Buddha Collapsed Out of Shame.

Buddha Collapsed Out of Shame (Buda As Sharm Foru Rikht). Hana Makhmalbaf (2007).

Last Saturday I went to the cinema. I saw an impressive, touching film which shocked me. This is an interesing story full of pain and beauty. The main character is a little girl who just wants to buy a notebook and a pen to go to school but he does not live in a west country, she lives in Afghanistan. The girl is harassed by boys playing games cruelly mimicking their violent society. The boys want to stone Baktay (the child) or destroy her like the Buddha or shoot her like the Americans do in the labyrinth of caves. Will Baktay be able to overcome these obstacles in order to learn the alphabets of her mother tongue?

The film is a poetic and frightening journey into the minds of the children who live in the desolate area where the Talibans’s destruction of cultural treasures sickened the world – and children affected by violence everywhere. The story is a reflection of war and the seemingly unbreakable cycle of violence in children.

Since the cute little Baktay serves as the narrative guide on this journey, it is very easy for the viewers to empathize with her aspirations and disappointments, despite the very basic dialogue. The purity of the child and her struggles illustrate the very core of Afghanistan's problems and challenges, as the audience experiences first-hand the ruthlessness of the Taliban via the boys' war game.

Very common for Makhmalbaf, is the neo-realist style of filmmaking, with simple and naturalistic portrayal of events, handheld cameras and non-actors in leading roles. However, the main story is told symbolically through the specific surroundings, the games characters play, the clothes they wear—all of these, plus the music, accentuating the climactic moments of the film, guide us on this colorful but devastating journey to the Middle East.



The film feels extremely authentic, but this is not a documentary. Through the eyes of the child the film sneakily reveals all sorts of narrative surprises and political critiques despite its simple exterior. And, as custom dictates in this kind of film, the little girl is almost too cute for words, evoking gushes of sympathy toward her numerous trials.

The film’s title comes from Hana’s (Hana Makhmalbaf, the director) father. According to her, Mohsen meant that “even a statue can be ashamed of witnessing all this violence and harshness happening to these innocent people and, therefore, collapse.” Shots of the looming emptiness in the Bamian cliff faces that once housed these serene Buddhas are indeed among the film’s most devastating moments.
Hana’s done a brave and intelligent work and only with 19 years old. A brilliant poetic story against violence, intolerance and in defence of culture as the tool for tolerance peace and freedom, for a better world.