Davandeh

It is a picture of an orphan boy Amiro living alone in an old ship, he enjoys racing with his friends and makes a living by collecting waste or empty bottles, selling ice water or shining shoes. The airplanes and the boats fascinate him: when they pass, far away in the mist, he screams: "Take me on board". This film just presents its story in a straightforward, objective, slice-of-life manner. I think that's why it's so great than other films which have tried to squeeze a tear from the viewers eye as a sensational expose of juvenile delinquency. The film neglects the focus on the mundane specifics of the boy's daily life and concentrates on the boy's inner, emotional ups and downs. And this is what gives the film near-universal appeal. The scenes in this film have been carefully staged by Naderi and his cinematographer, Firooz Malekzadeh, with superb moving-camera and panning shots, often with long-lens and short depth-of-field imagery, kept gracefully in frame. Madjid Niroumand is wonderful in the role of Amiro, you don't see young actors like this anymore: very rare this expressive, this natural, this charismatic, this confident in front of the camera and talented. Although of dramatic nature, there are elements of comedy in this great film. Amiro is often funny and so is his good friend, he is hilarious in every scene he shows up, even though his role is minor and he barely talks. I recommend this to everyone, see this atleast once, you will definitely add this in your list of favourite world cinemas.

If it's true that environment determines character then young Amiro must be something of a hero for having survived so well against such overwhelming odds. Orphaned and illiterate, he wanders the desolate waterfront of a nameless Iranian city, living each day on whatever loose change he can honestly acquire: selling ice water, shining shoes, or foraging for empty bottles at low tide (while oil-laden tankers line the distant horizon).

But the poverty of his surroundings can't dim the dignity of his spirit, in much the same way that the unflinching honesty of the film helps to give it an often exhilarating power. What passes for a storyline is closer in spirit to a cultural documentary, pieced together from several swift, abbreviated episodes leading to the final, profound image of Amiro exultant, holding aloft a large block of ice (the goal of one of his many running 'competitions') while the controlled fires of a nearby oil field rage in the background.

Director Amir Nader was fortunate to cast in the title role a young boy whose face betrays every emotion, from exuberance to heartbreak, and communicates his thoughts independent of the sometimes illegible English subtitles. In its own quiet way it's a stunning film, and a rare, rewarding glimpse of daily life in a little understood part of the world.

I borrowed this one at the local library, and was impressed by it.

It is about a kid living alone on an shored boat. He makes his living by shining shoes, selling cold water to the dock workers. And he and his friends play games like seeing who can run the longest behind the train. The kid in this movie has a powerful will and passion for life.

He turns up at the local school, begging the teacher to let him join class. He says he will do whatever it takes. So he gets the opportunity to learn to read, and does this with passion. He is smart and it all makes a very powerful movie. This little boy had God inside.

Davandeh (The runner) is a cinematic ode to the spirit of Amiro, a young orphan boy who seeks to excel in what ever he does, to know more and look beyond his present boundaries, and to seek this knowledge through formal education that has eluded him thus far in life. Without a doubt, the movie is a treat to watch.

The opening shot is of the young boy yelling out a greeting at a distant sea vessel. You wonder what is wrong with the kid. As the film progresses you learn that he is an orphan. He is a normal kid, yearning to know more about the world beyond his immediate boundaries—the big ship and aircrafts symbolize this quest.

But then Amiro is not a normal kid. He also wishes to excel within his known boundaries. He tries to collect more floating bottles in the sea than other orphan boys of his age so that he can earn more and buy magazines with colorful pictures of aircrafts. He is a loner (he lives alone in an old grounded ship) but likes to prove his ability to run with his peers, and beat them in marathon races chasing moving trains. The film is called "The runner" as Amiro's running ability is underlined three times in the film—first he runs behind the train and wins a psychological race over his peers, then he runs after a cyclist who tries to avoid paying him for the cool water and catches up with him, and finally running with a block of ice that he has bought while others try to rob him of it, against a backdrop of oil fires. But then aren't we all "runners" of some sort in real life?

Naderi's Amiro becomes larger than life in his next quest. He is persistent in his efforts to learn the alphabet by literally knocking on the doors of the nearest school. By the end of the film Amiro is reciting the alphabets he has learned in school while looking at the symbols of his quest to reach the unknown distant world, beyond his physical vision. It is a literal and figurative quest.

Having seen Amir Naderi's film Aab, Baad, Khaak (Water, wind, dust) also with Majid Niroumand (Amiro of Davandeh) only a day before, Davandeh's power as great cinema was a trifle diluted.

What did Naderi's Aab, Baad, Khaak present that Naderi's Davandeh could not?

1. Davandeh totally excludes women, which Aaab, Baad, Khaak does not. Even in the latter they are marginal. 2. Davandeh revolves around an individual, while Aaab, Baad, Khaak is critical of society as seen through the eyes of a boy. 3. Davandeh captures temperatures (ice block vs. burning oil wells) but Aaab, Baad, Khaak is able to capture all the elements of nature (water wind, dust) that affect the average Iranian living on the fringes of society. 4. Amiro of Davandeh was somewhat larger than life in his quest for knowledge unlike his realistic role in Aaab, Baad, Khaak. 5. Davandeh leans towards veiled political criticism, while Aaab, Baad, Khaak is a pure social and psychological essay without obvious political undertones

Why is Naderi avoiding female characters? Why is Davandeh underlining that foreign lands offer more than one's own (apart from financial disparities)? It is not surprising that Naderi having made these films in Iran, won accolades at international film festivals and now lives in the US far from his native land that provided fodder for his creativity.

Amir Naderi is a pivotal figure in Iranian cinema, both before and after the revolution. In fact, considering the past two decades, we can also observe his contributions to European and American cinema.

"Davandeh" (The Runner), etched in history as the first film made after the Iranian Islamic Revolution, bears the marks of this tumultuous period (with not even a single female cast member to fill the screen).

Perhaps due to Naderi's background as a photographer, he, along with cinematographer Firooz Malekzadeh, has captured some truly epic frames. So much so that I found myself wanting to pause and take screenshots at numerous points throughout the film.

While the film has been praised for its authentic portrayal of Iran's encounter with modernity, for Iranian cinema enthusiasts like myself, it presents a rather problematic progression and handling of the subject matter.

It's as if Naderi had a premonition of what was to befall Iran (he wouldn't have fled to the US if he didn't have foresight), and in the screenplay, he abandoned decades of Iranian cinema's know-how in favor of the Orientalism desired by Western cinema. This is evident in the scenes where European Union flags are conspicuously placed within the frame, and the protagonist's gaze towards them raises questions about the script's credibility.

As one of the rare Iranian films featuring the sea (and even a shark), it's likely that this very aspect secured its immediate acceptance into the Venice Film Festival.

We are confronted with an editing style and protagonist tracking that is quite unfamiliar to us in Iranian cinema (or at least to the world, and to us Turks, accustomed to Yesilcam Cinema). The majority of the scenes serve neither the main character's development arc nor the overall narrative.

Despite its inherent flaws, this film, a significant piece within the Iranian cinema landscape, was recently restored in 4K by Criterion. If you happen to come across it, I recommend at least a cursory viewing.