Reviewed by Jen Reinhardt

He who has faith will never get lost. He who is at peace won't lose his way. —Bab'Aziz.

"Bab'Aziz" poster: your purchase in part benefits Levantine Cultural CenterWatching "Bab'Aziz" reminded me of how much I had become accustomed to Western cinematic conventions such as linear temporality and narrative structure. Akin to the dance of a whirling dervish (i.e. a Sufi Muslim ascetic), this film blends together a kaleidoscope of tales with breathtaking dreamscapes shot by celebrated Iranian photographer and cinematographer Mahmoud Kalari and an original musical score by Israeli composer Armand Amar. (The film costars Golshifteh Farahani.)

Co-written by Tunisian director Nacer Khemir, "Bab'Aziz" (2006) is the third and final installment of his "Desert Trilogy," and loosely follows the story of blind dervish, Bab'Aziz, and his granddaughter, Ishtar, as they embark on an eventful journey through the desert. Much like "A Thousand and One Nights," in which Scheherazade entertains the Prince with her tales and postpones her death by prolonging the ending until the following day, in order to keep Ishtar entertained on their search for the gathering of the Dervish that occurs once every thirty years, Bab'Aziz spins the story of a prince who one fateful day leaves his kingdom and becomes transfixed by his reflection.

But rather than seeing the reflection of his own face, as the familiar theme of Narcissus might suggest, the prince in this tale sees his own soul and falls into such lengthy contemplation of the Unseen that he eventually leaves the visible world for the invisible one. (This parable mirrors Kahlil Gibran's famous saying that "he who is the true prince finds his throne in the heart of the dervish.")

Mystic experiences in "Bab'Aziz"Making a film that exposes viewers to an open and tolerant Islam was a deliberate political choice of Khemir, focusing on the wisdom and spirituality of Islamic beliefs rather than the radical fundamentalism that so dominates post-9/11 discourse. Khemir often explains his choice with the following allegory:

"Suppose you are walking alongside your father and he suddenly falls down, his face in the mud. What would you do? You would help him stand up, and wipe his face with your shirt. My father's face stands for Islam, and I tried to wipe Islam's face clean with my movie."

While considering this Sufi theme for awhile, the actual inspiration for "Bab'Aziz" came from a postcard his sister sent of a beautiful plate painted in 12th century Iran bearing the inscription "the prince who contemplated his own soul." Building upon this image, Khemir shot the film in the Tunisian desert of Tataouine (also made famous by George Lucas as the location for much of the filming of the original "Star Wars"), in the central Iranian desert near Anarak including the city of Kashan (where this plate was originally made), and the antique city of Bam (destroyed by an earthquake in 2003, a few months after this movie was shot).

The pluralistic dimension of "Bab'Aziz" (shot in both Iran and Tunisia, spoken in Farsi and Arabic, co-produced by French, Iranian, Tunisian, German, Hungarian, and British companies) is striking, and complicates any attempts to classify this movie using rigid formulae. Storylines blur the boundary between reality and fantasy. Characters freely mingle with the accompanying live performances of Amar's score, which in itself fuses together musical elements of Northern Africa, the Middle East, and Europe; and every once in a while a motorcycle appears and disrupts the illusion that all is taking place in some far off mystical realm.

a scene from "Bab'Aziz"While all characters in "Bab'Aziz" have different motivations for seeking the dervish festival (whether to hear the end of a story, avenge a brother's death, find paradise, or reunite with one's beloved) and travel by different routes (mountain, sea, and desert) the underlying theme remains the same. As the ancient Sufi proverb states, "There are as many paths to God as there are souls on Earth." Indeed, if any sole message is to be taken away from this movie, it is to encourage people to lay aside their differences and listen to one another. Only then can we begin to understand our neighbors and practice true hospitality.

 
Jen Reinhardt is a writer in Los Angeles and a program associate at Levantine Cultural Center.