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It seems to be a trend. More and more films from Iran and other Eastern cultures are showing us how ancient traditions and cultures are being overrun and buried by the new. (See Jia Zhangke's Still Life, reviewed in the previous installment of this column.) The price of industrialism, capitalism, and progress is very high. Western viewers may find these visions of destruction unsettling. But in truth, we are paying the same price and making the same compromises; it's just happened more slowly and incrementally here, so we haven't seen such a dramatic shift. If we are honest and humble, there is much for us to learn from these stories.

In a statement, Majidi denies that he is condemning modernity. "Modernization," he says, "should be at the service of humanity, yet people find themselves conquered by it. The result is that with each passing day we are becoming more distant from our own human values. … All of our values—including friendship, morality and beauty—become less important day by day. In opposition to this process, my aim was to say that we must return to our human essence or else face a major disaster in the future."

Western viewers may scratch their heads at the focus on ostriches—famously thick-headed birds, born with wings but unable to fly. And yet, they are strangely magnificent, even beautiful at times. They seem a perfect image to capture Majidi's view of humanity and the natural world. We're broken, but we're also evidence of God's glory and capable of greatness. It seems that Karim's salvation may depend on whether or not he learns to really see, and value, what he had to begin with.

The blue door symbolizes wasted opportunity for Karim

I'll never forget the sight of Karim running across open ground, greedily taking back an item that his wife had given to a neighbor in an act of charity—a bright blue door, which he bears upon his back. It's a poignant image. What he's carrying could have been an opportunity for relationship; but instead, he treats it like a possession to be owned, and so we see him running, burdened, having slammed the door in God's face.

Majidi opens his film with the words "In the Name of God." And it's God we're meant to remember in this tale of hardship, job-hunting, and paychecks. Majidi's not concerned with distinguishing his film as "Christian" or "Muslim" in its sensibility. As far as he's concerned, we all have a time when we sense God working in our lives before we declare ourselves as adherents to a particular tradition—and that is the territory where he likes to work.

Nevertheless, it's hard to avoid hearing echoes of Scripture in his work. Karim learns that even if we find that perfect day-job and achieve great wealth, if God's grace is not our greatest treasure, those things we count as blessings may soon become burdens too painful to bear.

© 2009 Jeffrey Overstreet subject to licensing agreement with Christianity Today International. All rights reserved. Click for reprint information.

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