Bashu, the little stranger (1990)

Bashu, the Little Stranger (Bahram Beizai) turned out to be a pleasant surprise. The story follows a young boy from the south of Iran. He is orphaned in the Iran-Iraq war and flees to the north. He ends up in a small village. Perching in a wide field, he first encounters Nai and her two kids. They are first suspicous (among other things, they have no common language), and he is afraid. Gradually, however, he becomes a part of their family. The villige treats the boy with hostility - the film depicts a cruel form of racism. I liked several things about this film. Stylistically, it was a wonderful film comprising long, languid takes of nature and ordinary chores (the scene on the bazaar was extremely well crafted, very simple but very striking). The film's treatment of the relation between the boy and Nai appealed to me in particular. The boy becomes a part of her life, and she cannot help taking care of him, of taking responsibility, of seeing him as somebody to help and shelter. Trust is often seen as a process where people prove themselves dependable (trust as reliance). In this film, it is perhaps tempting to say that trust is earned, but that would be misleading. Nai grows to trust the boy, and the boy grows to trust Nai, and this is an interdependent form of trust which is not at all about proving oneself worthy. Here, we rather see how the villagers or Nai's absent husband presents a temptation: the boy is a burden, is there any reason that he should be there at all? Does Nai really have any obligation to look after him? We see how this temptation is dangerous, but also how it loses its power and how that perspective slips away.