COMMENTARY: The Color of Paradise

c. 2000 Religion News Service (Dale Hanson Bourke is the author of five books and the mother of two children.) (UNDATED) American filmmakers, having perfected their skills on the themes of sex and violence, are the undisputed world champions of R-rated cinema. But when it comes to depicting spiritual matters, they often turn amateurish. Iranian […]

c. 2000 Religion News Service

(Dale Hanson Bourke is the author of five books and the mother of two children.)

(UNDATED) American filmmakers, having perfected their skills on the themes of sex and violence, are the undisputed world champions of R-rated cinema. But when it comes to depicting spiritual matters, they often turn amateurish.


Iranian directors, on the other hand, show neither the inclination nor the opportunity to pursue their prurient interests. Left to hone their technique on higher ground, they depict the spiritual multidimensionally.

Such is the case with “The Color of Paradise,” an Iranian movie currently playing in selected theaters.

Lacking both guns and nudity, the film instead explores human joy and suffering and God’s role in our lives. Beautifully photographed, the film takes place mostly in the breathtaking mountains of Iran.

The story begins in a school for the blind in Tehran where we meet Mohammad, a boy without sight who, nonetheless, sees more clearly than most of the other characters in the movie. Mohammad seems to have an unlimited capacity to consume life, relying primarily on hearing and touch to connect him to the world.

As school lets out for the summer, the Iranian families rush to the school to claim their much-loved children. But Mohammad is left alone, waiting for his father who finally shows up a day late and with a grim attitude. He asks the school to keep his son, claiming that since the death of his wife he is unable to care for this imperfect child. The answer is no.

It is the first of many insights into the self-pitying father, who seems unable to appreciate the love and beauty that surrounds him.

The father and son’s journey up the mountain to their village home shows Mohammad grasping every opportunity to enjoy the wind on his face, the touch of a feather, the sensation of flowing water, while his father remains passive and despondent.


In the mountaintop village we meet the rest of the family _ two loving sisters and a grandmother _ as well as the object of the father’s affection. Hoping to find a new wife, the father is acutely aware that Mohammad is not an asset in his quest.

The grandmother is a wise and loving figure whose hands are either busy farming or fingering her prayer beads. Like Mohammad, she is connected to God and the world around her. She views her own selfish son with concern as he plots to get rid of Mohammad so he can be free to marry the young woman.

Finding a blind carpenter who will apprentice Mohammad, the father believes his troubles are over. But, of course, they have just begun.

Throughout the film the camera offers ample evidence of the glory of nature, contrasting the panoramic scenes with the small world of Mohammad. And yet we come to understand this child lives in a rich dimension of sounds and textures even while his father is profoundly unaware.

The sparse script makes the subtitles less disruptive, and the English translation is smooth and touching.

At one point Mohammad wonders aloud why God has caused him to be blind and therefore made him unlovable to his father. But even in his agony we see his faith and capacity to love.


“The Color of Paradise” is an Islamic movie most Christians would find depicts God in a very understandable and consistent way with their own faith. Life is not easy for any of the characters in the movie, but those who believe rise above the daily challenges and find hope, faith and joy in the most simple circumstances.

The belief in a better world to come parallels most Christian theology, and the sense of being the hands of God on Earth is portrayed both as calling and fulfillment.

This is not a movie for those who love Rambo-type action. The pace is slow and exquisite, the imagery full and haunting. But for American audiences, so rarely exposed to spiritual themes, “The Color of Paradise” offers a rare opportunity to glimpse the sacred in a setting most often dedicated to less holy themes. Perhaps American filmmakers will begin to get the idea.

DEA END BOURKE

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