Ronny Sianturi
The Berlinale Film Festival, a renowned platform for cinematic exploration and a crucial barometer for emerging global talent, once again plays host to a selection of films that probe the complexities of human experience. Among the contenders for the prestigious Crystal Globe at this year’s Karlovy Vary International Film Festival is Hijamat, the latest offering from Iranian-Turkish writer-director Nader Saeivar. This earnest, though ultimately underwhelming, drama delves into the profound fissures that can erupt within a family when deeply held traditions clash with the emergence of a younger member’s queer identity. While the film’s artistic pedigree, particularly the involvement of acclaimed auteur Jafar Panahi, lends it significant gravitas, Hijamat struggles to coalesce its ambitious thematic threads into a consistently compelling narrative.
The film’s publicity materials and festival programming have prominently highlighted the collaboration between Saeivar and Jafar Panahi, a figure synonymous with the independent and often politically charged Iranian cinema. Panahi, an editor and one of the three producers on Hijamat, has a well-documented and fruitful working relationship with Saeivar. Their prior collaboration on Saeivar’s 2024 feature, The Witness, underscores this synergy. Saeivar also co-wrote Panahi’s recent award-winning film, It Was Just an Accident, and has contributed to other significant works by Panahi, including 3 Faces and No Bears. This established partnership, however, does not entirely elevate Hijamat, which, despite its moments of poignancy, is characterized by a drawn-out pace and occasional narrative clunkiness. Nonetheless, the film does feature a striking, albeit somewhat out-of-place, performance from the legendary Nastassja Kinski, who delivers a compelling, scenery-chewing turn as a mentally troubled neighbor.
Thematic Core: Tradition, Shame, and Identity
At its heart, Hijamat grapples with the potent themes of shame, secrecy, and the soul-crushing weight of societal and familial expectations. The film’s narrative is set against the backdrop of a Turkish family living in Berlin, a city that has long served as a beacon for immigrants and a melting pot of cultures. This setting provides fertile ground for exploring the intersection of established cultural norms and the evolving identities of second and third-generation immigrants. The film’s title, Hijamat, refers to the ancient practice of cupping therapy, a symbolic choice that hints at the attempts to purge perceived impurities or ailments, both physical and spiritual, within the family’s dynamic.
A Celebration Interrupted: The Unveiling of Kerem’s Truth
The inciting incident of Hijamat occurs during a festive gathering, ostensibly celebrating the circumcision of a young boy. The joyous atmosphere, marked by traditional gendered separations for merriment, is abruptly shattered by news that Kerem, a younger member of the extended family, is being physically assaulted. This violent eruption stems from the circulation of photographs depicting Kerem in an intimate relationship with a German man. The revelation of Kerem’s homosexuality acts as a catalyst, exposing the deep-seated conservatism and patriarchal control exerted by Ibrahim, Kerem and his older brother Murad’s father.
Murad, alongside his Kosovan wife Leyla, represents a more progressive outlook within the family, more attuned to Western sensibilities and thus more accepting of Kerem’s sexual orientation. Their more open approach stands in stark contrast to Ibrahim’s rigid adherence to tradition and his leveraging of financial power, derived from successful restaurant ventures in both Berlin and their homeland. Ibrahim, the stern patriarch, wields his authority to enforce a narrative of shame and dishonor upon Kerem, forcing him into a confrontation with the local Sheikh.
The Role of Religious and Business Interests
The film meticulously details how religious authority is intertwined with business interests, creating a complex web of influence and coercion. The Sheikh, far from acting solely on spiritual conviction, is revealed to be in league with a businessman back home who is keen on Ibrahim selling one of his restaurants. The Sheikh’s spiritual pronouncements and pressure on Kerem are thus a calculated maneuver to leverage the family’s internal crisis for external financial gain. This subplot introduces a layer of Machiavellian maneuvering that, while adding dramatic tension, also contributes to the film’s sometimes disjointed feel.
Subplots and Narrative Fragmentation
As Hijamat progresses, Saeivar attempts to weave in additional plotlines, some of which feel more organically integrated than others. A significant portion of the film is dedicated to Margot, a friend of Murad’s late mother, who resides across the street from Ibrahim. Margot is portrayed as a woman experiencing a profound breakdown, haunted by her past escape from East to West Berlin. Her subplot serves as a thematic reminder of Berlin’s historical role as a refuge for those seeking freedom and the enduring trauma of violent displacement across generations. However, this narrative thread, while conceptually relevant, is never fully integrated into the main dramatic arc, leading to a sense of thematic diffusion.
Another awkwardly handled revelation is the late-stage suggestion that Murad himself harbors latent homosexual feelings. This aspect of his character is introduced with little buildup and lacks convincing development, feeling more like a plot device to facilitate a cameo appearance rather than an organic exploration of his internal life. This reveal does, however, bring Moritz Bleibtreu, a prominent German film star, into the narrative. Bleibtreu portrays a New Age healer, complete with an outlandish wig and headband, who proposes cupping therapy – the titular hijamat – as a means of resolving Murad’s supposed torment. This scene, while offering a moment of eccentric levity and a visual connection to the film’s title, further underscores the film’s tendency to introduce elements that don’t always cohere seamlessly.
Saeivar’s Dissident Stature and Narrative Clarity
Nader Saeivar, much like Jafar Panahi, has cultivated a reputation as a dissident voice within the Iranian film industry. He continues to teach at a university in Tehran and is known for producing films that offer open critiques of the current regime. This background raises questions about the narrative clarity of Hijamat. One might speculate whether a form of self-censorship, perhaps born from navigating the delicate political landscape of filmmaking from within Iran, has inadvertently impacted the film’s storytelling. This is a particularly tempting hypothesis given that Hijamat does contain passages that exhibit a remarkable fluidity and artistic flair. The film’s opening sequence, a bravura “oner” that tracks a young boy’s arrival as the guest of honor at a party, demonstrates Saeivar’s technical skill and potential for compelling cinematic language. It is precisely these moments of artistic brilliance that make the subsequent narrative fragmentation all the more noticeable and disappointing.
Critical Reception and Festival Circuit
Hijamat‘s inclusion in the Karlovy Vary International Film Festival’s competition slate signals its recognition by festival programmers as a film of potential artistic merit, aiming to engage with complex social and personal issues. The festival, established in 1946, has historically been a platform for showcasing European cinema and fostering dialogue around contemporary filmmaking. Its selection of Hijamat places it alongside a curated selection of international films, each vying for critical acclaim and audience attention.
However, early critical responses, such as the one under review, suggest that while the film tackles significant themes, its execution falls short of its ambitious aims. The "earnest but underwhelming" assessment points to a potential disconnect between the film’s thematic weight and its narrative execution. The "drawn out, sometimes clunky issues-driven drama lacks flow" observation highlights a common pitfall in films that prioritize thematic exploration over narrative cohesion.
Broader Implications and Context
The themes explored in Hijamat resonate with broader societal discussions about LGBTQ+ rights, immigration, and the challenges of cultural assimilation. The film’s portrayal of a family grappling with a child’s homosexuality within a conservative diaspora community is a recurring narrative in contemporary cinema, reflecting the ongoing tension between traditional values and evolving social norms. The setting in Berlin, a city with a significant Turkish population, adds another layer of complexity, as it allows for an examination of how cultural identities are negotiated and maintained in a multicultural urban environment.
The film’s examination of the interplay between religious and secular authorities, and the potential for both to be manipulated for personal or political gain, is a theme with global relevance. The manipulation of religious tenets to enforce social control or to serve economic agendas is a recurring concern in many societies. Hijamat‘s depiction of the Sheikh’s complicity with a businessman highlights this issue, suggesting that even spiritual institutions can become entangled in worldly power struggles.
The inclusion of Nastassja Kinski, a celebrated actress with a career spanning decades and international acclaim, in a supporting role is noteworthy. Her performance, described as "compelling bit of scenery-chewing," suggests an attempt to inject a degree of dramatic intensity and perhaps an artistic gravitas to the film, even if the character’s integration into the main narrative is questionable. Similarly, the cameo by Moritz Bleibtreu, another established German actor, signals an effort to leverage familiar faces within the German film industry, potentially to attract wider audience interest or to lend a certain authenticity to the film’s setting and milieu.
Conclusion: A Film of Unfulfilled Potential
Hijamat presents itself as a film with a strong moral compass and a desire to address pertinent social issues. It attempts to navigate the treacherous waters of family conflict, cultural identity, and sexual liberation. However, the film’s ambition appears to outstrip its execution. The narrative struggles with pacing, a tendency towards clunkiness, and a diffusion of focus due to the inclusion of subplots that, while thematically relevant, are not fully integrated. The directorial hand of Nader Saeivar, while capable of moments of visual flair, ultimately fails to provide the consistent narrative drive and emotional resonance necessary to elevate Hijamat beyond a well-intentioned but flawed exploration of its central themes. The film’s potential to offer profound insights into the lives of immigrant families and the complexities of emerging queer identities is hampered by its structural weaknesses, leaving the audience with a sense of unfulfilled promise. The collaboration with Jafar Panahi, while lending the film a certain prestige, does not entirely compensate for its storytelling shortcomings. Hijamat remains a film that, despite its significant thematic concerns and the pedigree of its collaborators, ultimately underwhelms.
