IFFR 2024 Tiger Competition Review: Me, Maryam, the Children and 26 Others
by Vladan Petkovic, Cineuropa February 1, 2024
Farshad Hashemi's first feature follows Iranian cinema's tradition of intertwining reality and fiction, and exploring the relationship between real life and cinema.
Farshad Hashemi's feature debut, Me, Maryam, the Children and 26 Others, which has just world-premiered in IFFR's Tiger Competition, will inevitably inspire associations with Iranian cinema's tradition of intertwining reality and fiction, and exploring the relationship between real life and cinema.
Hashemi has crafted a nuanced and gentle meta-film that leaves the viewer with the feeling that something is missing in order to form the full picture.
Mahboube (Mahboubeh Gholami, also credited as "idea generator") is a thirtysomething sculptor living alone with her pets and plants. Facing financial troubles, she decides to rent out her house for a six-day shoot of a short film, and soon she is faced with the messy reality of film production. Led by likeable line producer Farshad (Farshad Hashemi), the crew moves in, painting a wall blue (as she agreed in the contract), leaving coffee stains on her books and endangering her cats (which she vehemently protests against), and generally creating chaos, as crews are bound to do.
We learn little information about our heroine, despite segments in which her voice-over recollections are combined with Peyman Yazdanian's sentimental, piano-led score. She speaks about her family and the history of her house, where remarkable details such as an unfinished portrait of her and her sister, painted by her father, or a termite-eaten door jamb, reflect her feelings of loneliness and a tension between past and present – but they give us little clue as to the reasons.
Mahboubeh Gholami in Me, Maryam, the Children and 26 Others
Maybe we can take a hint from the short that is being made: it is the director Vahhad's autobiographical story of his separation from his wife. But Vahhad is not a prominent figure in Hashemi's film; Mahboube is initially reserved and just interacts with Farshad and camera-crew member Navid (Navid Aghaei), who stays overnight to keep an eye on the equipment. Despite the friction she both reacts to and causes, our heroine's conversations with the filmmakers are soft and polite. In fact, all of the characters in the film seem like genuinely nice people.
As the story progresses, events or lines of dialogue from the film proper and from the one being shot start overflowing into each other, and Mahboube gets closer to the crew. A scene in the make-up room (which is in fact her bedroom) marks the moment when she connects with the women on the team, including lead actress Zahra (Zahra Aghapour). However, this does not feel like a natural transition – it is instead quite sudden. Regardless, the landlady gets invested in the production itself, and creates an emotional bond with both the film's story and the other characters.
DoP Davood Malek Hosseini captures the chaos of the shoot with a handheld camera and opts for smooth pans and dark-toned, tableau-like images in Mahmoube's reflective moments. Except for a campy nightmare scene, the colouring in the segments where the short is being made is less intense than that of the reality of Hashemi's film. In contrast, a couple of inventive ellipses and ingenious editing decisions further blur the line between the two.
It is a gentle and ambiguous picture, but perhaps too much so for its own good. Despite Gholami's nuanced performance and formidable presence, we would like to know more about her character – but it is hard to say if this is part of the concept. The same goes for the overall dynamics of the film: is it meant to reflect the fact that life never completely fits the narratives we create for ourselves?