.
non compra le lacrime, le situazioni della vita gli permettono di ottenerle.
non comanda niente, forse qualcuno è più in alto di lui.
Rahman è come una specie di Ulisse che gira di isola in isola, conosciuto, rispettato, atteso.
svolge qualche ruolo in quelle comunità, trasporta persone morte o indesiderate, e osserva cose terribili,
quelle isole sembrano vivere in preda a volontà oscure, e la libertà non esiste.
qualcuno vuole vedere una critica sociale all'oscurantismo, e alla situazione politica del suo paese, che apre le porte delle galere a intellettuali come lui.
se me lo chiedono io sono uno di quelli.
il film è bellissimo e terribile, e Mohammad Rasoulof sta nell'Olimpo dei eegisti di serie A, se non guardate i suoi film non sapere cosa vi perdete - Ismaele




QUI il film completo, con sottotitoli in inglese


The White Meadows can be seen as an allegory to the current political regime of Iran, nonetheless the message conveyed by it is universal. The characters of the film could stand as the prototypes of a disutopian Platonic state. Rahman, the main character, remains an illegible until the very end of the film. The rules of his profession are simple. He wanders like a country-side doctor ,to places where people are mourning, collecting their tears, unaffected by the plights of his patients. During the film, one might try in vain to find the driving elements of his behavior. The laymen of this society appear to be fearful and extremely concerned with their own superstitions to have any critical thought. A little renegade who represents the curious, passionate and adventurous mind and an artist who sees the world differently from his fellows are sacrificed in a setting that could be inspired by ancient Greek tragedy. The director was actually arrested along with Panahi on the 1st of March 2010.
In my humble view, Rasoulof, in his 37,has directed a masterpiece of utmost intricacy and aesthetic value. His work is one of those destined to reside in our memory for a long time. Thus, I hope that the White Meadows will find their way to the movie theaters, our memories and ultimately film history . In the meanwhile, I hope that Rasoulof will continue to deliver us great films and to ameliorate his artistic language, despite the difficulties encountered in his homeland.

Rowing between these and other sorrowful gatherings is Rahmat (Hasan Pourshirazi), a grave, middle-aged traveler always ready with a glass jar to gently scoop up the people’s tears. Is he a mythical guide? Communal healer? Silent witness to a catalog of veiled yet unmistakable forms of oppression? A fiercely compassionate call for freedom, the film features downright tangible sensory dimensions: The sky’s infinite color and the ocean’s saline taste are integral elements of the narrative, never more so than in the sequence of the painter being painfully “treated” for his unorthodox canvases—Rasoulof’s most personal portrait of the responsibilities and dangers of a questioning artist.

The film could be seen as a generally pessimistic view of man’s continual surrender to simple superstitious beliefs.  But there is a special emphasis here on shared guilt.  On all the islands, the people feel they are guilty and seek remission of their sins via some superstitious ritual, often at the expense of the weak and defenseless.  Innocent women are punished on the first and third islands, the innocent dwarf is sacrificed on the second island, and free artistic expression is denied on the fourth island.  The people on these islands who carry out the atrocities are basically innocent, too, since they sincerely believe in the superstitions that drive them to cruel acts.  There is clearly something wrong with the system governing these local societies (as was the case in Iron Island, too), but any references to the Iranian government system seem to be obscure, at best.  The idea of the jinn hiding in the well for three hundred years may compare with some accounts of the Islamic Shiite belief that the long-awaited Mahdi was hidden in a well. In addition, some viewers have suggested that the washing of the old man’s feet at the end of the film connotes extreme and pointless obeisance to an ayatollah who is unmindful of the common needs
...Skeptics might argue that Rasoulof has merely mindlessly thrown together these provocative symbols in the fashion of Alejandro Jodorowski.  But there is enough subtlety of expression here to suggest otherwise and that there is some method to the madness.  Overall, I would say that the visual presentation of The White Meadows is haunting and even gripping at times.  The viewer is plunged into an austere and evolving nightmare.  But the individual episodes do not appear to represent any narrative progression – they could have come in any order.  And at the end of the film, the final images do not provide a dramatic denouement, but are merely deflating.  Nevertheless, the film is memorable, and Rasoulof’s eery and disturbing portrayal of how blind superstition can be ultimately cruel and destructive is a testament to his own commitment to free expression.

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