Kinder des Himmels

Children of Heaven, which is Iran's selection for best foreign film at the Academy Awards, is a very good movie mainly because anyone in this world can relate to the topic of family and showing love to each other no matter the living circumstances. As an Iranian film, it is definitely played safe but a film with such an universal theme and elegantly told as here should really not be missed, especially by movie-lovers.

Majid Majidi's film is about a young boy named Ali who accidentally lost his sister Zahra's shoes. But their family can ill afford to buy new shoes, Ali decides to share his shoes with his sister until he can get new ones for her and so he can avoid punishment.

The acting is pretty good, and pretty heartfelt. There is no questioning the chemistry between Amir Farrokh Hashemian as Ali and Bahare Seddiqi as Zahra. Reza Naji who plays as their father is also good as the man who is trying to do all he can to provide food for his family.

Overall, Children of Heaven is a simple film but it displays a strong message about the bond of family. There are some talented films from the Middle East and this is one of them. It's a strong film about courage and about doing what's right. My favorite scene is where the father and the son leave their poor slums as they head uptown to the rich neighborhoods. This film shows how American kids are vastly different than kids from these parts of the world.....and not exactly in a good way. This film is a little too simple for me, but there is no denying how powerful this film is. I rate this film 8/10.

Majid Majidi is a genius. He is a director and actor of great talent. This film presents a sweet story of a brother and sister, their bond and their unique solution to solving the problem of a pair of lost shoes. The child actors are adorable and utterly convincing and the production of the film is of such quality that you get lost in watching it. The story itself is humorous, at times, and inspiring. Though the premise may be simple, each scene is infused with such passion, beauty and emotion that the experience of viewing this film is anything but simple. To all who have yet to view the film, take note of the very last scene.

Majid Majidi's Bacheha-Ye Aseman is a fascinating and deeply moving piece. It is a children movie which will be equally enjoyed by adults, and that's simply because it will take any adult back to their childhood days, back to the days when they did something wrong and were afraid to confess to their parents. The film was made with great simplicity and soul, and its impact is perfectly made through the characters of Ali and Zahra, two amazing kids who can set an example to anyone. Majidi brilliantly captures the world of these young golden-hearted creatures. They are smart, intelligent, innocent, respectful and caring. It's quite impressive to see how little kids pay respect to their seniors, what moral values they have, and their tender care for their parents' economic status and daily struggle is particularly moving. More than anything, it is their own sibling relationship which tugs at the heartstrings. Majidi's portrayal of the neighbourhood, the school where the kids study, and their own home, is most lifelike and authentic. Without a doubt, the script is the film's main winner, but the casting is one of the film's biggest strengths. Amir Farrokh Hashemian and Bahare Seddiqi are astonishing in their roles - charming, convincing, heartbreaking and totally relatable. You really feel for these kids and really want to settle their problems so that they can move on. This film is a true example of superb acting by child artists, and it shows how far they can go in their ability to explore the innocent spirit of childhood. Bacheha-Ye Aseman is a wonderful cinematic experience, which must not be missed by anyone. Just go and grab your seat, I assure it will keep you on the edge of it for one hour and a half and will be engraved in your heart long afterwards.

This translates to MUST-SEE! It's a credulous incredible storytelling of a young brother and sister in Tehran, and the adventurous saga around one very important pair of sneakers.

The two young actors are amazing -- they play their guileless naïve sensitivity with such earnestness! Central character, Ali, the 9 year old brother, is Mir Farrokh Hashemian, who really carried the film with his legwork, and the younger sister Zahra is Bahareh Seddiqui, who contributed her restrained share of screen presence. The pair is so natural: those furrowed faces, anxious knitted brows -- the range of sad faces the two came up with! The bond between the brother and sister is so warm and joyful - in spite of misfortunes.

The storyline is seemingly simple. Such story-weaving knack writer-director Majid Majidi has -- he can make chasing along a streaming gutter into an intense dramatic episode! The story has the texture likened to a Thomas Hardy novel (poverty setting, episode after episode, turn of events), yet such a relishingly simple delivery. He doesn't have to tell it all on the screen -- little nuances and observations suffice.

It's heartening to see young children who are polite and respectful to their elders, responsible and caring in dealing with their everyday problems, and not give up -- such quiet fortitude in spite of disappointments, such tolerance of their circumstance yet still able to find joy in little things. We catch a smile here and there, e.g., when they enjoy the impromptu soap bubbles, or when he encouraged his sister by giving her small tokens.

This is an absolute gem of a family (value) film. Children's emotions untapped, yet adults are not left out -- touches of grown-up connections: the parents, the elderly couple next door, the shop-owners, all made this world very real.

The camerawork, and the well-designed use of sound mixed with accompanying music (different tonal quality instruments were applied) complemented this cinematic experience. A poetic ending -- there's a serenity about it all.

I hope "Children of Heaven" will win this year's 71st Academy Award Best Foreign Film Oscar -- it will receive its due exposure and more people will experience this gem.

Along the lines of poverty and shoes, I thought of the Italian 1978's "The Tree of the Wooden Clogs" by writer-director Ermanno Olmi. And, on a story with substance and good acting by an Iranian young boy, there's 1989's "Bashu, The Little Stranger", by writer-director Bahram Beizai. Both are movies to be appreciated.

Majid Majidi's Children of Heaven is such an extraordinary work of movie-making that it is in a realm of movies that are able to connect with anyone who remembers (or is amidst) their childhood, regardless of what country they come from. (Note: Films that have a universal appeal aren't necessarily better than films that only appeal to people from one or two countries, but making a film with a universal appeal is no easy task.) A boy named Ali (Amir Farrokh Hashemian) loses his sister Zahra's ((Bahare Seddiqi) running shoes; Zahra threatens to tell their father (Mohammad Amir Naji). Petrified at his father's temper, Ali promises his sister that he will get his sister some new shoes as soon as possible. In the meantime, the two work out a tight shoe-switching schedule. The plot is inventive and provides some decent chuckles-good writing and comic timing. Hashemian is likable and relatable though he milks the babyish whimpering to an annoying extent. Naji is able to give us a stronger feeling that we are watching a real person on screen than any of the other actors in the film. It is not until the last ten minutes of the film, however, that we are swept up in a crazy whirlwind of emotion, jolting from despair to joy to suspense (though not in that order) and the last ten minutes can make a movie great. Majidi gives us homage to The Four Hundred Blows. The ending to Majidi's movie is somewhat similar to that of Francois Truffaut's; both movies contain the feeling of extreme desperation, but Ali has a goal in his life while Antoine Doinel (Jean-Pierre Léaud) is boldly going nowhere. Truffaut's film concludes with brilliant ambiguity, leaving us wondering whether Doinel's last five minutes on screen were triumphant or pathetic; Majidi does something quite similar (less ambitiously) in a way I would not dream of revealing.