Samira Makhmalbaf's third feature, and the first film to be shot in Afghanistan post-Taliban, is another remarkable piece of work from one of world cinema's brightest talents.
Although less of a stunningly assured surprise than her debut, THE APPLE, and less obviously an allegory of political struggle than the magnificent BLACKBOARDS, AT 5 IN THE AFTERNOON concentrates instead on one young woman's situation in a country torn by oppression and war.
Despite her marginalised status, Noqreh remains fiercely ambitious and determined to overcome the suffocating strictures of a society clearly unready and unwilling to countenance the advancement of women. However, the film's winning central protagonist, a young Afghani woman called Noqreh, is determinedly optimistic in spite of all evidence to the contrary.
Ms. Makhmalbaf shows an acute sense of telling observation in the scenes of her (almost equally!) young protagonist's attempts to fulfil her aspirations and desires; the fact that the country is Afghanistan makes no difference to the impact and the universality of the age-old themes of love, hope and family duty.
Noqreh, played with total conviction and a charming lack of self-absorbtion by the beautiful Agheleh Rezaee, is repeatedly shot exchanging her traditional burka clothng and flat, characterless slippers, for white, high-heeled shoes, earrings and more colourful dress, a beautiful, simple and richly symbolic gesture of rejection of male-imposed values and tradition.
The director also demonstrates a subtle understanding of the family ties that bind her heroine, refusing to opt for the obvious demonisation of Noqreh's fearsome father in favour of a more balanced yet powerfully resonant portrayal of a difficult relationship. And Makhmalbaf closes this marvellous film with a brave coda: after Noqreh's father has insisted they flee Kabul for the safety of the desert, the prospects look bleak. Yet we have seen more than enough evidence of Noqreh's independent, stubborn refusal to give up on her dreams to feel far more optimistic than the stark imagery suggests.
Brilliant film-making from a director of both style and substance and a film not to be missed.
One of the first films to be made in post-Taliban Afghanistan follows the plight of Noqreh, a progressive young woman trying to school herself in spite of her father's proscriptions. Both old and new generations find themselves victims of a tragic historical situation in a ravaged country.
At Five in the Afternoon is the latest release from the celebrated House of Makhmalbaf, Iran’s remarkable family of film-makers. Samira Makhmalbaf was just 18 when he... more >
At Five in the Afternoon is the latest release from the celebrated House of Makhmalbaf, Iran’s remarkable family of film-makers. Samira Makhmalbaf was just 18 when her directorial debut, The Apple, was internationally acclaimed in 1998. Her father, Mohsen, who served as and writer and editor on the project, was credited with much of its success, but it is clear Samira is at least as driven as he is, and that her work is very much her own. Indeed, At Five in the Afternoon shows a definite development of the style and sensibility that she brought to The Apple.
An indictment of the oppression that still faces women in post-Taliban Afghanistan, At Five has an intuitive humanity that complements its heartfelt polemic. The film follows Noqreh, an ambitious student, from her eagerness to take advantage of the mooted freedoms of her newly-liberated country to the stark realisation that she remains trapped, not just by the devastated landscape but also by its ongoing traditions.
Noqreh’s aspirational spirit is sublimely evoked by Makhmalbaf. A pair of white, high-heeled shoes serves as a playful leitmotif for her unleashed femininity and ambition – she dons them at every opportunity, and you sometimes feel she might click them together like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz. But Kabul’s dusty roads do not lead to any cathartic revelation; indeed, the journey is not destined for a happy ending.
The visual assurance displayed in At Five certainly belies the age of its director, who extracts a painterly beauty from the crowd shots, with their seas of female faces wrapped in pale blue Berkas. At other times, the use of non-professional actors gives a primitive feel to the film. But if this combination of rawness and design points to a new film culture in its infancy, then this in itself is optimistic. < less
