MAXX
A couple of days ago I saw the Persian movie MAXX. When I read about the story, I thought: Hhm, does not sound bad, but it’s a musical. And to be honest, I am not a big fan of those.
The first 15 minutes of the movie were so là là, but after that: I nearly fell of from my seat from laughing so much! I read in other reviews, and I have to agree with this, that the movie is more funny and understandable when you are somewhat familiar with the Iranian culture and when you speak Persian, since many details would get lost in translation.
The story is easy and straightforward: A musician is invited to Iran after 20 years. However, there is a misunderstanding in the name, and hence, instead of a classical musician, an Iranian pop-artist ends up in Tehran. The number of misunderstandings and awkward situations adds up through the movie while musical interjections enhance the awkwardness. However, the funniest things for me were the comments and the way the pop artist behaved in Iran. Persian, like any other language developed throughout the time. The same way no one speaks the Shakespearian English, no one speaks the same Farsi from Hafez anymore. Max (The main character) comes back to Iran with the Farsi he had 20 years ago plus Americanized vocabulary and at times he ends up translating certain expressions straight from English into Farsi or hears Iranian expressions, and uses them at the wrong places.
It reminded me of myself when I went to Iran the very first time at the age of 20. My mother had to ask a family member to watch over me, so that I would not bring myself into embarrassing situations. I remember the time I was invited at my mom’s cousins house, where a lot of Iranian poets, film makers, and other intellectuals were invited. My poor mother just left the room for 5 minutes, and heard the loud laughing from the room were I was. She knew… I was asked how I liked Germany and the life as an Iranian-German. I answered that my parents had- unfortunately- send me to a catholic girls school, which I was not too fond of. I said that as a child I liked much more playing with boys, and that now… I liked playing with men. (What I really meant was: dealing with men.!!!)
From then on, my mother asked me just to keep quiet and answer questions with Yes, No, or O.K. only. Well, I was told by an older relative: “Ghorbunet beram, inshallah, Nina djoon!”, which literally translates to: “May I sacrifice myself for you, my dearest Nina?”. Instead of saying very modestly, that I would rather sacrifice myself for her (Nah, ghorbeneh shoma!!!), I answered: O.K. (Baasheh!), which turned everyone around us laughing, and my mother giving me mad looks.
I have not been to Iran in a long time now. Somehow, my mother always finds excuses… I guess now I know why.
The first 15 minutes of the movie were so là là, but after that: I nearly fell of from my seat from laughing so much! I read in other reviews, and I have to agree with this, that the movie is more funny and understandable when you are somewhat familiar with the Iranian culture and when you speak Persian, since many details would get lost in translation.
The story is easy and straightforward: A musician is invited to Iran after 20 years. However, there is a misunderstanding in the name, and hence, instead of a classical musician, an Iranian pop-artist ends up in Tehran. The number of misunderstandings and awkward situations adds up through the movie while musical interjections enhance the awkwardness. However, the funniest things for me were the comments and the way the pop artist behaved in Iran. Persian, like any other language developed throughout the time. The same way no one speaks the Shakespearian English, no one speaks the same Farsi from Hafez anymore. Max (The main character) comes back to Iran with the Farsi he had 20 years ago plus Americanized vocabulary and at times he ends up translating certain expressions straight from English into Farsi or hears Iranian expressions, and uses them at the wrong places.
It reminded me of myself when I went to Iran the very first time at the age of 20. My mother had to ask a family member to watch over me, so that I would not bring myself into embarrassing situations. I remember the time I was invited at my mom’s cousins house, where a lot of Iranian poets, film makers, and other intellectuals were invited. My poor mother just left the room for 5 minutes, and heard the loud laughing from the room were I was. She knew… I was asked how I liked Germany and the life as an Iranian-German. I answered that my parents had- unfortunately- send me to a catholic girls school, which I was not too fond of. I said that as a child I liked much more playing with boys, and that now… I liked playing with men. (What I really meant was: dealing with men.!!!)
From then on, my mother asked me just to keep quiet and answer questions with Yes, No, or O.K. only. Well, I was told by an older relative: “Ghorbunet beram, inshallah, Nina djoon!”, which literally translates to: “May I sacrifice myself for you, my dearest Nina?”. Instead of saying very modestly, that I would rather sacrifice myself for her (Nah, ghorbeneh shoma!!!), I answered: O.K. (Baasheh!), which turned everyone around us laughing, and my mother giving me mad looks.
I have not been to Iran in a long time now. Somehow, my mother always finds excuses… I guess now I know why.
Labels: culture clash, Iranian movies, MAXX
posted by Women's Rights here and there @ 10:16 AM
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