Skip to main contentDuring its six-year reign, the Taliban inflicted more suffering on the Afghan people than can ever be told. Siddiq Barmak's groundbreaking film Osama attempts the near-impossible task of capturing these deep-rooted horrors.
Osama has the distinction of being the first feature shot in Afghanistan since the fall of the Taliban, and it's one of the few chances Afghans have had to address the world about life under the repressive regime. After 9/11, "experts" on Afghanistan's recent history popped up faster than Mullah Omar's militia defeated the mujahedeen in Kabul. What has been missing in the mix is the voice of the Afghan people themselves. But with Osama, Barmak comes as close as imaginable to the daunting task of revealing these stories in a mere 83 minutes.
Filmgoers might be surprised to learn Osama has nothing to do with a particular Saudi national nestled in the White Mountains of Afghanistan. Instead, it is the story of a girl (played by Marina Golbahari) who lives with her widowed mother and grandmother. In Taliban-era Afghanistan, the women's only hope for survival is that the young girl pose as a boy to get work. Out of desperation, the grandmother clips the girl's locks down to a buzz, as the adolescent assumes the identity of a boy, now referred to as "Osama."
Characters in the film are left unnamed (beyond occasional nicknames) to represent the general suffering in Afghanistan, a country that had already undergone 18 years of Soviet invasion and mujahedeen wars when the Taliban seized power. Osama's lost identity symbolically entwines with the lost identity of the war-battered nation. The young girl is Afghanistan embodied; her forced disguise and powerlessness represent the country's transformation into something no longer recognizable or in control of its own fate.
Soon after her alteration, Taliban round-ups force Osama and other boys in economic distress into madrasas, schools designed to train students for war and religious fervor. What follows is a shocking piece of film, though no violence occurs on screen. But the movie's harshness is softened by Barmak's evident compassion.
The Taliban's brutality is now legendary across the world, but it's often confused for Afghan culture and traditional Islamic practice. Barmak very tellingly contrasts the mercilessness of the Taliban's edicts against the warmth and generosity of the Afghan people and the giving nature of Islam. He focuses on the resilience of people who band together despite an oppressive regime, whether he gives us the shopkeeper who hires Osama when he cannot make ends meet himself, the street-hustling boy who covers for Osama's apparent femininity, or the grandmother reminding us that men and women are equal despite the political climate.
Barmak artfully employs symbolism to demonstrate thoughts otherwise inexpressible. We see Osama's cut braid planted in a flowerpot of soil, along with her suppressed femininity. Images of the protagonist jumping rope in prison illustrate caged freedom and lost innocence.
The Afghanistan shown is not far past, though the international community has promptly moved on. While Afghan women are working once again and girls have returned to school, conditions on the whole have not changed drastically. Rates of poverty and disease are still among the world's highest, security remains thin, and donor money is quickly drying up. Without viable long-term solutions, Afghanistan will once again fall victim to oppressive rule, whether in the form of religious extremism or the interests of Unocal. (Bush's rhetoric on this film as justification for his wars comes to mind here....)
Deeply thoughtful projects such as Osama offer hope. The movie won Best Foreign Film at the Golden Globes this year, along with a Special Mention at Cannes. The accolades helped highlight Afghanistan's critical status once again.
Osama is a movie you don't easily forget. Its intensity lingers days later, inviting interpretation, yearning to be understood. Perhaps it stays with the viewer because tragedies like these can never be understood. In the opening credits, Barmak displays a quote from Nelson Mandela against a black screen: "I can forgive, but I cannot forget."
This intensely moving film reminds us why Afghanistan should never be forgotten again.
Rated PG-13Opens Friday, March 12.
Director Siddiq Barmak found the actors he used in Osama in orphanages, in refugee camps and on the streets of Kabul. None had previous acting experience.
Marina Golbahari's life has changed little since starring in this Golden Globe winner. She still lives in a one-room mud house with her family of 11.
Nadia Ali Maiwandi is an Afghan freelance journalist and technical writer. Her email address is afghanactivism@yahoo.com
WWeek 2015