16/02/2024 - BERLINALE 2024: Narges Kalhor’s film is imaginative and rebellious, combining myriad art forms and discarding cinematic traditions, but struggles under the weight of its own ambition

Iranian-born, German-based filmmaker Narges Kalhor follows up on her imaginative DOK Leipzig prizewinner In the Name of Scheherazade or the First Beergarden in Tehran [+see also:
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Kalhor's full surname is Shahid Kalhor, and the plot centres on her alter-ego Narges, played by Baharak Abdolifard. Her great-grandfather was killed in 1907 while praying, which made him a martyr – a shahid – and this title became attached to the family name. Tired of all its connotations and her status as an immigrant, but also her privilege compared to others, German bureaucracy and the history of both countries, plus, and above all, the global, vicious circle of patriarchy, Kalhor has decided to make a film about Narges trying to remove "Shahid" from her name.

The fourth wall mostly does not exist in the film, with the director's instructions, camera crew and repetitions all included in the edit. However, with its combination of performance, documentary, animation, musical and speaking directly into the camera, one might argue the director has built at least a few additional walls.

The film opens with an overhead shot of Narges lying naked on the floor in a foetal position and a group of seven men, led by her great-grandfather (played by Nima Nazarinia), dancing around her threateningly to a dramatic rhythm of heavy percussion. They are dressed in flowing, black robes, and their movements are elaborate and broad. When Narges walks the streets of Munich on her way to an administration office, they follow her, reciting and then singing a poem together with her, while other pedestrians are moving backwards.

When the clerk starts listing the documents necessary for a change of name, the long German words appear over the screen in large, white letters, to the sound of a computer keyboard. One document is missing, and here, the actress is confused and asks the director for clarification. Kalhor opts for a new take, and we go back to the beginning of the film, except now, the dancing is less complex, performed with less enthusiasm, and the great-grandfather is more talkative. He wants to stop her from changing her name, but this doesn't fit their relationship on the screen, stymied by friendly exchanges between the two actors in the "real life" segments. These are more accessible to the viewer, but do not fully translate into their self-referential function within the complex story. 

The missing document was a psychological evaluation, and the therapist Narges ends up going to is called Ribbentrop. We get a lecture on his infamous namesake as well as Shahid via a subversive version of pardeh khani, an Iranian storytelling tradition involving a sort of minstrel and a large, painted screen, which occasionally turns into animation.

The ever-changing art forms at first work impressively, this resolute departure from classic cinema fitting the intention to demolish all traditions built by the patriarchal culture, but after a while, the film becomes overbearing and tonally confusing. It ends up struggling under the weight of its ambition, and despite all its inventiveness and often exciting artistic choices, it seems like it is trying too hard, and comes across as self-indulgent and overly broad. Kalhor has indeed torn down conventions, and as a result, her admirably creative and bold work feels less like a film than a mixed-media piece which deals with too many overlapping topics to be able to explore them fully.

Shahid was produced by Germany's Michael Kalb Filmproduktion. International sales are handled by Filmotor.