Notes on Amir Naderi’s Davandeh
One of the first Iranian films of the post-revolutionary, second-wave of the so-called Iranian new wave to find an audience outside Iran, was Amir Naderi’s Davandeh (The Runner, 1985). This original film blends an expressive, image-driven cinematic style with neo-realism, and became the subject of sharp criticism upon its release, only later to be lauded as a landmark of Iranian cinema. Davandeh has its own energy and exuberance that celebrates the life, but also the struggles of a young boy by the name of Amiro. Amiro is orphaned, perhaps during the Iran-Iraq war, and the film depicts a society of poverty, but also one of great contrasts. Nevertheless, Amiro is a happy child full of ideas and energy, and this partly autobiographical film never becomes sentimental.
The following text is an excerpt from an evening of conversation between the filmmakers Kaveh Tehrani and Sina Ataeian Dena about Davandeh. With the ambition to unveil some notes on this particular film and historical moment of Iranian cinema, Tehrani asked Dena what the film has meant to him. Seeing Davandeh while growing up in Southern Iran in the 1980s became a formative experience that later led Dena to further explore cinema.
Sina Ataeian Dena: I remember the first time I saw Davandeh. It was on national television. I caught a glimpse of the film during a family gathering, and I couldn’t take my eyes of it. I was mesmerized. Later when I watched the film on a big screen, I realized that this is in my opinion the most important film of Iranian Cinema. In terms of its influence and because of the unique and fresh experience it offers to the audience. It still feels fresh to me now, in 2018.
Kaveh Tehrani: The film must have reminded you of the place you yourself grew up?
SAE: I grew up in Ahwaz. Amir Naderi is from Abadan. Yes, it is similar in many ways. I think Amiro, the boy in the film, has strong autobiographical traits. But Davandeh was shot in many places. The film seems to belong to one place specifically, but in fact, it was shot in many different locations, from Abadan, along the coast to Chabahar. And if you look closely you see that Amiro’s hair is sometimes longer, sometimes shorter, indicating that the film was shot over a long period of time.
KT: So rather than observing this young boy in his natural surroundings, he is placed in the world of this film?
SAE: If it’s naturalistic or ethnographic? Yes and no. It does not belong to one place. And it is not simply observed reality. It is a world of images, a cinematic world created by a cinema lover. He is expressing himself through the images of this film. To me, formally, the film still feels so energetic. It is such a celebration of life and cinema!
KT: And yet this world is fiercely competitive, and not innocent or naïve. It seems there is a contrast between the innocence of childhood and the competition between these boys, but also some threats – like the scene with the man who takes off refusing to pay for the ice water that Amiro sells. Not to mention the run-in with the drunken sailor and all the goods floating around the harbour. The race for that ice-cold bottle of Fanta, and the struggle to get to the top of the hill of gravel, as seen in one of the scenes.
SAE: I understand it more like a coherent universe on its own. About the brands, for example, all the port cities got those products at that time. Even before Tehran. It came with the sailors: Lee, Ray Bans and Fanta and all the foreign magazines in the film, so I don’t necessarily think it is about the commodities of capitalism per se. It is part of the environment of this port city.
KT: But there is the struggle always to be better. And to learn. The film was produced by Kanoon (Institute for the Intellectual Development of Children and Young Adults). Was this a part of their agenda, to make a film about the struggle of learning? To nudge kids to learn and go to school?
SAE: Some of the most radical cinema of the time came from Kanoon. Yet, I don’t think they had that kind of strict agenda. In fact, Naderi himself learnt to read late, so I think this is also something that comes very much from him, which makes him even more interesting. I would say that he is a natural born filmmaker.
KT: The scene when he tears up the magazine he just bought …
SAE: And of him learning the alphabet. It is much bigger that just ‘learning’, I don’t find the film simply serving that one purpose. It is richer and more complex. Naderi uses the images and poetry of cinema to speak of this young boy’s struggles, humiliation and frustration.
KT: And he never gives up …
SAE: No way! Never. He is so insistent. Headstrong. To me this is the strongest and most radical feat of Davandeh. We never ‘look down’ on Amiro. Even though he, in terms of class, is bottom-rung. Amiro keeps reaching for new things in life, in a life-affirming and exuberant manner. He keeps on going!
KT: There is no pity.
SAE: No. We admire him. Naderi places Amiro above us. And that gives him agency and power over his own life in an elaborated way.
KT: Later on, Abbas Kiarostami follows this story further.
SAE: Yes. Abbas Kiarostami’s middle length debut Tajrobeh (The Experience, 1973) is co-written by Amir Naderi and follows this boy to Tehran, where he works in a photo store. Like Amir Naderi himself did.