Hossein Sabzian II

(1) & (2) Close-Up Long Shot (Mamhoud Chokrollahi & Moslem Mansouri, 1996)

How old are you?

I’m 42. I was born in 1954.

Tell us a little about your childhood. Who was Sabzian before Close-Up?

The foundation for our personality is usually laid during childhood. According to Thomas Harris, our character is shaped during the first five years of our lives and reveals itself later. The connection between my childhood and the movies is that one day my father took me by the hand... and we went to the Lalehzar Theatre to see The Bride of the Sea, starring Vigen. There my father put my hand in cinema’s hand. My father let go of my hand, but cinema never did. I held its hand tight, and said hello to cinema for the first time.

I remember... that as a schoolboy, I skipped school for three months. Every day... I’d take my books and go to the movies. Sometimes they wouldn’t let me in. Before going home in the evening, I’d write essays and grade them with A’s. I’d mark them up like the teacher would have done, to avoid suspicion. This went on for months. We were living in Isfahan at the time. I skipped school for three months, until they caught on. My mother took me to school, and I was whipped because of my moviegoing. That’s what they used to do at the time. Back home I promised not to do it again, and they said I should think of my future.

All I can do is curse the movies. They robbed me of my childhood.

But I’ve come to think that today’s cinema, which I consider an advanced cinema, is simply colour and form. That’s enough.

Exactly half my life was spent in the dark. My life itself was in the dark. I’ve never seen my life in focus. It’s all been a blurred image.

Financially speaking, I spent money to buy tickets. In terms of years, I spent my time. And psychologically speaking, I sold my soul to cinema. So that’s how I spent the best hours of my childhood... in the dark.

Hossein Sabzian in Close-Up Long Shot (Mamhoud Chokrollahi & Moslem Mansouri, 1996).

 

Images (1) and (2) from Close-Up Long Shot (Mamhoud Chokrollahi & Moslem Mansouri, 1996)

COMPILATION
14.02.2015
NL FR EN
In Passage, Sabzian invites film critics, authors, filmmakers and spectators to send a text or fragment on cinema that left a lasting impression.
Pour Passage, Sabzian demande à des critiques de cinéma, auteurs, cinéastes et spectateurs un texte ou un fragment qui les a marqués.
In Passage vraagt Sabzian filmcritici, auteurs, filmmakers en toeschouwers naar een tekst of een fragment dat ooit een blijvende indruk op hen achterliet.
The Prisma section is a series of short reflections on cinema. A Prisma always has the same length – exactly 2000 characters – and is accompanied by one image. It is a short-distance exercise, a miniature text in which one detail or element is refracted into the spectrum of a larger idea or observation.
La rubrique Prisma est une série de courtes réflexions sur le cinéma. Tous les Prisma ont la même longueur – exactement 2000 caractères – et sont accompagnés d'une seule image. Exercices à courte distance, les Prisma consistent en un texte miniature dans lequel un détail ou élément se détache du spectre d'une penséée ou observation plus large.
De Prisma-rubriek is een reeks korte reflecties over cinema. Een Prisma heeft altijd dezelfde lengte – precies 2000 tekens – en wordt begeleid door één beeld. Een Prisma is een oefening op de korte afstand, een miniatuurtekst waarin één detail of element in het spectrum van een grotere gedachte of observatie breekt.
Jacques Tati once said, “I want the film to start the moment you leave the cinema.” A film fixes itself in your movements and your way of looking at things. After a Chaplin film, you catch yourself doing clumsy jumps, after a Rohmer it’s always summer, and the ghost of Akerman undeniably haunts the kitchen. In this feature, a Sabzian editor takes a film outside and discovers cross-connections between cinema and life.
Jacques Tati once said, “I want the film to start the moment you leave the cinema.” A film fixes itself in your movements and your way of looking at things. After a Chaplin film, you catch yourself doing clumsy jumps, after a Rohmer it’s always summer, and the ghost of Akerman undeniably haunts the kitchen. In this feature, a Sabzian editor takes a film outside and discovers cross-connections between cinema and life.
Jacques Tati zei ooit: “Ik wil dat de film begint op het moment dat je de cinemazaal verlaat.” Een film zet zich vast in je bewegingen en je manier van kijken. Na een film van Chaplin betrap je jezelf op klungelige sprongen, na een Rohmer is het altijd zomer en de geest van Chantal Akerman waart onomstotelijk rond in de keuken. In deze rubriek neemt een Sabzian-redactielid een film mee naar buiten en ontwaart kruisverbindingen tussen cinema en leven.