Daughters of Malakeh (2011)

Directed by: Jet Homoet, Sharog Heshmat Manesh | 78 minutes | documentary

Researcher Sharog Hesmat Manesh, affiliated with the Cultural and Social Education department of the Amsterdam University of Applied Sciences, travels to his family in Iran to help his sister with her upcoming marriage. He must have thought that his family and his two sisters in particular are an interesting object of study, as he is accompanied by a camera to record his visit.

The family has been notified in advance of the camera and instructed to ignore it as much as possible; son and brother Sharog want to make a documentary, “well go ahead” you see them thinking. Gradually, the family members’ gazes avoid the camera, but they don’t really forget its presence. This is where it starts to wreak havoc in Sharog’s documentary, on the one hand we get to see an intimate picture of a family in Iran, on the other hand we also get the feeling that we are constantly being cut off from the details that matter . As if we are that strange Dutch acquaintance that came along, we are accepted, we get a look behind the scenes, but we don’t really get the feeling of being a part of the ups and downs, as in the incomparable documentary ‘Stand van de Sterren ‘ by Leonard Retel Helmrich.

Unfortunately, Sharog also fails to generalize the theme of his sister Maryam’s dependency position. We accompany his mother on a shopping trip through the city, sister Maryam travels to work by public transport, younger sister Ghazal talks about love and marriage in Iran during English class, but for the rest Iran remains mainly outside the walls of the parental home.

‘Daughters of Malakeh’ is certainly not a bad documentary. That’s why the story about sister Maryam who finally wants to get married at 45, but has difficulty surrendering her freedom to the arbitrariness of a man and tries in vain to secure a piece of self-determination through all kinds of marriage agreements, too interesting and at times also humorous. It is a pity that there are no more scenes such as the moment in which sister Maryam is completely disappointed with the situation and of her future husband, and draws a comparison with wearing the headscarf. She indicates that she does not believe in the headscarf, but she still has to wear it. “Why is that?” she wonders and just before that she has already given the answer: “Because I live in Iran.”

In that one scene and in that one statement, the clash between the individual and the community is perfectly articulated. Our lives are sometimes determined by incomprehensible and especially for women restrictive constructions imposed from above. Maryam wants a man, she wants to leave the house, she is already 45, but does not understand why she has to give up a large part of her freedom; a freedom she doesn’t want to part with at her age. What if she doesn’t like the marriage, can she get a divorce? Oppressive prenuptial agreements and the headscarf are not age-old cultural traditions, but political agreements that were once devised, implemented and sometimes brutally enforced. Whether you believe in it or not, you are supposed to be playing the game.

In the end Maryam also has to play this game again. The bitterness of this is clearly visible on her face.