You've heard this said before to hype movies, but in this case it's
true: The circumstances surrounding the making of The Apple, an
engrossing Iranian film showing next Tuesday and Wednesday at Sarratt, are
as extraordinary as the movie itself. In 1997, Samira Makhmalbaf, the
daughter of filmmaker Mohsen Makhmalbaf, saw a newscast about twin
12-year-old girls in Tehran whose 65-year-old father and blind mother had
kept them locked in their house all their lives.
Within 11 days, with her father's help, the younger Makhmalbaf shot an
entire feature about the story. More amazing still, she persuaded the
girls, Massoumeh and Zahra Naderi; the father and mother; and various
neighbors to play themselves. This despite the fact that the 17-year-old
director was only five years older than her twin subjects. To tell the
story, the Makhmalbafs devised situations, and the Naderis "responded" to
them on camera.
The result isn't exactly documentary; in fact, the director has been
criticized in Iranian papers for placing the Naderis in prankish
situations, like a neighbor boy bonking the blind mother with a dangling
apple. But it isn't some gauzy reality-vs.-illusion debate, either. It's
more like the uncertainty principle extended to daily life: How does the
world change when we poke a camera into it, and is it possible even to call
the results of such an intrusive process the truth? This question is
central to the great movies coming out of Iran in recent years.
Yet The Apple offers such an unobtrusive portrait of its Tehran
community, from the lack of privacy to the bartering of ice cream, that it
never seems contrived for the camera. To megaplexed Western eyes, its long
takes and still-life street scenes may seem slow and uneventful--at first,
anyway. Once you tap into The Apple's gentle humor and its wealth of
provocative themes and ideas, though, you might find one viewing will only
pique your curiosity.