Five-film package of Iran in Mumbai

Bleeding Heart (Delkhoon) was the first film to be screened in the festival comprising five Iranian films. The festival is being organised by Culture House of the Islamic Republic of Iran, Mumbai, and the Federation of Film Societies of India, Maharashtra, at Ravindra Mini Theatre, until January 26, 2018.

I could not make it to this film but caught up with the second film, Hello Mumbai (Salaam Mumbai), shown on 23rd January. As the name gives away, this is an Iran-India co-production. Made in 2016, it has Pahlaj Nihalani, noted Hindi film producer and erstwhile Chairperson of the Central Board of Film Certification, as the Indian partner. From Iran, the producer is Javad Noroozbeigi.

First, the up-side. When it was released in Iran about a year ago, Salaam Mumbai had a massive opening day ticket sales of 6 billion rials ($155,000), more than double the amount of the previous record-holder, Asghar Farhadi’s The Salesman, which took in $67,500 on its first day. The high sale on December 1, 2017 was also the highest for a single day recorded for any movie in Iran’s cinema history. As the public kept packing movie theatres on Friday (Dec. 2), the film became the fastest to reach 10 billion rials ($260,000) in only two days, again breaking the record of The Salesman, which was released three months ago and raked the amount in three days.

Now the down-side. Iranian superstar Mohammad Reza Golzar, Dia Mirza and Iranian director Ghorban Mohammadpour cannot save this puerile attempt from floundering in the Arabian Sea. If it does not sink instantaneously without a trace, credit should go to the novelty of the first Indo-Iranian co-production, which has a smattering of Persian/Farsi (do not remember enough of the language to comment) Hindi (contrived, laughable) and English (pretentious, with generous doses of altruisms). Mohammadpour’s earlier film was called Maadaree-zubaan (mother tongue) and he has said that it inspired Salaam Mumbai. What really inspired Salaam Mumbai must be the low B grade Hindi films of the 60s and 70s.

A boy and a girl are classmates in a medical college. The girl is often absent, so she asks him for notes. Her car has a flat tyre and he fixes it. She tries to commit suicide, and he comes to the hospital with a rose and poems of Persian master Haafez. Love blooms. Enter the villain. A low angle shot of him getting out of a car, leather shoes in close-up. He’s a billionaire who buys five-star hotels for breakfast. His parents are no more, but they had agreed with the heroine’s. Our hero is an Iranian exchange student who works in a restaurant to offset his expenses. When their love is discovered, villain resorts to threats. But heroine has already attempted suicide once on this count, and the hero is brave and committed. Desperate measures are called for.

“You will come back to me like the envelope that has my address written on both sides”, glowers Mr. villain, to his lady-love. “Don’t tell God you have a big problem; tell the problem your God is big,” is the profound philosophy the hero adheres to. Along the way, there are songs Sonu Nigam, Arijit Singh and Shabbir Kumar, as well as one track by pop singer Benyamin Bahadori, 34, who makes his first appearance in a feature film with Salaam Mumbai. Two more tracks by Benyamin are also used for the beginning and ending credits. One track is an item number, only fully sanitised, with only men, all fully clothed. And appropriately for an Iranian film, no pelvic thrusts.

Mohammad Reza Golzar (started as a guitarist, then he ventured into acting, doing films like Sam o Nargess, Kalagh Par, Eshgh Tatil Nist) has a pleasing and wholesome presence. He does not look a 22 year-old medical student, though, being twice that age in rear-life. Dia Mirza has the requisite vulnerability but the distance maintained between the hero and the heroine affects the chemistry between the couple. In fact, you find it hard to believe that she could really have become pregnant with his child during their courtship. Gulshan Grover has been there done that a hundred times before. The boredom begins to show, and the over-the-top scenes make it worse. Dalip Tahil as the girl’s father lays a confused parent and tries hard to make some sense of a poorly written role. Poonam Dhillon as his wife is more acceptable.

Benyamin Bahadori is the hero’s best friend. The character could have taken a shape of its own but probably got shot down on the editing table. Simran Mishrikoti, Benyamin’s wife Shaili Mahmoudi, Behrouz Chahel and Diana Pinto are also in the cast. Actors playing bit roles are awkward and amateurish. My college friend Mirza Jawad Askari, who had a cameo in Beyond the Clouds, is here too, as a doctor, for comic relief. The scene is an obtuse attempt at getting some suggested intimacy in, without ruffling Iranian feathers.

In Salaam Mumbai and The Song of Sparrows (directed by Majid Majidi) Javad Noroozbeigi is not likely to be executive producer on two more diverse projects. Oops...did Majidi not make Beyond the Clouds? Music by Dilshaad Shabbir Shaikh is passable, Cinematography by Hassan Pooya is below par, in terms of lighting and tilts/pans, and Editing by Sohrab Khosravi and Ali Nahavandi is unable to impart any pace to the film that drags for a full two hours. (It is mentioned on the Internet that the Iranian version runs for 110 minutes).

All through the film, there are moments when a person who speaks a language tries to speak another, or asks the other person the meanings of words in that other language. The premise is not funny in itself, unless there is a strong context and the words are clearly intonated/translated.

Three more films to go. Three more films have an opportunity say Salaam (Greetings) Mumbai. We’ll wait and watch.