Rating: 5/5
Criterion Challenge 2022 | 26/52 | Made in Iran
Hossain Farazmand, a journalist for Sorush magazine, leaves the police station with two officers. In the taxi, Farazmand relays to the taxi driver the unusual story of Hossain Sabzian, who has been impersonating Iranian director Mohsen Makhmalbaf. According to Farazman, Sabzian, who is acting as Makhmalbaf, hired a family to be actors and set up their house as the filming location for his next film. No one knows why Sabzian is doing this—is he stealing from the family? Farazmand thinks this could be an international story, so they will arrest him and get the details.
When they arrive at the gated home, Farazmand goes in alone so as not to spook Sabzian. The father of the family, Abolfazl Ahankhah, comes out with his formal complaint to the officers, and they go in to arrest Sabzian. The police come out with Sabzian in cuffs, Farazmand getting several photos. The cab drives ahead to the police station. Farazmand then goes knocking door-to-door to see if anyone has a tape recorder—if he can’t get Sabzain’s story on tape, what’s the point? After much searching, he finally nabs one and runs to the police station.
“Bogus Makhmalbaf Arrested.” So reads the headline in Sorush, which intrigues filmmaker Abbas Kiarostami. Kiarostami goes to the prison to get more details—where the Ahankhah house is, what kind of person Sabzian is, and so on. Kiarostami then interviews Abolfazl and Mahrokh Ahankhah, who seem to feel like they had a handle on Sabzian before Farazmand showed up. And so Kiarostami brings us into his metafiction surrounding the events.
The film is based on actual events, and everyone in it plays themselves. Many scenes are reenactments that set up the actual trial, which Kiarostami also filmed for this movie. Kiarostami may have filmed interviews as they occurred, or they could be reenactments of interviews that Kiarostami conducted (especially with the Ahankhahs, who seem apprehensive of Kiarostami’s intentions despite appearing earlier in the film).
Kiarostami became interested in Sabzian because Sabzian was a self-proclaimed film lover. Sure enough, when Kiarostami visited him in prison, Sabzian was familiar with Kiarostami’s work and surprised that he would take an interest in him.
In learning Sabzian’s story, we understand why he plays a different director instead of being one himself: he was born into a social class that would never offer him the opportunity. A filmmaker may speak for his class like Makhmalbaf’s The Cyclist did for Sabzian. But despite Sabzian’s ambitions, it could only ever be a performance. This film allowed him to play that role with a camera.
Despite all these meta-layers, the film is surprisingly simple in its structure. It isn’t trying to fool you—it only asks you to question the mechanisms and artificiality of the filmmaking process. Hossain Sabzian happens to be the perfect vehicle for this conversation.
The final scene is such an incredible moment. I was tearing up throughout.