Movie Review - 'No One Knows About Persian Cats' - These Cats Just Want To Rock 'N' Roll ... In Iran No One Knows about Persian Cats, which won the Special Jury Prize at last year's Cannes Film Festival, has now opened in theaters across the U.S. Critic John Powers says that Bahman Ghobadi's film — about outlaw musicians in Iran — is a reminder of the liberating potential of rock.
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'Persian Cats' Just Want To Rock 'N' Roll ... In Iran

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'Persian Cats' Just Want To Rock 'N' Roll ... In Iran



'Persian Cats' Just Want To Rock 'N' Roll ... In Iran

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(Soundbite of music)


This is FRESH AIR. I'm Dave Davies in for Terry Gross.

There's an acclaimed new music film from Iran now in theatres and available through IFC Video On Demand. It's called "No One Knows About Persian Cats," and has been admired abroad. It won the Special Jury Prize at last year's Cannes Film Festival, even as it was being suppressed back in Iran. The movie was directed by Bahman Ghobadi, an Iranian Kurd who's earlier films include, "A Time for Drunken Horses" and "Marooned in Iraq."

Our critic at large John Powers says the film is a reminder for Westerners of the liberating potential of pop music.

JOHN POWERS: When I was growing up, it was an article of faith that rock 'n' roll could change the world. These days that faith has waned. You see, rather than overturning mainstream culture, rock has turned into it. The Who didn't actually die before they got old, they played halftime at the Super Bowl.

But there are places in the world where pop music still does carry a transformative charge. One of them is the Islamic Republic of Iran, whose leaders are still busy clamping down on the millions who believe that the ruling government stole last summer's election.

The state's attempt to squash free expression lies at the heart of "No One Knows About Persian Cats," a jagged, energetic, touching new movie by Bahman Ghobadi. Shot without permission on a small digital camera, this thinly fictionalized portrait of Tehran's underground music scene uses real musicians to re-enact the conflict between indie rockers who just want to make music and authorities who find the Great Satan's horns in every riff and backbeat.

The movie centers on two mild-tempered musicians: the bearded Ashkan and the scarfed Negar, who've just gotten out of prison for their musical crimes. He and she aren't radicals who are looking to rock the Casbah, even if the Casbah was in Iran, not Algeria. No, they just want to find some musicians for their band - it's called Take It Easy Hospital - and to get documents so they can play abroad. To do this, they enlist the help of their wheeler-dealer friend Nadar(ph), an exuberant DVD bootlegger.

The three spend the movie zooting around the city, often traveling in darkness and dipping into basement hidey-holes. Along the way they encounter music producers, traffickers in illegal passports, bullying magistrates and above all, other musicians. There's the handsome singer who teaches refugee kids from Iraq and Afghanistan. There's the metal band that practices among cows in a barn. And there's the terrific rap group Hichkas, who insist that their songs can only have meaning when played for people in Tehran.

As we listen to the various bands, Ghobadi offers us video montages of that city - shades of early '80s MTV. They give us a feel for the texture of a sprawling metropolis defined by wealth and poverty, exuberance and repression.

None of these songs are directly political and it startling to realize that the mullahs could actually feel threatened by glum song like this one. "Human Jungle" by Take it Easy Hospital.

(Soundbite of song, "Human Jungle")

TAKE IT EASY HOSPITAL (Band): (Singing) I've been there alone. I've been there with you. Believe me out there, there's a jungle. Together or alone. Together or alone.

People are looking for a way to survive. But we are just looking for a shortcut together or alone. Together or alone. Nobody knows me. Nobody feels me. Nobody knows me. Nobody needs me. Human jungle rules our lives...

POWERS: The great Polish philosopher Leszek Kolakowski used to say that one of the most crushing flaws of communism was its totalizing vision. It had opinions about everything - art and science and what you ought to be thinking. The same holds true for a theocracy like Iran, where the state weighs in on how people dress, what they do with their pets - Persian cats, for example, can't be taken outside - and what culture they're allowed to enjoy: a bullying well documented in Azar Nafisi's superb bestseller "Reading Lolita in Tehran" and in Jafar Panahi's wonderful movie "Offside," about teenage girls who disguise themselves as boys to attend soccer matches because women aren't allowed to attend. It's worth noting, by the way, that Panahi - the key Iranian filmmaker of the last decade - is now in prison for protesting last summer's election.

Now, you can understand why the mullahs hate rock music, which doesn't merely possess an unruly energy. It enters people's heads as the siren song of the West. They're well aware that rock 'n' roll became one big way that Soviet and Eastern European dissidents showed their rejection of communism. It was no mere coincidence, after all, that Vaclav Havel, the king of Czechoslovakia's Velvet Revolution, was a huge fan of The Velvet Underground. That said, the Iranian authorities are stuck with the same paradox that boomeranged on the communists: When you crack down on rock music, you only make it a more powerful and alluring metaphor for freedom.

That's precisely what we see in "No One Knows About Persian Cats". Negar and Ashkan and their pals aren't radicals. They're passionate young people who just want to play the alienated music they love. But because the authorities won't let them, they believe, as one says, you can't do anything here. And it's this angry disillusionment - far more than any rock song - that explains why hundreds of thousands of young people have taken to the streets, and why the Iranian theocrats should be worried that the times, they are a-changin'.

DAVIES: John Powers is film critic for Vogue and his reviews and columns appear on

Coming up, we remember a pioneering film editor Dede Allen who died Saturday at the age of 86.

This is FRESH AIR.

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