Pari: The backgroud info I found...
AmBen@aol.com
Sat, 30 Aug 1997 04:00:20 -0400 (EDT)
hello all...
i forgot to ask what everyone thought about the addition of the
APDFB story to Pari....and the alterations made to the movie (both cultural
and plot-based)...so i thought i'd post for everyone what i do know about
it... which came from an internet movie source... but you probably already
know all this...
'and if i belong then i'll be longer than expected'---low
..............amBen
Pari (1995)
Iran 1995 Color
Language: Farsi
Runtime: 115
Directed by: Dariush Mehrjui
Cast (in alphabetical order)
Niki Karimi....Pari
Khosro Shakibai....Khosro Shakibai
Written by: Dariush Mehrjui, J.D. Salinger (novel Franny and Zooey)
Cinematography by: Ali Reza Zarrindast
Music by: Keivan Jahanshahi
Film Editing by: Hassan Hassandust
Produced by: Dariush Mehrjui, Hashem Seifi
Other crew:
Abdollah Eskandari....make-up
Majid Eskandari....make-up
Faryar Javaherian....set designer
Sasan Nakhaf....sound recordist
Asghar Shahverdi....sound recordist
Reza Sharafoddin....special effects
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
eye WEEKLY February 1 1996
Toronto's arts newspaper .....free every Thursday
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
ONSCREEN review PARI
Starring Niki Karimi and Khosro Shakibai.
Screenplay by Dariush Mahrjui based on
J.D. Salinger's novel Franny And Zooey.
Directed by Dariush Mahrjui. Arabic with Subtitles.
(STC) Feb. 2, 9 p.m.; Feb. 4, 7 p.m.; Feb. 6, 9 p.m.
(Part of the Second Iranian Film Festival, Feb. 2-7.)
Bloor Cinema, 506 Bloor St. W. 532-6677.
by CAROLYN BENNETT
A chance to see a festival of Iranian films doesn't come around every day. In
fact, the last one was six long years ago. If Pari, an intellectually
ambitious work about a young woman's quest for life's meaning -- based on
J.D. Salinger's novel Franny And Zooey -- is an indication, the festival is
well worth your while. Pari is a young Iranian woman who has given up a
fledgling acting career in search of The Big Answer. Through her studies she
stumbles upon "The Green Book," a sort of how-to spiritual guide written by a
fifth-century Jojira mystic. She becomes obsessed by the book, experiencing
fantastic visions and religious ecstasy. The book was a gift from a beloved
older brother who committed suicide in a fire and Pari seems set on following
his fate. The bulk of the story lies with Pari's surviving brother, Dadashi,
who takes it upon himself to bring Pari back to reality. Beautifully
photographed and slickly directed (the film won veteran writer/director
Dariush Mahrjui, a UCLA philosophy grad, the Best Director award at the 1995
Fajr Film Festival and
Alireza Zarrindast the award for Best Cinematography), Pari is a stunning
visual journey as well as a refreshingly intelligent story. Characters debate
religion and philosophy. They get bent out of shape over bad art. They
recognize and care about the state of thought in society. What is doubly
compelling is that this philosophical and religious struggle comes from an
Islamic perspective and not the Christian view, as in Franny And Zooey. The
family dynamic, although a bit confusing at times, slowly reveals its
significance by the end of the film, as a small revelation brings the
mystical and temporal together. You may lose track of time watching Pari.
There are no Hollywood plot points every 20 minutes, no twists that spin the
action around. What you will do is revel in the beauty of the land and
appreciate another culture's religious and intellectual tradition -- even if
you don't completely
understand it.
Salinger As a House On Fire
East Meets Upper East Side in an Iranian Adaptation of Franny and Zooey
Niki Karimi, Pharsi Franny
By Adam Pincus
There are lots of ways a film can connect with its audience, and PARI, a
high-pitched, elliptical tale of family dysfunction (to invoke distinctly
Western terminology), obsession and spiritual questing, gets over on the
strength of some unlikely dramatic elements. For the American audience, PARI
is helped in no small part by the resonance of its source material. It is,
without any apparent hint of irony, a literal adaptation of J.D. Salinger's
Franny and Zooey.
Salinger's Glass family is a ruptured clan of New York intellectuals, with
Ivy League genes and a sprawling, decayed Upper East side flat. The youngest
Glass generation -- the naturally talented, impossibly likable Zooey and his
more fretful kid sister Franny -- live in the long shadow of their brilliant
older brothers, Seymour (a honeymoon suicide) and Buddy, a underachieving
writer/professor at a small Eastern College. Weaned on Buddhism and the Life
of Mind, Franny and Zooey feel somehow tainted by this melancholy
intellectualism. Now young adults, they can't help believing they've been
raised as "freaks," removed from the carefree bluster of their smart-talking,
self-serious peers and the dew-eyed sentimentality of their mother and
father. Not
that they escaped either self-seriousness or sentimentality themselves;
Franny has recently discovered a religious text which acts on her striving,
hungry psyche like mystic pollution, and Zooey -- an actor and weary veteran
of the Quest trenches -- vacillates between jokesterism and zealous
disbelief. Both of them wish more than anything that they could just talk to
Seymour about all this. The elder brothers' room, littered with all manner of
high-minded detritus, remains untouched at the end of the hall, like a
shrine. For all Salinger's earnest faith in the Buddhist solution, Franny and
Zooey's talk of Bodhi somehow comes out wistful, esoteric and soft. They are
'50's kids, trying on exotic garb. There's a gentle humor and a fondness for
the characters and their yearnings, their crises, their illusions and
disillusionment. What a difference forty-odd years and one radical cultural
transposition make. The Iranian rendering of Salinger's characters might be
recognizable to someone intimately familiar with the stories, but it's wholly
inverted in tone and temperament. The opening half-hour -- that devoted to
the Pharsi Franny, here called Pari -- is overwhelmingly strident and
hysterical, as Pari pours forth all her feverish disquiet to her smug,
self-absorbed and thoroughly baffled boyfriend.Looking around the Hawaii
Theater, where most of the audience probably has little awareness of this
film's adapted source, you've got to wonder: do they have any idea what's
going on here? Can this film work on it own? In some ways, it can. PARI makes
the most of the beauty of its star, Niki Karimi, whose luminous face projects
all the youthful intensity and determined questing of her character. Khosro
Shakibai, the AK 47 toting Zooey, who glides between bruising dogma and
mischief, brings some of Salinger's sly humor back to the film. It comes as
welcome relief. The scenes between Shakibai and his mother perhaps come
closest to the spirit of the original, and the shift in tone helps give the
film some balance. Writer/director Darkish Mehrjui has chosen to incorporate
another Salinger Glass family story, "A Perfect Day for a Banana Fish" into
PARI, and the scenes of Seymour's suicide -- seen once in flashback and again
in a non-linear episode -- give a little dramatic heft to an otherwise talky,
abstract film. But in PARI, the quiet suicide of a intellectual melancholic
is again given a spin that is both more fierce, visual and visceral, and less
in keeping with the author's tone of gentle desperation. Assad (Seymour)
dowses himself in gasoline, lies down placidly on his bed and immolates
himself. It's a transposition that best sums up what's both interesting and
overwhelming
about this film: the heat is there, but it's too often a scorcher. Niki, who
took the Best Actress prize at the San Sebastian Film Festival, translated
the Salinger
stories into Pharsi. "He has something in common with Herman Hesse," she
said. "They are both interested in human beings more than story." So too
PARI. Essential a portrait of youth in search of meaning and identity beyond
the sometimes suffocating confines of family, PARI pays less attention to
narrative drive, and so frequently bogs down in circular philosophical
conundra that,
for two hours, can have the same effect as a late-night college bull session.
And nobody thinks that's all that interesting.