The liberation, exploitation, and oppression of Iran’s women, based on clips from films from the silent-film era up until the Revolution in 1979.

How Dare You Have Such a Rubbish Wish (2022) [843495012].mkv

General
Container:  	Matroska
Runtime: 	1 h 13 min
Size: 	1.26 GiB
Video
Codec: 	x264
Resolution: 	1920x1080 
Aspect ratio:  	16:9
Frame rate: 	25.000 fps
Bit rate: 	2 262 kb/s
BPP: 	0.044
Audio
#1:  	2.0ch AAC LC @ 192 kb/s

https://nitro.download/view/0C40BB306ADC828/How_Dare_You_Have_Such_a_Rubbish_Wish_(2022)__843495012_.mkv

Language(s):Persian
Subtitles:English (hardcoded)

The post Mania Akbari – How Dare You Have Such a Rubbish Wish (2022) first appeared on Cinema of the World.

A film in several episodes with Bijan Daneshmand and Mania Akbari, exposing some of the issues of men and women within the confines of tradition and family life in Iran. Each episode displays a different form of male/female interaction. The placing of the actors in a moving vehicle or against a moving back drop signifies the movement of life despite all the obstacles in its way. The film deals with the roots of dependencies, limitations, power struggles and conflict that are the familiar stuff of life of couples in the Middle East.

20 Fingers - 2004 - Mania Akbari.mkv

General
Container:  	Matroska
Runtime: 	1h 10mn
Size: 	1.38 GiB
Video
Codec: 	x264
Resolution: 	706x372 ~> 706x423
Aspect ratio:  	5:3
Frame rate: 	23.976 fps
Bit rate: 	2 601 Kbps
BPP: 	0.413
Audio
#1:  	2.0ch AC-3 @ 192 Kbps (Stereo)

https://nitro.download/view/8C20B660A676B1B/20_Fingers_-_2004_-_Mania_Akbari.mkv

Language(s):Persian
Subtitles:English

The post Mania Akbari – 20 Angosht AKA 20 Fingers (2004) first appeared on Cinema of the World.

Quote:
A visual social examination in the form of ten conversations between a driving woman and her various pick-ups and hitchhikers.

Jonathan Romney for Screen Daily wrote:
A defiantly no-frills exercise even by his ascetic standards, 10 is Abbas Kiarostami’s triumphant vindication of digital video’s potential to produce a kind of cinema that cannot be achieved by other means. This is screen minimalism at its most uncompromising: 10 sequences of varying length, shot with a locked-off DV camera, of people talking in a car, seemingly improvising around what may be a very loose script. Gruelling as this might sound, the results are a riveting drama that pays testament both to the magnetism of the performers and to the audacity of Kiarostami’s conception – although the director has managed to make his own intervention all but invisible. One of the most biting comments yet on women’s condition in Iranian society, the film has little of the lyricism, tart comedy or visual appeal of Kiarostami’s last fiction feature The Wind Will Carry Us, but its dramatic force and hard-nosed formal innovation will give it some commercial clout on the specialised arthouse circuit where The Wind’ was such a hit.

In episodes numbered down from 10 to 1, Kiarostami takes us inside the car of a young unnamed woman (Mania Akbari) driving through Tehran. In the first episode, she drives her young son Amin (Amin Maher) to the swimming pool. In what appears to be a single uninterrupted 15-minute take – although in fact there are barely perceptible jump cuts – she and Amin talk testily about her divorce, about which the boy is resentful. The mother, unseen through this sequence, is now living with a new man, Mortaza; we hear her complain about her marriage and how her ex-husband destroyed her. Now, she tells Amin, she belongs only to herself; he accuses her of selfishness, and the tension between them escalates into screaming. The boy is particularly angry that in order to divorce, his mother accused her husband of being a drug addict; Iran’s tough divorce laws, she replies, call for desperate measures. As the sequence ends, we at last see the mother – young, well-groomed, apparently wealthy – at the wheel.

Section nine alternates shots between the driving and passenger seats. The woman now has her sister in the car and the two women discuss the problems of parenthood. In the very brief section eight, the mother gives a religious old woman a lift, but resists her encouragement to go and pray.

The film takes a darker turn, literally and thematically, in section seven, set at night, in which the mother has given a lift to a young prostitute, who has got into her car mistaking her for a male punter. The two women talk frankly about life on the game, and the hooker jokes bitterly about her married customers, men whom she hears phoning their wives to declare their conjugal love. The section ends with the film’s only shot outside the car, signalling its central importance as a metaphor of women’s place in what the hooker calls a society of trade: she is seen in the street soliciting passing cars in the night.

As sections follow, leaving it ambivalent how much time is passing between them, a certain narrative momentum begins to escalate. At one point, we learn Amin is now living with his father, and is apparently much happier – but his mother’s, and our, doubts are raised when he chats about the TV shows his father watches privately at night, before innocently chanting, “Sex, sex'”. The penultimate episode’s devastating culmination has the mother’s friend, abandoned by her boyfriend, lift back her scarf to reveal she has shaved her head. We assume this unexplained act is a gesture of protest, and in the context of an Iranian film, it registers as a quite startling defiance of a taboo on representations of women, no less scandalous in its way than the film’s unprecedentedly frank sex talk. The brief final sequence reprises an earlier episode, as if to say (echoing an earlier Kiarostami title) “and life goes on.”

10 comes across almost as a documentary, a depiction of raw reality that could, for all we know, be improvised. Certainly, Kiarostami refers in his notes to “the disappearance of direction”, and it is a film in which staging, artifice and even editing seem to recede if not vanish entirely. He also teasingly classifies it as neither documentary nor fiction but “midway between the two, perhaps”. Certainly, the loose, energetic of the performances suggest that the characters are either improvising brilliantly or just being themselves – and the young Amin Maher’s unruly energy throughout is another of those marvels of vibrant, abrasive child performance that Iran produces regularly. As well as making a powerful statement about the social and economic traps facing Iranian women (and of which the film’s female characters are astutely critical), 10 stands as a key exhibit in the development of the new digital cinema and a dazzling example of the “less-is-more” aesthetic.

1.79GB | 1h 29m | 760×570 | mkv

https://nitroflare.com/view/8C2107F7438E97F/Ten_(Abbas_Kiarostami,_2002).mkv

Language:Farsi
Subtitles:English, French, Spanish, Galician, Portuguese

The post Abbas Kiarostami – Ten (2002) first appeared on Cinema of the World.

Quote:
Documentary where Iranian filmmaker Abbas Kiarostami reflects on his own film-making techniques, drawing from his own films – and 2001’s Ten in particular.

An IMDb reviewer wrote:
This isn’t so much a documentary as it is an 80 minute class with Iranian auteur Abbas Kiarstomi. Using his movie “Ten” as an example, he breaks down his theory of filmaking in 10 chapters, ranging from his preference of camera, to his take on character and directing.

Don’t expect a doc with include scenery and talking heads. There is only one talking head, Kiarstomi’s, as it drives cross countryside alone. But that’s the beauty of this. It was just him and a camera and some free time.

He’s talking directly at us. Giving us a very personal talk that would otherwise take place in his head.

Kiarstomi is an ego-centric who says something profound and knows it. Sometimes he says something hilarious and doesn’t. But he is honest and proud, with a confidence worthy of envy.

1.70GB | 1h 24m | 765×574 | mkv

https://nitroflare.com/view/08CFBF07F8143DB/10_on_Ten_(Abbas_Kiarostami,_2004).mkv
or
https://nitroflare.com/view/20DF4ABE91045CB/10_on_Ten_(Abbas_Kiarostami,_2004).part1.rar
https://nitroflare.com/view/E941A583D3AD5EF/10_on_Ten_(Abbas_Kiarostami,_2004).part2.rar

Language:Farsi with English voice-over
Subtitles:English, French (forced for the few non-voiceover parts)

The post Abbas Kiarostami – 10 on Ten (2004) first appeared on Cinema of the World.

After casting painter and video artist Mania Akbari as the central figure of his groundbreaking Ten (2002), and then witnessing her outstanding debut as a feature film director in 20 Fingers (2004), Abbas Kiarostami urged her to direct a sequel to the film. In Dah be alaveh Chahar (10 + 4), though, circumstances are different: Mania is fighting cancer. She has undergone surgery; she has lost her hair following chemotherapy and no longer wears the compulsory headscarf; and sometimes she is too weak to drive. So the camera follows her to record conversations with friends and family in different spaces, from the gondola she had famously used in her first feature to a hospital bed. Yet, while he body shows the effects of the disease, Akbari is as tough, charismatic, and argumentative as in her previous screen appearances her luminous presence all the more alluring and precious as it becomes a sign of how fragile life itself is. Her cinematic language has been expanded and refined from the rigorous explorations of 20 Fingers, to take into account the unexpected aspects of facing simultaneously death and survival, social stigma and sympathy. Treading an elegant line between documentary and fiction, Akbari takes a daring look at complex social situations that arise in the face of mortality and emerges with a new zest for life.

10 + 4 walks the delicate line between art and life. Akbari’s last film (the revelatory 20 Fingers) eviscerated male and female relationships, and this time she spares no one, not even herself Often it is the smallest details that stick and tell the hardest truths: a man on motorcycle pulls (the newly bald) Mania over to the side of the road to demand to know whether she is male or female As conversation unfolds in episodic and allusive fashion, the film becomes more than a conventional documentary; it trespasses into the realm of art. Filled with touches of grace and humanity, but never ever sentimental, it is an honest (sometimes brutally so) look at the moments of life that can occur very close to death.

The film makes use of simple cinematic techniques. Tight shots allow us to enter into the intimate world of the protagonist, and we were deeply moved by it. Throughout the film, the spectator stays with the progress of the disease and is made a sympathetic witness of it. 10 + 4 left us speechless. statement from the Festival des Trois Continents (Nantes) jury.

This film reflects my inner experience. It is vitally important to expose deep inner truths no matter how difficult and painful they are. 10 + 4 depicts a part of these realities. What is difficult and can’t be said or heard will be seen and this will make healing possible. We have to allow the things that must die within us to die; and allow what has to come to life again or has stayed alive to be. If we do not resist inner death, then real death will appear in all its strength. – Mania Akbari

The title 10 + 4 is an allusion to the number of years (four) separating Ten from its sequel. In-between, there was the fight with cancer. 10 + 4 was internationally premiered at the San Sebastian International Film Festival and has received awards in several international festivals (such as Nantes and Kerala).

https://nitro.download/view/0C2EC09F0A87ECF/10_+_4_(Dah_be_alaveh_chahar)_(2007).avi

Language:Persian
Subtitles:English hardcoded subs

The post Mania Akbari – 10 + 4 (Dah be alaveh chahar) (2007) first appeared on Cinema of the World.