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Notes about notes.
Sep. 6th, 2011 09:32 pmAs we draw nearer to next weekend's terror-ible anniversary, and the flags and yellow ribbons continue their inevitable march into our consciousness, my bride and I shared a filmed experience over the past two nights which reminded me just how close we are to our supposedly mortal enemies- both in my life and on the far right.
The film's titled No One Knows About Persian Cats- which, I didn't realize, is a reference to the fact (which I had not previously known) that cats are considered just as bannable in Iran's Islamic society as are dogs. The film shows a scary scene where a friendly, slobbery and fully vaccinated pup gets confiscated by the armed agents of the mullahs on account of some likely misinterpreted piece of Koran from 900 years ago. The rest of the film shows mostly young musicians struggling to have their sounds and presences felt in, and beyond, a musical community that considers even asexual lyrics about place, and restlessness, and class to be practically fatwa-worthy.
The film- perhaps best captured in its stories of the film and of its "making-of" in this review- was acted and directed in 17 days of mostly undercover filming in Tehran, and was cowritten by the director's fiancee, at the time of its release still an Iranian political prisoner. So much of what you see reminds you that your so-called mortal enemies are, in fact, just people that you meet, when you're walking down the street, they're people who think, and write, and sing, and play just like you and me.
If anything, the current crop of Repugnicandidates have far more in common with the Ayatollahs than they do with these musicians- who risked everything for the sake of their art and, in several cases shown here (as well as several in the real lives of the performers), who lost those bets.
Some of the songs were in Persian, but most of them were in English. The notes on the sheet music for all of them were the same, however. Both our society and theirs could learn from that.
The film's titled No One Knows About Persian Cats- which, I didn't realize, is a reference to the fact (which I had not previously known) that cats are considered just as bannable in Iran's Islamic society as are dogs. The film shows a scary scene where a friendly, slobbery and fully vaccinated pup gets confiscated by the armed agents of the mullahs on account of some likely misinterpreted piece of Koran from 900 years ago. The rest of the film shows mostly young musicians struggling to have their sounds and presences felt in, and beyond, a musical community that considers even asexual lyrics about place, and restlessness, and class to be practically fatwa-worthy.
The film- perhaps best captured in its stories of the film and of its "making-of" in this review- was acted and directed in 17 days of mostly undercover filming in Tehran, and was cowritten by the director's fiancee, at the time of its release still an Iranian political prisoner. So much of what you see reminds you that your so-called mortal enemies are, in fact, just people that you meet, when you're walking down the street, they're people who think, and write, and sing, and play just like you and me.
If anything, the current crop of Repugnicandidates have far more in common with the Ayatollahs than they do with these musicians- who risked everything for the sake of their art and, in several cases shown here (as well as several in the real lives of the performers), who lost those bets.
Some of the songs were in Persian, but most of them were in English. The notes on the sheet music for all of them were the same, however. Both our society and theirs could learn from that.