Tribeca Review: President Mir Qanbar

Once an employee of Iran's Ministry of the Interior, Mir Qanbar is now a 74-year-old retiree who has dedicated himself to winning an elected position in his country's government, be it the presidency or merely a seat in Parliament. Despite a profound lack of success (he has been disqualified from several presidential elections for not having enough votes, and gets infinitesimal support in parliamentary elections), Mir Qanbar and his faithful friend Seifollah campaign tirelessly, traveling from village to village, handing out flyers and talking with farmers, shepherds, and assorted passers-by.

In President Mir Qanbar, director Mohammad Shirvani documents the tail end of one of his subject's endless campaigns for Parliament. Though his film is by no means reverential, it nevertheless lends Mir Qanbar a rugged sort of dignity. He comes across not as a Don Quixote, tilting at windmills, but instead as a quiet, determined man who has given considerable thought to the policies he would introduce, and works extremely hard to reach his unattainable goal. Because of how poor and sparsely populated Mir Qanbar's district is, he and Seifollah are forced to visit many villages every day, traveling between them along deserted dirt roads by cart and bicycle. Any doubts about the seriousness of the campaign are erased as Shirvani watches the two men -- Seifollah seemingly untroubled by his considerable physical handicaps -- ford streams, wander through fields, and climb steep hills, bicycle in hand in pursuit of voters.

In addition to filming the men campaigning, Shirvani questions Mir Qanbar about his goals as a politician, and quizzes him on major issues. Sitting before a still camera with his elderly, partially-blind wife motionless in the background, Mir Qanbar wears his best coat (donned, he says, because the interview is an official event, and he needs to look his best) and answers Shirvani's question with press-conference formality and poise. The scenes are both a bit comical -- a feeling enhanced by the director's occasion prefacing of the questions with "President Mir Qanbar! How do you feel about ... " -- and very winning. No matter how absurd his campaigns, it is impossible not to respect Mir Qanbar for the seriousness with which he approaches the task. Interestingly, there is never a sense that his constant presence in elections is a quest for attention, or an egotistical exercise; instead, Mir Qanbar is unfailingly self-effacing, from his firm belief that the choices of voters are by God's will, to his confusion when he is caught on camera serving tea to the film crew, and Shirvani solicitously asks about the footage, assuming his subject wouldn't want the moment of servitude included in the movie. Confused, Mir Qanbar responds, "Not at all. I am proud of it."

Shirvani's approach to his film is appropriately low key, and it has a pleasingly ramshackle feel that is appropriate to the improvised campaign it documents. In the space of just over an hour, he manages to present admirably complete, warts-and-all portraits of both Mir Qanbar and Seifollah and their strange relationship. It's impossible to pinpoint what keeps the two together -- Seifollah has been promised the leadership of the Health Ministry when Mir Qanbar is elected president, which probably helps, but there is an unspoken understanding between the two men that goes well beyond self-interest. Seifollah campaigns very hard on his own, limping across fields to track down farmers, and driving his cart alone to village after village in support of his friend. He also is protective of Mir Qanbar, periodically expressing irritation with the filmmakers, and suspicion about their goals.

In the film's truly inspired opening scene, the camera rests at the top of a hill, surveying a dirt road occupied only by Seifollah and his cart, Mir Qanbar on his bicycle, and the filmmakers in a red pickup truck, their white-tipped boom mic floating incongruously above the scene like an attentive balloon. In a shot so long that the tiny figures and their vehicles being to look like toys, we see, in turn, Seifollah run his cart into the truck when the filmmakers try to talk to him; Mir Qanbar suddenly tipping over on his bike, the entire filmmaking crew scurrying over to help him; Mir Qanbar, infected with Seifollah's distrust shouting at his rescuers to leave him alone; peace restored, and everyone heading off to do more campaigning. The single shot, which lasts more than five minutes, is wonderful because of the overview it gives of the situation: together, the entire film and campaign consist of six people, and neither, really is of much consequence. Despite that, however, both are pursued with undaunted determination, and both have a lasting impact on the people they encounter.