Just like the other Iranian films that I've seen---Jafar Panahi's "White Balloon," Majid Majidi's "Children of Heaven," Abbas Kiarostami's "Where Is My Friend's Home?" and Ebrahim Forouzesh's "The Key"---Bahman Gobadi's "Zamani baraye masti ashba" also has children as the central characters.But whereas the children in Panahi's, Majidi's, Kiarostami's and Forouzesh's films appear to struggle with "simple" problems (gold fish, a pair of shoes, a friend's lost notebook and a house key), those in Gobadi's film deal with problems that take on a large-scale significance:how to keep one's body and soul together amid the escalating war between two Muslim countries, the protagonists being literally situated in the middle.
As his first full-length feature, Gobadi aims, as he tells us in the prologue, to make the viewers aware of the plight of the people of Kurdistan, who are unjustly marginalized and neglected, their situation becoming all the more worst as the village stands on the border between the warring Iran and Iraq (it's the time of the Gulf War).As I've already suggested, the focus here is particularly on the orphaned Kurdish siblings, headed by the affectionate and vulnerable Ayoub.To support his brothers and sisters, and most specially the ailing Madi, who needs to be operated in Iraq, Ayoub works for a group of smugglers who uses children in transporting illegally-obtained goods to Iraq.
The opening scene of a pressure-filled and hurriedly-done packing of smuggled products, presented with the use of a hand-held camera and undiluted colors (so that it has the look and feel of a documentary), and the shots of the snow-covered mountain along which the group of adults and children carry their goods, in a manner that is threatening rather than awe-inspiring, make it clear that the road ahead for the young protagonists won't be a smooth one, that life won't be a piece of cake, as should be proper for them, being tender and innocent as they are.
Though Gobadi chooses to present the story objectively, that is, in a manner where sympathy and hate won't be readily expressed to the persons concerned, being aware of the fact that theirs is a life being largely conditioned by the circumstances, I still think that the film belongs to the children, most specially to Ayoub.
It's hard not to admire Ayoub's selfless devotion to his siblings, even if it means having to be used callously by a group of adult smugglers (one of them is an uncle), having to endure the coldness, the thick blanket of snow and the steepness of the mountains as they transport the goods using "drunken horses" (hence, the title) and having to "sacrifice" an elder sister to an arranged marriage in the hope of having Madi operated, courtesy of the groom's family (which turns out to be a false hope).
One would think that such kind of fate is too much for a young child, but like the above-mentioned Iranian films, "Zamani baraye masti ashba" ends with the image of a child quietly enjoying a moment of triumph.What will become of him (or her) from thereon? Whatever, what counts for the time being is the simple joy brought about by a simple victory.
As his first full-length feature, Gobadi aims, as he tells us in the prologue, to make the viewers aware of the plight of the people of Kurdistan, who are unjustly marginalized and neglected, their situation becoming all the more worst as the village stands on the border between the warring Iran and Iraq (it's the time of the Gulf War).As I've already suggested, the focus here is particularly on the orphaned Kurdish siblings, headed by the affectionate and vulnerable Ayoub.To support his brothers and sisters, and most specially the ailing Madi, who needs to be operated in Iraq, Ayoub works for a group of smugglers who uses children in transporting illegally-obtained goods to Iraq.
The opening scene of a pressure-filled and hurriedly-done packing of smuggled products, presented with the use of a hand-held camera and undiluted colors (so that it has the look and feel of a documentary), and the shots of the snow-covered mountain along which the group of adults and children carry their goods, in a manner that is threatening rather than awe-inspiring, make it clear that the road ahead for the young protagonists won't be a smooth one, that life won't be a piece of cake, as should be proper for them, being tender and innocent as they are.
Though Gobadi chooses to present the story objectively, that is, in a manner where sympathy and hate won't be readily expressed to the persons concerned, being aware of the fact that theirs is a life being largely conditioned by the circumstances, I still think that the film belongs to the children, most specially to Ayoub.
It's hard not to admire Ayoub's selfless devotion to his siblings, even if it means having to be used callously by a group of adult smugglers (one of them is an uncle), having to endure the coldness, the thick blanket of snow and the steepness of the mountains as they transport the goods using "drunken horses" (hence, the title) and having to "sacrifice" an elder sister to an arranged marriage in the hope of having Madi operated, courtesy of the groom's family (which turns out to be a false hope).
One would think that such kind of fate is too much for a young child, but like the above-mentioned Iranian films, "Zamani baraye masti ashba" ends with the image of a child quietly enjoying a moment of triumph.What will become of him (or her) from thereon? Whatever, what counts for the time being is the simple joy brought about by a simple victory.