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Gabbeh, a movie from 1996, written, directed and edited by Mohsen Makhmalbah, capturing its story from a tiny scene depicted on a Persian rug: a pair of lovers riding the horse.

Gabbehs are one of the many varieties of Persian rugs. They are hand-knotted by women belonging to Lori, Bakhtiari or Qashqai clans: shepherds wandering with their flocks over the Iranian mountains and beyond.

A gabbeh is small sized while much thicker than other rugs; its surface is a symphony of colors: the yellow of the sun, the red of flowers, the blue of sky, the green of grass, all of them meeting there. Life is color, love is color, beauty is color: colors of surrounding nature extended on the clothes they wear and on the gabbehs they craft, these women living under the sun and the clouds, on the grass and among flowers.

As rich in colors as it is, a gabbeh has usually a very basic pattern, sometimes just a small scene some place on the rug.

I am thinking at those Chinese drawings in ink on rice paper, at one corner with a tiny fisherman in a small boat: it's telling a story, the size of a spot, and all the space that remains is just what? emptiness? Or maybe the whole is telling a much larger story? about the artist, about the making of the artwork? The gabbeh from this movie resembles those Chinese drawings in this detail: there is a small scene on the surface, the size of a spot. A pair of lovers on horseback; and the whole surface of the rug, exploding in colors, subtly supporting the tiny story.

An old couple is carrying their gabbeh to wash it in the river, as they've done everyday, for forty years. It's become a ritual.

A gabbeh and a ritual: we enter the realm of magic. And magic is what we see in this movie: the gabbeh is getting alive, becoming a young woman who's telling the story of the pair of lovers. A story that has lasted for forty years.

We associate rituals with religious practices, while they mean more. Rituals keep alive the collective memory of civilizations. The more primitive a civilization the more obvious.

A ritual, with its precise details, with its precise repetitions, is to keep the remembrance alive: to participate again at an event of significance; to cancel time and to live when the event actually took place. Participation, not reenactment. Father Alexandre Schmemann wrote an admirable book about the Eucharist as Mystery of the Kingdom: you'll find there some great pages about remembrance as participation, as canceling time and be there to witness the Passion, the Death, and the Resurrection.

The ritual of washing the gabbeh here in the movie is personal: the story of the pair of lovers is remembered by the old couple everyday: remembrance as participation, canceling of time.

But, as I said, this scene of two lovers riding the horse is just a tiny part of the whole surface of the rug: the story of love is remembered within the remembrance of that pastoral civilization: the clan of shepherds migrating over the Zagros mountains in search of grass for their flocks. A clan carrying, together with its animals, its primitive culture with severe rules and taboos, necessary for survival. A community kept alive through the force of its culture, a culture kept alive through carefully observed rituals.

And here Parajanov comes in mind, of course, and not only him: also the Chinese Tian Zhuang-Zhuang. They also depicted in their movies ancient communities kept alive by the force of rituals, of traditions, rules that are difficult to be understood as they defy logic: these rules express a cultural matrix, a system of values that defines the group as a whole.

What Makhmalbaf brings in this depiction of a patriarchal culture is the use of colors and sounds: these people have a special sensibility for colors, they spend their lives surrounded by the colors of nature, by the vivid colors of their female clothes, by the colors they put in their gabbehs. And as they spend all their life outside, these people have a special understanding of the language of sounds, be them sounds of the birds or animals, be them sounds of the grass in the wind, of the rocks on the footpaths in the mountains, or of the river. And Makhmalbah succeeded to give an active role in his movie to each sound, to each color: by the way they are placed, by the way they are repeated, by the way they come along with the feelings of people. This movie is a feast to watch.

Mohsen Makhmalbaf has done it with every movie he's made. Gabbeh is a major film where beauty is presented in the original language of filmmaking: music -not only the "human music", rather than the music from the sounds of nature- and images -"life is color", "love is color" is said just twice in the film, but the entire film is exactly that: life and love, which is just color-. The expressiveness of the landscape, the Iranian women's clothing and fabric are the main characters of the film. Because masterpieces do not need words, high-tech, major budgets, nor even a plot. 60 minutes of beauty, that's Gabbeh.

Life is color, says one of the characters, and the dominant after-impression here is of the stunning array of bright hues; stamped against the desert like distinct life forces. In an early scene, an old man instructs a class on the colors of nature - reaching his hands outside the frame as if godlike - he touches the sky, and his hands come back blue; he stretches toward a meadow, and brings back flowers. It's too sincere and straightforwardly beautiful to be dismissed as a conjuring trick, and the film can't be regarded simply as a pictorial exercise, partly because it's just too difficult for that; the narrative is as subtle and allusive as the mastery of its dominant image - the carpet weaving. For example, when a young girl is killed while going after a kid goat on the mountain, it's symbolized simply by the rolling of a ball of black wool toward her sister; the ball then tumbles into the water and away. It would take a second viewing though to comment with confidence on all that actually happens in the film - narrative clarity is secondary to the nomadic wandering of the tribe, and above all to the film's impeccable visual design. Presumably enjoyed by western audiences mainly as a cultural digression; a lush window into another world, but I wonder how many of us are equipped to see through that window clearly.

In the '90s there was a new wave of Iranian directors. The two most prominent of them being Mohsen Makhmalbaf and Abbas Kiarostami. Makhmalbaf was the youngest of these two and is strongly influenced by the Islamic revolution of 1979.

Gabbeh is the name of a traditional Persian carpet made by nomads. The motifs on a gabbeh are not abstract (like in normal Persian carpets) but are real life representations.The film was originally meant as a sort of commercial for this type of carpets. Makhmalbaf became so intrigued with the subject that the project grew out to a feature length film.

One of the typical elements of Iranian movies is the story within a story. This is also the structure of "Gabbeh". An aged couple goes to a little stream to clean their gabbeh. During the washing the illustration on the carpet comes to live. This illustration is about the courting of a young couple. It is left to the imagination of the viewer to decide of the old - and the young couple are the same persons.

'Gabbeh" uses a very bright (not to say dazzling) color palette. This reminded me of films such as "The color of pomegranates" (1969, Sergei Parajanov) and above all "Ju Dou" (1990, Zhang Yimou).

I approached Mohsen Makhmalbaf's "Gabbeh" with high expectations as the film had won a lot of awards at minor film festivals, because Makhmalbaf himself is respected at major film festivals and finally because I am a votary of good Iranian cinema ("Gaav", "Aab, Baad, Khaak", "Devandeh", "Khab e talkh", etc.).

"Gabbeh" has all the credentials of an interesting film because of its clever combination of surrealistic and realistic vignettes of Iranian nomads and schools in tents, the rich color of the Iranian rural landscape, and finally the magical world of Persian carpet-making. The film's interesting end provides entertainment in a film that began repeating its visual and aural grammar. "Gabbeh" is not a bad film but somewhere halfway through the film, images of a great master of cinema seemed to be copied… In many ways "Gabbeh" is remarkably close to the works of a genius of cinema Sergei Paradjanov in the Sixties--"Color of Pomegranates" and "Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors." For those who have not seen these masterpieces of the late Armenian/Ukranian genius, Makhmalbaf's "Gabbeh" would seem truly unique and groundbreaking. For those fortunate to have seen Paradjanov's works, "Gabbeh" walks along a path well trodden by a little known giant of world cinema. If you loved "Gabbeh", see the works of Paradjanov...

But one has to admit Makhmalbaf's actors in "Gabbeh" were well chosen and interesting to watch and the interesting end (not too surprising for intelligent viewers, though) provided above average entertainment for 78 minutes.

While this film is a creditable work, it is not the finest example of the Iranian new wave cinema.

This visually stunning film tells the story of an old couple's gabbeh-a finely crafted Persian carpet. One day when they go to a nearby spring to wash the carpet, an attractive young woman appears suddenly and mysteriously-she is the apotheosis of the people whose tale is told in the carpet's woof and warp.

The film is a surrealistic folk tale. As she helps the old woman wash the carpet, the young woman (the spirit of the carpet) begins the tale of her life, which becomes the film's story. The film's charm lies in the magical use of color and water to tell a story. Young girls are everywhere in native dresses that complement the picturesque scenery with as many dabs of color as a French impressionist painting. The filmmaker here is an artist, adept at sunsets, drifting cotton-white clouds on a pristine blue canvas. Pastels, ultramarines, burnt siennas, ochres-there is a sensuous joy in the very colors of the earth and sky.

The world of the film is a kaleidoscope of color. Exotic birds appear from nowhere like bursts of sunset. Young women dress in native Iranian costumes of reds, golds, blues, and greens. And through it all, the sounds of flowing water, like little bells or delicate wind chimes, is given a palpable presence.

The Persian carpet, no longer mute, beguiles the viewer with its simple, haunting tale of people and places at once so ancient and new. The wolf-like howls of a young woman's lover merge with the sound of the water as it rills and flows over stones, pebbles, and sand. The water is itself a comment on the people whose lives are lived within its boundaries. The magical and surrealistic elements of the peasant girl's story weave themselves into a fairy-tale. What enchantment there is in a young woman's quest for love and continuity. The very air is rich with the colors, sights, and sounds-the spices and incense of the Near East.

The movie Gabbeh is an Iranian film directed by Mohsen Makhmalbaf features a mythical young woman longing to be married to the horseback stranger from another clan. Gabbeh is a magical, colorful love story filmed in Iran with the dialect spoken in their native tongue. There are subtitle in the film but the dialog is kept to minimum. The young woman, Gabbeh, is played by Shaghayeh Djodat. However she is not permitted to marry him until her uncle played by Abbas Sayah marries before she does. This mythical young woman appears when an elderly couple goes through their routine of cleaning their gabbeh, while squabbling gently with each other. Magically the young woman appears and helps them to clean the rug. This young woman belongs to the clan whose history is depicted in the design of the gabbeh, and the rug recounts the story of the courtship of the young woman by a stranger from the clan. The girl's story is almost like a fairytale but in actuality encompasses the old woman's real-life struggle with daily life and accomplishing her aspiration of matrimony. Makhmalbaf's uses this film to show his impassioned analysis of poverty, the oppressiveness of tradition or the loneliness of women in a patriarchal society in Iran. He hides his analysis by the usage of color which is prevalent throughout the whole movie. The vibrant colors that the women wear in the movie are a source of solidarity for women and give them an outlet to express themselves in the patriarchal society. This passionate love story offers a glimpse into a society that as Westerners we know little about and have many misconceptions about. This Iranian film is the 1st I have seen from the region and has definitely spurred my interest in seeing more films from this director.

GABBEH is so magical, colorful and involving that it makes me feel like a child listening a "once upon a time" story. The film is superb. Every scene is pure magic. At the end, you feel like you were dreaming: a beautiful shining dream. Don't worry if you want to see again and again again... See it now - if it's possible. 10/10

I saw this film several years ago when it was first released in the United States and have waited anxiously ever since for it to be released on DVD. The beauty of costume and scenery is enthralling but no less captivating is the love story surrounded by the cultural strictures which have a mythic overlay. Although half my family is Iranian, like most Iranian films, I think it requires more than one viewing to follow and absorb the story line but is well worth the effort. It is a romantic film in the true sense of the word, leaving one with a sense of completion and fulfillment. It is a film for those who have patience and love art and enjoy being swept into another world.

A carpet. Few stories as seeds of humanity. Waves of color. Shadows of existence. A huge carpet. Love as threads of this carpet. A parable, a fairy tale, fragment of a honeycomb with mythical honey. Picture of a world in which past and present are a single stitch carpet.Colors, faces music in a mixture who lives in roots of a way to see and describe the universe.. Traditions and games. Confesions of a spirit and water as Ariadne thread. And images. Seductive, fragile, powerful and harsh. Looks as signs of time who is almost piece of clay. A wonderful Iranian movie about the small eternal truth. Twoo old people. A carpet. And a story. The result - an overwhelming beauty.

I'm giving this movie a 3 because, despite its esthetic strengths, it's a movie that indulges in self-folklorization and self-orientalism, a movie that depicts a journey by an Iranian nomadic tribe, or rather family, in a folklorizing and essentializing manner: the nomadic tribe is portrayed as an essentially primitive, unemotional, animal-like group of colorful heaps of clothes who don't have a human-like notion of time or space or even a decent grip on reality, who act, sound and move like goats, chicken and wolves. The pseudo- spontaneous esthetics on which this movie relies emphasizes this point by sneaking in convoluted similarities between the nomads and those animals.

The esthetics of the movie is so intricately designed and so contrived, but deceitfully left to be seen as 'spontaneous' in order to quench what the filmmakers take to be an unquenchable thirst of European viewers for 'exotic beauty and oriental esthetics', which the movie relatively succeeded in doing, seeing the acclaim it received in European countries.

The visual symbolism in the movie is so stark that it borders on being unartistic. The depiction of the landscape is beautiful, but this is something you can get if you watch a NatGeo reportage on 'Peoples and Cultures', and not something you would necessarily demand of a cinematic movie.

The movie, to me, was emotionless. It did not harbor any kind of emotion towards the subjects of the movie: hatred, love, empathy, nothing, except probably some curiosity towards those 'cinematically bizarre creatures'.

The soundtrack in the movie was boring, sometimes inappropriate and sometimes utterly annoying because of the constant bleats of goats and the irksome inexplicable howls of one of the heroes.

Besides, the movie is unbearably boring. The contrived esthetics and breathtaking landscape did not prevent me from feeling utterly bored. I had to resist sleep several times during its relatively short runtime of 75 minutes.

I don't recommend watching this movie, unless there's no NatGeo reportage on nomadic tribes in Iran, or you're doing graduate studies on self-orientalism in cinema...

The most enchanting movie I have seen in a long time. Visually stunning and breathtaking, like a trip to a museum that is rich with colorful paintings. Many beautifully chanted songs and little dialog. The best Iranian movie I have seen. And on an international level, it's the most artistic, yet not boring. The story comes out in colors, songs, and little dialog (suitable for those who don't like reading sub-titles).

This movie marries a fiction story with a documentary about a tribe and their tradition to make Gabbeh, a hand-woven carpet. The screenplay is very original and unusual -- in a good way. It definitely does not follow the clear-cut Hollywood recipe. This might confuse some viewers but this movie would be seen as a gem by other viewers who enjoy creativity.

(1996) Gabbeh (In Iran/ Persian with English subtitles) FANTASY/ DRAMA

Edited, written and directed by Mohsen Makhmalbaf that consists of a similar idea to films as "How To Make An American Quilt" and "Little Big Man" or "A Man Called Horse" where it has a blanket revealing a story or a folklore tale or a myth. And in order for anyone to understand this demands the right frame of mind, and to be familiar with Iranian rituals and customs for it's completely plot less, using surrealism in some scenes and then using imagery of landscapes on others. The word "Gabbeh" is a name of an interwoven blanket with pictures, telling a story in Iranian fashion in which the beginning is boring as I'm totally oblivious about Iranian culture but gets more interesting as the film progresses.

I'm giving this film a rather low mark because I think it estheticizes the plight of nomadic peoples in this part of the world. I own a number of the carpets these people make, love them very much, and consequently, much admire the people who make them, but I thought this film was trying to be too poetic and therefore didn't convey the truth of these people's existence. There were, however, some stunning scenes of what that kind of nomadic life can produce.

«Gabbeh» is the first movie from Iran that I saw. And I'm so happy because since then, I've seen 5 or 6 and all of them were to my eyes excellent.

This movie is simple, poignant and beautiful. It's poetic and magic at the same time. The visual is also fantastic. Truly enchanting.

Out of 100, I gave it 87.

I found "Gabbeh" boring. It was nearly impossible for me to sit through. There was no excitement. In this film, the director is an artist. Mosen Makhmalbaf does a great job on using colors throughout the movie, but that's the only good thing that I saw. The costumes, the Persian carpet, the sky and landscape vividly show Mosen Makhmalbaf's use of color. I didn't really understand the story at all. Other than the colors, the movie has nothing going for itself. The story wasn't interesting and I didn't feel engaged at all. I will never watch this film again. I get that Mosen Makhmalbaf wanted to display a work of art, but when half of the class is completely clueless there is confusion behind the meaning of the story, don't you think something is wrong?

Is it racist to insist that this is the most beautiful film I have ever seen? I say racist, because much of what is 'merely' beautiful to me is part of a rich symbolic texture I couldn't always get; concentrating on aesthetics may seem to rob a film of its political force. That it has such force is proven by its being banned in its country of origin - Makhmalbaf's hiding behind allegory cannot disguise his impassioned analysis of poverty, the oppressiveness of tradition or the loneliness of women in a patriarchal society. This is a film full of nature's marvel, yet shows how 'nature' is often used to justify social repression - as the teacher's lesson demonstrates, if the creation of the gabbeh (an ornamental, narrative carpet) is art in nature's image, than nature (and the rules it inspires) is merely a recreation of ours.