"Wolf and Sheep"; Interview with Afghanistan's First Female Filmmaker

"Wolf and Sheep" has created a lot of buzz as the work of Afghanistan's first female filmmaker, winning an award at this year's Cannes Film Festival in the Directors' Fortnight section. Shahrbanoo Sadat is young and energetic. Born in Tehran to Afghan parents, she returned to Afghanistan at the age of eleven. Her debut feature presents a different narrative of a remote village with a quasi-documentary atmosphere, infused with folklore and mythology, creating a mysterious tone. The film is currently being screened at the 60th London Film Festival, providing an opportunity for a fresh conversation with this young filmmaker. Let's start with the title of the film; why "Wolf and Sheep"? "Wolf and Sheep" is a well-known game among Afghan children, especially in rural areas. Beyond this, Afghan society represents a community where people do not think, a society where everyone flows in one direction without knowing the destination. In Afghan society, there is always talk of an enemy, but the identity of this enemy is so obscure that no one knows who it is. Foreigners, Soviets, Americans, Taliban, ISIS, and even Afghans of different ethnicities and religions have all been referred to as enemies at different times. There is always a need for an enemy's presence to explain all of Afghanistan's problems and the country's chaotic situation, leading to a community that remains backward under the leadership of foolish and power-hungry leaders. "Wolf and Sheep" attempts to depict the story of a small, remote community that can easily represent Afghan society, a society whose only fear is the wolf. The film seems to have a lot of personal references. How personal is it? For me, "Wolf and Sheep" is a very personal film for several reasons. Firstly, I lived for seven years between the ages of 11 and 18 in a small, remote village in central Afghanistan, and I can say that most of the film's scenes are derived from my observations from those years (2001-2008). Secondly, I later met a man who became one of my best friends; he also had experience living in the same area where I had lived, but in the 1950s. When we talked about that area, it seemed like we both lived there at the same time; nothing had changed, as if time had not passed there. We both experienced loneliness and a sense of not belonging among our peers. In 2001, when we returned from Iran to Afghanistan, I not only couldn't speak Hazara but also didn't understand it. The story of Afghanistan through the lens of war is, for me, a completely superficial and touristy view. War has been accepted as part of our daily lives as Afghans; if we remove war, drugs, and violence from Afghanistan, what remains? That's what I'm interested in. It took me a long time to adapt to the culture of that small community. I was born in Tehran and lived as an Afghan immigrant in Iran. We went through tough years of migration; I remember the last year we were in Iran, my school did not accept me, and my father's factory shut down. We were forced to return to Afghanistan, which at that time everyone said the war was over. My father decided to return to their village in central Afghanistan. Life in a city like Tehran after a week-long journey to a small village in the middle of nowhere in Afghanistan was not easy for me as an eleven-year-old. My friend, whose powerful character is inspired by him, was also born in that village and traveled to the city with his half-sister after his father's death and his mother's remarriage. My friend was with me when he returned to the village after thirty-four years and met his mother. Unlike me, who was taken from the city to the village, my friend was taken from the village to the city. He lived there until he was eight. Both of us were apart from our peers and had an observant perspective on our surroundings. In "Wolf and Sheep," I created a narrative where my friend and I both lived in that village at the same time, and a friendship forms between us for a short period. Films about Afghanistan often focus on war and its ramifications, but you have attempted to showcase another face of Afghanistan.... The story of Afghanistan through the lens of war is, for me, a completely superficial and touristy view. War has been accepted as part of our daily lives as Afghans; if we remove war, drugs, and violence from Afghanistan, what remains? That's what I'm interested in. The stories of the people, their daily lives, beliefs, and lifestyles. Simple stories that we pass by indifferently. The actions and reactions that are the foundation of our major problems. I wanted to talk about the Afghanistan that I have experienced and continue to experience. The Afghanistan I live in is vastly different from the version the world knows. I want to step beyond the stereotypes and take my viewer's hand and share my experience with complete honesty. The world needs to know Afghanistan, and Afghans themselves need to see a more realistic image of themselves. The documentary-like structure of the film plays an important role in this. How much did you want to get close to the real lives of these people? All my film education culminates in the three months I studied at the French Atelier Varan workshop in Kabul in 2009. There, I became acquainted with cinema verité; an observational cinema. A cinema that tries to speak about reality. A cinema that does not judge its work and respects what it depicts. I fell in love with this cinema. I believe it is a completely human cinema. I prefer narrative cinema because it gives me more power to create. All the things I loved in documentary cinema, I incorporated into my narrative cinema. From real people to the clothes the actors wore and the items I used in the film, everything was real and gave the film its soul. There is a strong mythical presence in the film, including the dream sequence of the naked woman. How much attention did you pay to mythology? I paid more attention to the beliefs of the people than to mythology. To the self-made stories that people believe in. I think the sequences of the wolf in Kashmir and the green fairy are the documentary scenes of the film because they talk about people's beliefs. I am always influenced by these stories. Stories that Afghans have grown up with. In these stories, people create narratives from their inner desires, wishes, cravings, fears, and beliefs. I believe these stories provide a lot of information about Afghan society and their mindset to the viewer. All the actors in the film are non-professionals. How did you direct them, and how was working with non-actors? Working with non-actors was one of the easiest tasks for me. I faced many problems during filming, from working with a flock of sheep to nighttime wolf attacks on the flock, visa issues for Afghan actors in a situation where Tajikistan had blacklisted Afghans and was not issuing visas because the Taliban had taken over many parts of northern Afghanistan and Kunduz, which borders Tajikistan. The illness of almost the entire crew due to the water in that area and countless other problems left me little time to think. I had worked with small children and non-actors in my short films and had experience. Working with non-actors is one of the most enjoyable parts of filmmaking for me. During filming, I break the boundary between myself and the actors. I rarely look at the monitor and always try to be among my actors, making them feel that I am in the same situation as them and understand their circumstances. I understand that they are tired, hungry, standing in the sun, or getting wet in the rain. I am friends with them and enjoy their company. When my connection with them is good, I know I can get performances from them because they also know what I want from them. Why did you shoot the film in Tajikistan? I wanted to make a film about life. I did not want to endanger lives for the sake of filming. My wish was to shoot the film in the village where I grew up, but unfortunately, I could not due to security reasons. Filming was delayed, and at that time, it was election time, and the situation in Kabul was very bad. Many friends I had relied on as my working team for a long time left Afghanistan and sought refuge in European countries. The airport was attacked, and we always had insurance problems. My producer Katia and I could not risk our crew's lives, and ultimately, it was decided to film in another country. We considered many countries, including Iran, but I decided to work in Tajikistan because its nature resembles central Afghanistan more. There, we built the village, and for the first time, I worked as a set designer with Tajik workers to construct the village. Given the film's screening at Cannes and the fact that you are Afghanistan's first female filmmaker, it seemed the film would represent Afghanistan at the Oscars, but another film from Afghanistan was sent to the Oscars... In Afghanistan, cinema, like many other things, is a mafia. Everything revolves around relationships. The most incompetent people have the most qualifications. The Afghan filmmakers' union censored scenes from my film without my permission and presented the edited version to the Afghan Oscar committee. Two of the seven members of the committee, whose names were approved by the Academy Awards, were not even present at the meeting and none of the four films were seen, but their votes were counted for the film that the union president had chosen from the beginning. Of course, in Afghanistan, which ranks first in the world for administrative corruption, such an occurrence is not at all unusual. If they had chosen my film, which I am not part of their circle, I would have been truly surprised. Have you screened the film in Afghanistan? Are you considering screening it in Iran as well? Not yet. The French Institute in Afghanistan had decided to screen this film, but it was postponed due to security issues. I hope we can hold a screening soon. In response to the second part of your question, wherever I can screen my complete and uncensored version, I will do so.