I don’t have a habit of watching a film twice, let alone a foreign language film. But I made an exception for Turtles Can Fly, a 2004 Iranian-Iraqi production that is deeply moving. Fortunately the film comes with English subtitles and the acting (mainly by children no less) was simply superb.
The film is directed by Balman Ghobadi, a Kurdish-Iranian film maker. It is set on the eve of the U.S. invasion of Iraq in a bid to topple the despotic Saddam Hussein, who was particularly hard on the Kurds, a stateless people who roam parts of Syria, Turkey, Iran and northeastern Iraq where the film is set.
But Turtles Can Fly isn’t about war, at least not the way it is portrayed in Hollywood movies. It is a poignant and though-provoking commentary on the resilience of the human spirit in the face of adversity. There is hardly any gun fire or bomb droppings in the film. Yet, bleakness pervades the entire length of the movie. We see this in the endless arid desert landscape where mines are planted, and wreckages of tanks are strewn. And we see it most poignantly in the lives of children, many of whom are maimed by the war, struggling to survive by collecting mines to raise a few paltry coins or trade for other goods.
The unofficial leader of this group of children is a streetwise teenager the other kids call Satellite. Satellite is mature and confident beyond his years. His oversize glasses, mishmash of tattered western clothing and object-adorned bicycle are like badges of authority. His troops comprise an army of orphaned children from the refugee camp. With no parents or guardians to guide them, Satellite becomes their de-facto guardian. They follow his orders without question, looking to him as the only source of hope from the tyranny of Saddam’s regime. They have no qualms about digging up and defusing land mines to sell to local arms dealers, mines planted both by Americans and Saddam Hussein’s army. It is perilous work, as the missing hands, arms and legs on many of the children testify.
What makes the film so powerful is that all the actors are real Kurdish refugees. They are playing themselves. Apart from Satellite, there is the impossibly energetic Pashov, who despite having one leg twisted out of shape, is able to hurl down on muddy roads on his hand-made crutch at the speed equal to Satellite cycling at full pelt. Pashov’s cheerfulness is a powerful statement of human resilience in the face of tragedy. At one point, he even dangles his leg up and points it jokingly like a gun at a border guard, then scampers off laughing as the guards fire shots at him.
The whole town of adults and children are hungry for reliable news, eagerly anticipating their emancipation from Saddam’s torment. The ever-enterprising Satellite managed to barter a satellite dish in exchange for old radios and some cash and helped install it so the town can receive banned Western news. Director Ghobadi injects moments of unexpected humor when elders of the town sat with their eyes glued to whatever the television was showing (including a flash of semi-naked women that was of course “prohibited” material). Finally, a news channel turned up showing President Bush speaking to reporters, which of course nobody understood. When the elders hectored Satellite to interpret what Bush was saying, Satellite told them with a straight face: “He says it will rain tomorrow.”
There are other moments of black humor like this, which then suddenly give way to the sobering reality that life as they know it may always remain on the edge. All told, Turtles Can Fly is a magnificent achievement, a cinematic masterpiece that will leave a lasting impression on its audience. It is a testament to the power of storytelling to shed light on the human condition, reminding us of our humanity, and above all our resilience even in the darkest of times.
My recommendation: watch it (it’s on YouTube), maybe twice.
Stills from Turtles Can Fly (2004)
