Afghan Star

In the opening sequence of director Havana Marking’s documentary Afghan Star, dozens of Afghani men (and a few Afghani women) stand in front of television cameras and sing for a panel of wincing judges, acting out what has become an unmistakable pop-culture cliché in the Western world.  Incredibly, the Pop Idol phenomenon (an immensely popular British television franchise that inspired American Idol) has come to Afghanistan, and it is all the rage.

While this may seem to be can’t-miss subject matter for a documentary, the fact of the matter is that the structure of the television show threatens to derail the energy and drama of the film from the opening frames.  For, while it is certainly interesting to see such a decidedly democratic Western phenomenon play out on Afghan television, the endless singing and voting that are the hallmarks of the Idol genre are, at this point, less than compelling.  Thankfully, Marking combines a finely tuned storytelling sensibility with fortuitous events, and in so doing produces a film that is far more engaging than a straightforward profile of a new Idol iteration.

The film focuses on two men (Rafi and Hameed), two women (Lima and Setara), and their approaches towards the competition.  While the men drive around passing out self-promoting fliers like small-town American politicians, the women are more reflective:  Lima talks about the secret music lessons she takes, and Setara confides her dreams of pop stardom to the camera.  At all times, the different standards of behavior for men and women in Afghanistan are apparent.  Given the fact that Lima and Setara can barely go outdoors, it is truly remarkable to watch them share the stage with the men on the Afghan Star set.

With this context established, the contestants and their travails become much more compelling. While the executive producer of the show highlights the ways in which the program is uniting Afghanistan, interviews with regular citizens reveal that most people will still be voting along ethnic and tribal lines.  But the mere fact that democracy is taking place at all is remarkable; the film makes a point of mentioning that, for most Afghanis, this is the first time they will have voted for anything in their lives.

Still, these are all aspects of the narrative that could fairly be called predictable.  It is not until Setara is voted off the show that the story transcends basic anthropological themes and changes into a real life and death drama. Throughout the opening rounds, Setara is the only contestant who has had the audacity to move her body at all during her singing; while this would be considered very timid dancing by a Western audience, it is seen as scandalous and morally bankrupt by most Afghanis.  In her farewell song, Setara dances more than ever before, removes her headscarf, and points at the camera. Shocked silence descends on the people in the dressing room.  For the remainder of the film, we watch as Setara hides from public view, afraid for her life. Amidst death threats and rumors of her own demise, she eventually returns to her family, who are simultaneously relieved and horrified to see her, since those who wish her ill undoubtedly know where her family lives.

This incredible sequence is a harrowing reminder that simply partaking in the trappings of a culture is a far cry from actually believing in the underlying principles of that culture.  In the end, Marking’s Afghan Star is a heartfelt depiction of a people struggling to find their moral compass after years of religious and social oppression. Even though Setara’s ordeal is frightening to behold, the fact remains that nearly an entire nation took part in a celebration of singing and music, two forms of self expression that were illegal only nine years ago, and in this there is hope for the future.

                                       Orson Robbins-Pianka