Movie Review: Afghan Star
09/16/2009 23:38
I
find it difficult to comprehend what it would be like
to live in a place like Afghanistan. There are too
many things that I take for granted in my daily life;
I forget that in other places the reality of life
might yield a different experience on almost every
level. Afghanistan is just one of those mystery spots
to me, and so much can be learned, I think, from
observing its struggles; for the past thirty years
the country has been a virtual controlled lab
experiment in seeing how much the human spirit can
endure and yet still persevere.
Though never a model of political stability, in 1979, and even in the early ’80s, the country showed signs of becoming a fairly progressive Muslim society. Women openly attended Universities in Western dress, heads uncovered, and in larger urban areas, young people enjoyed a nightlife that was also decidedly outside the confines of Sharia law. Though I doubt they approached Western levels of decadence, men and women danced and mingled in nightclubs to music created by Afghani pop bands who might think nothing of putting a sexy female out front as lead vocalist.
Then came the Soviet invasion, a decade of war, more fighting in the aftermath, political turmoil, land mines claiming victims long after the war was over, all culminating in the rise of the Taliban during which, it seems, just about anything a human might normally do was proscribed under penalty of death; and perhaps most baffling of these rules was the prohibition on music. I mean, how do you ban music? The urge to create and enjoy music — celebratory, spiritual, expressions of love, longing or mourning, even singing at labor to help pass the time — has got to be one of the most basic impulses in all of human nature.
So in 2004, with the Taliban driven out and a new government formed, it is perhaps not surprising that one of the first items on the agenda was to lift the ban on music and dancing. Television, which had also been banned under the Taliban, is also permitted once more, and a pair of bright media entrepreneurs, Daoud Sediqi and Massoud Sanjer, see a music program as being not only their ticket to broadcast glory, but also possibly being the only method of uniting tribal factions so numerous you will run out of breath before you can utter them all.
Such is the world of AFGHAN STAR, a powerful documentary that provides an eye-opening view of a culture far removed from our own, but also reminds us that people, in spite of their culture, are basically the same breed of animal no matter where you go.
Sediqi and Sanjer create a TV show obviously modeled after American Idol. After a countrywide search — in one city, we are told, hundreds of men and even three women turn out for the audition — The final selection of ten contestants vie for the title of Afghan Star, and a lofty cash prize of $5,000 (that’s five THOUSAND dollars), with the winner to be determined by phone-in votes from around the country.
The show is an instant hit, but the story is not as simple as that. In spite of the way things were before, thirty years of war and a series of varying degrees of hard line fundamentalism have left an entire generation with that largely as their reality; so when one of the female contestants throws a couple of modest dance moves into her act, the two producers quickly learn that culturally speaking, rolling the clock back to 1979 might not be as easy as they had thought. Can the show unite the country, as the producers hope? If it is even allowed to continue to the final broadcast, that will perhaps be a modest enough victory in the struggle for change.
I found watching the story unfold to be fascinating and enlightening. You forget how rich a country like America is until you see the production team in Kabul cobbling together broadcast equipment from spare parts and assorted cables. The series’ entire budget looks like it would be equal to any half-hour of just one American Idol episode.
But the thing I will probably remember most from the film is the female contestant, Setara, she of the scandalous head bop and hip sway that threatens to bring the show crashing down. In 1979, her antics wouldn’t have raised an eyebrow; in post-war Afghanistan, they bring death threats and scandal. Outraged war lords take to their podiums to bemoan the blood of martyrs strewn on the sand and rocks.
I found Setara’s sunny, almost naive, belief that she can single-handedly lead women to the path of equality, to be completely endearing but also cause for alarm, knowing what trouble she might be bringing on herself. But sing she must, and, if the feeling moves her, dance she must! And her dancing really is so modest and charming that it only makes it more endearing for her idea that she is being bold and daring.
But then again, context is everything. Her moves, though modest, really are daring, she knows she’s flaunting convention though I think she underestimates the full impact of her actions; and when an angry viewer on the street states baldly, to the approving nods of listeners, that “She should die” it is a powerful reminder that in spite of all our similarities as a species, there do sometimes remain enormous gulfs to cross cultural understanding. She should die? She should… die??? By what process of logic does a person reach such a conclusion? She should die?
Entertaining and educational, with glimpses of humanity that can be endearing and also baffling, AFGHAN STAR is a powerful snapshot of a corner of the world little known or suspected by Americans, and it provides myriad topics for post-screening discussion.
Though never a model of political stability, in 1979, and even in the early ’80s, the country showed signs of becoming a fairly progressive Muslim society. Women openly attended Universities in Western dress, heads uncovered, and in larger urban areas, young people enjoyed a nightlife that was also decidedly outside the confines of Sharia law. Though I doubt they approached Western levels of decadence, men and women danced and mingled in nightclubs to music created by Afghani pop bands who might think nothing of putting a sexy female out front as lead vocalist.
Then came the Soviet invasion, a decade of war, more fighting in the aftermath, political turmoil, land mines claiming victims long after the war was over, all culminating in the rise of the Taliban during which, it seems, just about anything a human might normally do was proscribed under penalty of death; and perhaps most baffling of these rules was the prohibition on music. I mean, how do you ban music? The urge to create and enjoy music — celebratory, spiritual, expressions of love, longing or mourning, even singing at labor to help pass the time — has got to be one of the most basic impulses in all of human nature.
So in 2004, with the Taliban driven out and a new government formed, it is perhaps not surprising that one of the first items on the agenda was to lift the ban on music and dancing. Television, which had also been banned under the Taliban, is also permitted once more, and a pair of bright media entrepreneurs, Daoud Sediqi and Massoud Sanjer, see a music program as being not only their ticket to broadcast glory, but also possibly being the only method of uniting tribal factions so numerous you will run out of breath before you can utter them all.
Such is the world of AFGHAN STAR, a powerful documentary that provides an eye-opening view of a culture far removed from our own, but also reminds us that people, in spite of their culture, are basically the same breed of animal no matter where you go.
Sediqi and Sanjer create a TV show obviously modeled after American Idol. After a countrywide search — in one city, we are told, hundreds of men and even three women turn out for the audition — The final selection of ten contestants vie for the title of Afghan Star, and a lofty cash prize of $5,000 (that’s five THOUSAND dollars), with the winner to be determined by phone-in votes from around the country.
The show is an instant hit, but the story is not as simple as that. In spite of the way things were before, thirty years of war and a series of varying degrees of hard line fundamentalism have left an entire generation with that largely as their reality; so when one of the female contestants throws a couple of modest dance moves into her act, the two producers quickly learn that culturally speaking, rolling the clock back to 1979 might not be as easy as they had thought. Can the show unite the country, as the producers hope? If it is even allowed to continue to the final broadcast, that will perhaps be a modest enough victory in the struggle for change.
I found watching the story unfold to be fascinating and enlightening. You forget how rich a country like America is until you see the production team in Kabul cobbling together broadcast equipment from spare parts and assorted cables. The series’ entire budget looks like it would be equal to any half-hour of just one American Idol episode.
But the thing I will probably remember most from the film is the female contestant, Setara, she of the scandalous head bop and hip sway that threatens to bring the show crashing down. In 1979, her antics wouldn’t have raised an eyebrow; in post-war Afghanistan, they bring death threats and scandal. Outraged war lords take to their podiums to bemoan the blood of martyrs strewn on the sand and rocks.
I found Setara’s sunny, almost naive, belief that she can single-handedly lead women to the path of equality, to be completely endearing but also cause for alarm, knowing what trouble she might be bringing on herself. But sing she must, and, if the feeling moves her, dance she must! And her dancing really is so modest and charming that it only makes it more endearing for her idea that she is being bold and daring.
But then again, context is everything. Her moves, though modest, really are daring, she knows she’s flaunting convention though I think she underestimates the full impact of her actions; and when an angry viewer on the street states baldly, to the approving nods of listeners, that “She should die” it is a powerful reminder that in spite of all our similarities as a species, there do sometimes remain enormous gulfs to cross cultural understanding. She should die? She should… die??? By what process of logic does a person reach such a conclusion? She should die?
Entertaining and educational, with glimpses of humanity that can be endearing and also baffling, AFGHAN STAR is a powerful snapshot of a corner of the world little known or suspected by Americans, and it provides myriad topics for post-screening discussion.