Drift Reality

After watching the Children of Heaven a few months ago, and being engaged throughout the film’s entirety I realized a couple of things: First, that there is no correlation between a film’s budget and the overall quality of that film. Second, I realized that I was becoming a fan of Persian films and in particular of Majid Majidi.

So it was with a fair degree of excitement that I plunked down and watched The Color of Paradise this past weekend.

Several hours later I was moping around with a heavy heart, feeling borderline depressed.

Not because The Color of Paradise was a bad movie but because it somehow managed to elicit such a depth of emotion - an imposing sense of sympathy and compassion for the film’s characters.

The plot revolves around Mohammad, a young blind boy who is studying at a school for the blind in Tehran. The semester is over and all the children are picked up by their parents - except for Mohammad, whose Father is late. While he waits, Mohammad hears a baby bird who has fallen from its tree. Despite his handicap, Mohammad locates the helpless creature and manages to return it to its nest.

As he waits, Mohammad’s Father turns up and we soon learn that he is ashamed by his crippled son and desperate to rid himself of what he feels to be a constraining force on his life. Mohammad’s Father is an archetype we have seen in a number of Majidi’s films - a middle-aged man who has been beaten down by life, full of anger and bitterness. After an unsuccessful plea to the school’s teachers to keep Mohammad at the school, he grudgingly returns with Mohammad to their village in the country.

In their village, Mohammad’s Grandmother and two sisters happily await his return and shower him with love and affection (that is absent from his negligent Father). The village is an idyllic scene and Mohammad spends his first days back enjoying the beautiful environs of his village while frolicking with his sisters and spending time with his Grandmother.

Trouble is brewing however, as Mohammed’s Father contemplates the best way to rid himself of Mohammad so he can pursue a widow in his village without the “constraints” of his handicapped son. He eventually finds a blind carpenter who is willing to let Mohammad apprentice under him.

In defiance to Mohammad and his Grandmother’s wishes, Mohammad’s Father takes him to live and apprentice under the blind carpenter. In a heartbreaking tearful monologue (a motif in Majidi’s films) delivered to the blind carpenter, Mohammad laments his handicap and affirms his love for God.

At that point in the film I just about turned off the television and went to cry in the bathroom but managed to suck it up and watch the rest of the film, only to find that it actually gets more emotional and heartbreaking.

By the end of the film (the ending is magnificent) I was ready to pledge a majority of my earnings to blind children in Iran. As a matter of fact, if you feel like donating money after watching the film to help Iranian children then you can go to the Iranian Children’s Rights Society Web site and make a donation.

At any rate, the film was simply incredible. It made me feel and think in a way that no cultural product has been able to do for a long while. Interestingly enough, I went and saw Atonement later that day and found it to be boring and trite in comparison (despite the fact that its budget probably was exponentially higher).

Watching The Color of Paradise is an experience you will not soon forget.