Nema-ye Nazdik

Saw Nema-ye Nazdik, an Iranian docufiction almost entirely about fiction. It revolves around the true story of a man who impersonated the Iranian director Makhmalbaf. He befriends a family of film enthusiasts who feed him and lend him money until they realize it's just an act. The bulk of the film takes place during the trial. Composed equal parts of candid moments and reenacted scenes, it's always difficult to understand the true reality of the situation. the actual people involved in the case play themselves but there are many time we know they are reenacting something for our benefit. Are we being fooled or is a deeper truth being revealed?

At the trial, the impersonator's defence consists of the argument that in exchange for the food and money, he provided the family with a moment when they felt like they were friends with someone famous. This, he argues, is a gift worth food and money. He argues that he never meant for things to get this out of hand, but the family fires back that he lying. He is only playing the part of contrite penitent, they cry, just as he played the part of the famous director. Again, the nature of deception and fiction butt heads. The impersonator sheepishly admits that he was always interested in being an actor.

The best scene by far is the ending scene, which has the impersonator meeting up with the actual famous director. This is filmed from far off, from inside a car whose windows are cracked, obscuring that which is already obscure. The sound is captured with old lapel-mics whose sound fades in and out (though sometimes this is a bit too convenient.) We silently follow the director and the impersonator as they ride together on a motorcycle. The imitation in the back, embracing the original. The lie and the truth are cheek to cheek for just a moment. We see them speaking, but do not hear what passes between them. A deeply evocative scene.

The film is very deliberately paced. It's often slow and I sometimes had to struggle to pay attention. Many scenes are recreated by the actual people, but those people are not actors and some scenes have a half-baked, amateurish feel to them. For all of that, though, it's a tremendously thoughtful film. Rarely does form and content so perfectly mesh. I suspect the film lies to us a few times, but then it has provided an interesting story in exchange for the lies. Have we been cheated? Is the film guilty of gross misrepresentation or has it simply told a lie through which it tells the truth?