Hey, everyone. "Moriarty" here with some Rumblings From The Lab.
Copernicus was always one of my favorite guys in Austin when I first visited there, and I was bummed when I missed him during a recent trip to LA. As a result, it was a pleasant surprise to find a review from him in the inbox today, and since I’ve never heard of the film he’s discussing, I’ll leave it to him to set it up for you:
Don’t let the title “Black Tape: A Tehran Diary (the Videotape Fariborz Kamkari Found In the Garbage)” fool you – though it seems that way, this movie is no accidentally discovered video diary. As much as the rational side of my brain knew that, the more primal hemisphere would not let me believe that this is all fiction – a skillfully crafted feature by Fariborz Kamkari. Kamkari uses video verité to perfection, sucking us into the struggles of an 18 year old Iranian woman, Galavije, making us believe that what we are watching is the video diary of a year of her life. The film won the top prize at Cinequest this year – the Maverick Spirit Award.
The most similar movie to BLACK TAPE, in form, if not subject matter is THE BLAIR WITCH PROJECT. Both movies share the conceit that a tape has been found chronicling the lives of people that became trapped in terrifying situations. In the case of BLAIR WITCH, three students can’t escape the evil presence deep in the woods mainly because they are idiots. But BLACK TAPE chronicles a far more horrifying scenario – that of a young Iranian woman that can’t escape the evil presence of her torturing, abusive husband because society gives her no options of escape.
The first few minutes on the tape show a merchant trying to sell to someone the video camera that serve as our eyes into this world. Quickly we learn that the camera has been sold to Parviz, and he is giving it to his wife, Galavije on her 18th birthday. Through his taping of her party we see singing, celebrating... and vomiting. Apparently birthday parties in Iran are very similar to birthday parties in the US. Still, the scene is interesting all the same for the minor cultural differences: the exotic music, the dancing of the guests, the aftermath of someone letting their insides loose on the carpet. Despite unfamiliar cultural territory, even the American viewer can tell that something is awry. While Galavije is sometimes caught under the spell of her husband, smiling at his charm, sometimes she swings into violent rebellion for seemingly no reason.
We catch little glimpses of Galavije’s life whenever she happens to turn on the camera. The framing is off, people are out of sometimes out of focus, and the lighting can be terrible. The imperfect strokes paint what feels like a far truer picture of life than any conventionally shot movie could. Splendidly, the content of the movie matches the form – it is free from character arcs and cinema conventions that would spoil the verité illusion. Instead, we get a patchwork of scenes captured seemingly at random over the course of a year. Only slowly do we learn the horrifying truth – that Galavije was sold to Parviz as a young teenager to be his sex slave and wife. Now she is trapped, both physically and psychologically, and all efforts to escape seem futile.
If this were a TV movie of the week, we would expect to see caricatures of the abusive husband and the victim-of-circumstances wife. She would face ever-escalating humiliation until she reaches the breaking point when she snaps and takes charge of her life. Fortunately, BLACK TAPE is far more nuanced, real, and therefore more disturbing. At times, Galavije leads an almost-normal life, laughing and enjoying herself with her husband or her parents. At other times she is cut off from the outside world – the phones removed, her letters monitored, and her contact with outsiders restricted. When her parents disappear she starts to rebel, but just when we think she is going to escape, she can’t. Where could she go, where could she hide if she got away?
Galavije is a victim, but not a helpless victim – she does take action. I won’t give away what happens, but the last 30 minutes of the movie are brilliant, if gruesome. Somehow, the filmmakers affect you while letting you see almost none of the action on screen – you are seeing the events unfold through a hidden camera inside a bag pointing almost the wrong direction. It is the sounds that you hear, amplified by inescapable fear that what you are seeing is a documentary rather than a fictional movie that is so unsettling. The COPS-like anti-cinematography throughout the movie serves as the setup that delivers the huge payoff in the final act. At the end, I felt like someone slugged me in the gut. And having celluloid do that to you is what seeing a movie is all about.
One of the most harrowing films I sat through in all of 2002 was TWO WOMEN, an Iranian film that got the female director sentenced to death for its unflinching (if admittedly melodramatic) look at the way a strong woman is slowly broken by the social structure of Iran. I remember sitting in that theater, furious and horrified and heartbroken all at once. Sounds like BLACK TAPE had much the same effect on you, buddy, and I’ll definitely keep my eyes out for this one.
As always, thanks for writing.
"Moriarty" out.
