Atabai
Niki Karimi is one of the most powerful and versatile artists in Iranian cinema, though she remains little known outside Iran. In 1990, she started her career as an actress and became one of the country’s top movie stars working with many leading directors there (including Dariush Mehrjui whose “Sara” and “Pari” feature two of her best performances). She made her directorial debut with the infertility documentary “To Have or Not to Have” in 2001.
Since then, she has directed five more feature films while keeping up a busy acting schedule an impressive accomplishment in Iran’s male-dominated film industry. Moreover, she is a recognized translator and talented photographer (she has translated Marlon Brando’s autobiography into Farsi among other works by Hanif Kureishi).
This latest dramatic feature by Karimi called “Atabai,” which received significant international distribution unlike any of her previous ones (though they all played at many festivals), demonstrates both skillfulness and ambition as a director. It showcases several dazzling performances plus some of the most beautiful cinematography ever seen in recent Iranian movies; but it also deals forcefully with what may be considered a uniquely difficult dramatic subject: male subjectivity.
Kazem is the protagonist of this film; he seems like a powder keg ready to explode at any moment even if he is regarded as a pillar within his community. The first time we encounter Kazem he has just returned from Thailand to his small city in northwestern Iran where people do not travel abroad that much except for religious pilgrimages why did he leave? No answer will be given by the movie but hints about Kazem’s life and relations suggest that it was only one among many psychic release valves.
An architect cum developer who builds holiday houses for urbanites in their picturesque native region, Kazem cannot forget two women who have disappointed him greatly. One happened to be his sister that committed suicide after being married off to an elderly rich landowner; for long Kazem has believed that the girl set herself ablaze because of her unhappy marriage but such assumption will be debunked as events unfold.
The other female figure still alive in his mind is a lady he fell in love with during college years spent at Tehran. Despite finding her incredibly attractive, he did not dare initiate any romantic liaison due to constant mockery by fellow students who took him for granted as an unsophisticated yokel from upcountry they laughed at his looks, accent, everything, Kazem remembers this incident long after it happened and describes these taunts as having left deep wounds which evidently remain unhealed.
On the male side of things concerning Kazem’s relations, Aydin (Danial Noroush), son left behind by Kazem’s late sister, has now grown into a lively rebellious teenager looking up to his uncle with great admiration while also bearing brunt of uncle’s frequent mood swings. Kazem loves the boy but his attempts to act like surrogate father bring back memories of what was done to him by own dad (Yousefali Daryadel) now an old man addicted to opium whose view on family problems seems tinged with ironic detachment.
The opposite weighty male in Kazem’s circle is Yahya (Javad Ezati), an old buddy who has one of the greatest scenes in the movie with him. Out in a rural area, they light an old tire on fire and push it down a hill, then get drunk (implied, since drinking is not allowed to be shown in Iranian cinema) and talk through concealed problems and feelings from their past; it’s basically a conversation that allows some secrets to escape.
This scene is “uniquely Iranian,” says an Iranian critic I was emailing with about the film having Iranian men spill their guts to one another is something that happens often enough in Iran’s movies for there to be a cliche about it. The critic explains that this is because such fiercely intimate interactions between men and women are effectively banned by the country’s censors, so all sex-related exchanges have to be carried out indirectly.
That means the most meaningful silences are those which pass between men talking about women. Here too: While Kazem can’t help telling Yahya exactly how he feels about everything, he once again cannot tell any woman what he feels for her when he meets Sima (Sahar Dolatshahi), a cancer survivor who will leave for Tehran unless he talks her out of it.
Based on an idea by Niki Karimi, who also co-wrote the script with Hadi Hejazifar (the actor who plays Kazem), “Atabai” has novelistic depth in its characterization this movie is populated by people whose love lives could fill volumes of literature. Most deeply felt among these narratives belongs obviously enough to Kazem himself; no matter how much rage this man has, it only comes from love being denied him not just romantic love either but familial as well.
Using voiceovers by Kazem (an unusual device for Iranian cinema), the film cuts into its protagonist’s guilt, regret, lust and hope like a scalpel. The result is a portrait of a man whose deepest dissatisfactions seem emblematic of an entire culture’s.
One thing making “Atabai” unusual is that the language spoken in it isn’t Farsi but Turkish which is the tongue of Iranian Azerbaijan, where the story takes place. (In a symbolic sense, one might suggest that this setting represents a fusion between Iranian cinema’s two biggest influences: Kiarostami and Ceylan.)
The town we see here is Khoi, Hejazifar’s home and also Shams’ burial place; Shams being Rumi’s mentor. Essentially what happens then is that these surroundings and their natural wonders including rapidly vanishing Lake Urmia become additional characters within the movie, and they are beautifully shot by Saman Lotfian.
The name “Atabai” means something like “strong man” or “big hearted person,” and it’s what people around Kazem call him. But as usual with honorifics in this film, there turns out to be nothing behind the title for our damaged hero; if there are any accolades going around here they should all go to Niki Karimi for this sharp look at masculine fragility.
Watch Atabai For Free On Gomovies.