Zeit der trunkenen Pferde

Iran must have a very strong storytelling tradition, because I've seen about 7 movies from there in the last year and (with the exception of The Wind Will Carry Us), they've all been amazing. Next to the White Balloon this one was my favorite. Months after seeing it I still feel awful about complaining about traffic or any of the "problems" in my life when I think of the things a 12 year old Ayoub had to deal with (my big problem when I was 12, my mom threatening to throw my baseball cards away, doesn't quite compare...). It's so rare to see such a display of devotion, perseverance, maturity that doesn't look totally contrived. Add to that that these were all amateur actors and you end up with something from the heart that has a lot of depth. 9/10

I wasn't sure where this movie was going for the first 15 minutes, but before long I was drawn into the story like the rest of the audience. This could be considered in the "Indy" film class, but whatever rough edges it might have only add to the impact of the story. Reason tells me it was fiction, but I really had the feeling we were there, or at least that one of the characters was filming the whole thing with a handicam.

The filmmaker did what he set out to do: He make a film that makes us care about some of his people. The conditions these people struggle under are appalling, and are made all the more difficult by politics. My girlfriend and I left the theatre wondering where we could find out more about these people and what can be done for them.

The young actors, especially Madi, are as good as - and perhaps better than - any $20 million Hollywood superstar. This is Film, not a Hollywood formula flick, and the story is worth seeing, however bleak it may seem at times.

Beautiful movie about the Kurdish people, living in the mountains separating Iran, Iraq and Turkey. Strong performances by the children in this movie. Look at Amaneh's eyes and tell me that you don't see the desperation. Another film in the tradition of Gabbeh and The Children of Heaven. Simple but poignant.

This film is about the lose of childhood, a similar theme that is very common among many other Kurdish films, including Karzan Kardozi's I Want to Live (2015), and Yilmaz Gunye's The Wall (1983). These three films reflect the reality of the Kurdish people living under oppression in countries of Syria, Iraq, Iran and Turkey.

"Time of Drunken Horses" is an uncompromising film about love and perseverance. It closely resembles the Iranian film, "Color of Paradise", and the Chinese "Not One Less" in its simplicity and its unrelenting message as well as using skilled child and adult actors in real-life settings. Filmmaker Bahman Ghobadi reminds us up front that we in the West don't understand the plight of the Kurdish refugees, numbering 20 million in Iran, Iraq, Syria, and Turkey. "Time of Drunken Horses" is both an important lesson as well as a powerful homage to the suffering Kurdish people. To its credit, the film does depict the suffering as sympathy but rather as heroic and noble. When children have to fight for work in the marketplace, usually carrying heavy contraband on their backs, or when they have to trudge through deep snow to return to their village, or when they sing childhood songs about how they are aging so fast, there is a surprising energy and enthusiasm. The film takes its viewpoint from three children - a teenage boy, Ayoub, placed in charge of a disintegrating family, his younger sister, Amaneh, and the crippled and sick brother, Madi. The father has died in a landmine accident and the step-mother is away leaving the children in the hands of an already burdened uncle with eight children of his own. Madi needs an operation to extend his life another 7 or 8 months; otherwise, he will died soon. The love extended to this midget child is remarkable from the brother and sisters (one even accepts marriage in exchange for obtaining the needed operation) to the kindly doctor who comes regularly to give injections. That is the one irony that this film plainly wants to get across. We are blest with modern medicine is at our fingertips and yet we can decide to withhold care if it appears to be futile. How, then, can we understand, in a society in which there is so little, the determination of one boy to extend the live of someone he truly loves when the odds are overwhelmingly against him. The final scene merely strengthens the powerful message of "Time of Drunken Horses" as the boy and his crippled brother valiantly march off in the snow to a future we know will not be pleasant.