Notice: Function _load_textdomain_just_in_time was called incorrectly. Translation loading for the gk-gravityexport-lite domain was triggered too early. This is usually an indicator for some code in the plugin or theme running too early. Translations should be loaded at the init action or later. Please see Debugging in WordPress for more information. (This message was added in version 6.7.0.) in /data/40/0/131/109/783598/user/802494/htdocs/anissahelou/wp-includes/functions.php on line 6121

Notice: Function _load_textdomain_just_in_time was called incorrectly. Translation loading for the pixeletc domain was triggered too early. This is usually an indicator for some code in the plugin or theme running too early. Translations should be loaded at the init action or later. Please see Debugging in WordPress for more information. (This message was added in version 6.7.0.) in /data/40/0/131/109/783598/user/802494/htdocs/anissahelou/wp-includes/functions.php on line 6121
abbas kiarostami : anissa's blog

7
Apr

[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o13SebElico[/youtube]

Here we go again, another month and another belly dancer. This time I am taking you to Iran, before the Islamic revolution when Iranians were able to enjoy life without restrictions and when they made fun films and not films where nothing happens for two hours. Of course, I am exaggerating and not being entirely serious but I nearly died of boredom watching Kiarostami‘s A Taste of Cherry. And I like bleak films and remember spending 7 hours (in two sittings!) engrossed in a Roumanian film (I think) set in a rainy village with the saddest characters ever. Sadly, I can’t remember the name. Anyhow, this month’s dancer is not as good as my previous ones but I love the absurdity of the scene, and I love how she lets her breasts have a life of their own. I also love the arrival of the children to an entertainment that is not quite suitable, at least not when she is jiggling her attributes!

Ps. Just had a comment from a lovely Norwegian blogger telling me the title of my never ending Eastern European film, Sátántangó. It is Hungarian and not Roumanian and it may go on forever but it is brilliant; and the opening scene, with the papers blowing in the wind, is beautiful.