"Children of Heaven" (1997)

First off, you gotta love the name of the director who helmed this little slice-of-life drama: Majid Majidi. Apparently, this feather weight gem of modern Iranian cinema pulled some serious clout overseas, getting the attention of the elitist Academy and their steadying inclination to reward smaller, more socially conscious, indie-style films (or what I call, "coffee table flicks"), over your more classic Hollywood fare. "Children of Heaven" became the first Iranian film to receive an Oscar nomination for best foreign language film. Based on what I saw, there must not have been much else going on in '98 in the foreign film world.

With "Children" in its title, its no surprise that a brother and sister in the single digit age are our two main characters. We start out with poor (literally) little nine year old Ali, in a dramatically affected performance by Mir Farrokh Hashemian, running an errand in the market to repair the shoes of his adorable little sister Zahra (Bahare Seddigi). Unfortunately, his endeavor goes awry when he sets off to pick up some fruit for his family. The bag of shoes accidentally gets swiped by a blind man as Ali sifts through some cartons. This dilemma is the basis for the entire story, and the plot from here on in simply centers around getting another pair. So you lose a pair of shoes, no big deal, right? Well, when it comes to Ali's family and their meager existence, living in a single room apartment in poverty-stricken Tehran, Iran (where Majidi grew up) with barely any creature comforts, that statement couldn't be more wrong. They are in debt, with the mother sick and the father overworked and massively underpaid. And what's equally sad is the two sibling's consciousness of this fact. This is why Ali's confession to his sister is like the end of the universe. He knows his family can't afford new shoes, and that his sister cannot attend school without them. Little Zahra is aware of this and is pretty devastated herself. Ali can't possibly tell mom and dad, knowing that they are in such dire straits, so, now facing this huge dilemma, the two siblings surreptitiously scribble notes back and forth to each other in the company of their parents, trying to devise a plan. Thankfully, they come to a solution. They can swap shoes, because they conveniently happen to have school at different times; Zahra has morning school, Ali afternoon. This seemed peculiar and all too accommodating a plot device to me at first, but then I thought about it; it is an entirely different and extremely poor country (at least in this part of it), with the schools sexually segregated, so it could and would be plausible that there would be different school times. So with their plan set, we watch the cherubic Zahra scramble out of school, darting through town and alleyways to rendezvous with her anxious brother to do the big switch. In the simple and large world in the eyes, heart, and soul of a child, this is a dramatic and tense affair. Ali throws the shoes on, home does lil' sis go and off to school does Ali make his hasty beeline. The only problem is, timing. There is no way Zahra can get to him early enough once she gets out, and so Ali winds up being late for class after every subsequent shoe swap. And the poor kid keeps running into the principal as he's sneaking through the empty halls to get to his class, and just look at the kid's face each time he's caught and being scolded; those emotional close ups are just too much. The kid sure does cry a lot, but he sure as hell tugs at your heart strings and make you feel for his plight. It's interesting how he diminutively holds up a finger when addressing elders or figures of authority. There seems to be a level of respect instilled in these children that seems to be becoming more and more lost in today's american youth.

Ali and Zahra's little system obviously can't continue for much longer. This is when Ali happens upon a foot race contest in which the prize for coming in third is a brand new pair of sneakers. Determined to enter the competition, Ali pleads with the gym coach when he's told he missed the deadline for the tryouts. It's heartbreaking to see desperate Ali beg from the pit of his tortured soul over simply obtaining a pair of shoes for his beloved sister. Tears in his eyes (for the upteenth time), he sways the teacher, gets his tryout and and passes with flying colors. So there it is, he's entered for the big race, and he breaks the news to his grateful yet skeptical sister. How can he be sure to come in at specifically third place? He promises her he will, and so we watch an epic, surprisingly nail-biting (if not a little drawn out) race of what looks like hundreds of boys. Ali holds his own up front with the fastest boys, one of whom cheats and pushes him to the ground. Undeterred, Ali is back up on his feet and doggedly pushes forth. We are subject to an overlong slow motion climax in which Ali inadvertently breaks the finish line in first place, and we're thinking, "oh no." First place, what a drag. Ali hangs his head in shame as the photographer snaps off some victory shots. The poor kid just wants a damn pair of sneakers. He returns home, and Zahra sees failure and shame written all over her brother's puppy dog countenance, and so sad is she as well. This is set up for one mighty downer of an ending. However, we do get some evidence of a happy one; Majidi inserts a short scene where Ali's father is out in town doing some shopping, and what we get a glimpse of in his box of purchases is two pairs of brand new shoes! So as the downtrodden Ali removes his dilapidated sneakers and soaks his blistered bare feet in shame, we know, that even when the ending credits abruptly show up, everything is going to be okay.

Under the strains of poverty, the extremes these two loving siblings go to in order to not create any more hardships for their struggling parents is testament to the grand content of their character. These second nature ideals of courtesy, love, and respect were once so commonplace in the youth of America, in simpler times when religion was not scoffed at and morals and values were high and held steadfast. It's sad that these things are consistently degrading in modern american youth. More than anything though, Majidi's film is great display of the appreciation of the little things, something else we all seem to be losing. These kids have next to nothing, but they make due with what they have, even when it's taken away from them. The difference between say, this film, which centers around children, and an American film, is that in the American film, it would be content to superficially exploit the precious charms of its young star(s), having him or her spew charming lines of dialogue. Here, we are getting a real performance from a child, where we see a soul in turmoil. Turmoil over something so simple, over things we all take for granted. How many American kids would think twice about asking daddy for another pair of shoes if they absolutely needed it, even if they know he couldn't afford it? Not many. When Majidi goes for those close ups, it's not for the sake of a gratuitous "cute shot", but to see a child who is genuinely suffering. Ali and Zahra are good kids, something we need much more of these days. Watching this film makes you realize just how badly the youth of America needs an enema.

"Children of Heaven", is a charming little film that says a lot about the positives of humanity amidst the confinement of poverty, the power of love and family and yada yada yada. These simple, "slice of life" films generally are not my cup of tea, and if it weren't for the two main child actors and those intermittent moments of pure, unadulterated cuteness, I'd have not sat through the film. At the same time, I'm surprised and not surprised that the Academy nominated the picture for best foreign film. Surprised because of how small and slight and delicate it is (and I mean that in a negative way), and not surprised because the Academy as of late has been getting hard ons for these types of films. On the other end of the spectrum, however, I've actually been quite jaded by the over slick, over edited, glossy Hollywood blockbusters of, say, the past six or seven years. And the pretentious indie flicks that can get easy Oscar buzz by simply throwing in left-wing fodder such as homosexuality and social/political issues, usually don't satisfy me either. It's just rare today when the happy medium comes along. I have nothing against "Children of Heaven", it's just that I feel it's a little too lightweight to have received a foreign best picture nomination and amount of general acclaim it had acquired at the time.