"Prostitution: Behind the Veil"

Prostitution: Behind the Veil, 2004

Dir.: Nahid Persson

Prod.: Jakob Hogel, Nahid Persson

OK I know it's been a long time - almost a year - since I last posted. I promised I would come back and to be more devoted, then I made one post and poof! There I go again. Frankly, I am ashamed I couldn't make the commitment. But, to be fair, at the same time I was aiming to come back, I was planning my wedding. Yup! I got married in September! Go us! It wasn't easy but we had a lot of help from friends and family and we had a great day. 

Anyway, I really, really want to get back into this project of documenting documentaries (har-dee-har-har). I really do love the genre and there's just so many, on so many different subjects! Last time I tackled a pretty lighthearted subject with God Is the Bigger Elvis. This time, I have a bit of a darker subject to tackle: the state of women in Iran. 

Filmmaker Nahid Persson was born in Iran, however she escaped to Sweden in 1982 when Islamic fundamentalists took control. Seventeen years later, she returned, shocked to discover poverty was rampant and social justice had deteriorated. 

Iran used to be one of the most liberal Muslim countries. Now, however, the Koran is considered law, and religious infractions are considered crimes, punishable by imprisonment, torture and execution. 

In Prostitution: Behind the Veil, Persson chronicles the struggles of two women she meets quite by accident during a visit to Iran. The film is narrated by Nahid Persson herself. She first meets Habib, a man who works as a fortune teller using parakeets. Yes, parakeets. Apparently this is a really common thing! The guy sets a parakeet down and the bird picks a fortune out for you and you pay for it. I kid you not! 

This is not a screenshot from the documentary but it's the closest thing I could find. 

Anyway, Habib is run off the street corner he is fortune-telling on by the religious police and Persson and her crew end up following him home. Habib lives in a tenement building with ten other people with no running water or toilets, just a water pump in the courtyard. While there, Persson meets Fariba and Mina, two young women in their early-to-mid 20s, with a child each, who make their living through prostitution. 

They live in tiny rooms with barely any furniture and rags covering the windows. There are no locks on their doors. They have no beds but instead sleep on the floor with their children. They casually chat as Persson films and Mina threads Fariba's eyebrows, which are as thick and unruly as Frida Khalo's. 

They talk about sex and what they do to make a living, but also about the guilt and shame they feel. They talk about their methods of birth control - condoms are preferred, because they protect them against diseases (they are both fond of flavored condoms). Persson explains that when Islamic power rose in Iran, they banned all contraceptives. Because of this, the population doubled within a short period of time. By the time the government realized their mistake and lifted the ban on contraceptives, it was too late and overpopulation was already a growing concern. Fariba also tells Persson that the religious police tend to look the other way when it comes to prostitution, and confesses that she herself has slept with the chief of the religious police, and he paid her $20. "He was rough," she adds."I didn't like it."

Later, as the girls smoke heroin together, Fariba pulls out a photo album and says she wants to "show that we didn't always live like this." 

Fariba was married to a young man from a respected, wealthy family. Her brother-in-law was a medical student. Her father-in-law was a literary professor. Less than a year before this interview, Fariba's husband was arrested for drug use, and sentenced to life in prison. Mina's story is shockingly similar. Her husband is also in jail, serving a 35-year sentence for smuggling, selling drugs and murder. He was the one who was responsible for getting Mina addicted to heroin. 

In the film, Persson introduces us to the concept of a sighe. It is something that is perfectly legal in Islamic Iran. It is when a man takes on an "extra" wife that he can later sell to another man for a profit. During the time of the sighe marriage, which is negotiated with a verbal contract and then sealed by a mullah (Islamic clergy), the woman must act as a wife must - she must cover her head, ask her husband for permission to leave the house, and service him in bed. Sighe marriages can last any period of time, from ten minutes to 99 years, and the woman is often paid a fee for her participation. 

Habib, the parakeet fortune teller who is a man of about sixty, makes a sighe marriage of six months with a 17 year old girl that he'd only known for about ten minutes. Persson narrates that girls in Iran are married off as young as nine years old. It turns out that Mina has a sighe that she has a two-month contract with. She shows Fariba the marks on her body where he has cut, kicked and scratched her, and cries as she confesses he hits her 20-month-old daughter as well. 

One thing that I wished Persson covered more in the documentary was how Mina and Fariba solicit their customers. I know that sounds like an odd thing to say, but for a documentary called Prostitution: Behind the Veil, she does not focus very much on the actual profession of prostitution. She follows Mina and Fariba only one time each. Heartbreakingly enough, they are forced to bring their children with them as they solicit, since there is no one else to watch them. Fariba makes $5 off a cabbie, who forces her to buy condoms from a nearby pharmacy because "it isn't right" for him to do it himself. He allows Persson to film him as he drives and haggles over price with Fariba, telling her that he wants people to see that Iran has gone to hell. Mina picks up two young men in a car who pay her $10 each. They drive her and her baby to their apartment. She hands the baby off to one of the men as she goes into the bedroom with the other. "When he's done, you can come in," she says, flicking her head scarf over her shoulder. 

Persson reflects more on the concept of sighe marriages and the religious power oppressing the women of Iran more than the actual act of prostitution and how so many women fall into that trap. She mentions how grateful she is that she can return to Sweden where she has opportunities, and women in Iran cannot and do not. 

There was really no moral or message to this documentary. Persson does include an epilogue about Fariba and Mina, but the information is sparse. I wish she had gotten more interviews with more prostitutes. She does manage to talk to Fariba's sister-in-law and mother, but no one from Mina's family. I would have liked a little more background on the girls. 

Though I was intrigued and saddened by the information I learned in the documentary, I really wish it had a little more meat on its bones. It did make me grateful that I have grown up in a country where I am not considered property, and where I can get an education and vote and make my own choices. Persson made it very clear that she was glad she left when she did. But I feel like the film lacked something, and it was probably more stories, but I thank Nahid Persson for making this film and showing us what is going on in other parts of the world that we have no idea about.