Film addressing Iranian underground music lets ‘Persian Cats’ out of the bag

For the first few scenes, the grainy picture quality, unstable camera movement, and quickly streaming subtitles make “No One Knows About Persian Cats” seem daunting, elusive, and overwhelming. But that is what the Iranian music underground is: unstable, mysterious, and irresistible.

Directed by Kurdish-Iranian writer-director Bahman Ghobadi, “No One Knows About Persian Cats” blurs the line between documentary and narrative film, telling the fictional tale of two real underground Iranian musicians as they visit with real Iranian musicians in hopes of forming a band and traveling to Europe to perform. While the frame story may be fictional, protagonists Negar Shaghaghi and Ashkan Koshanejad play fictionalized versions of their own personalities while their crafty yet faithful agent Nader is played by Iranian actor Hamed Behdad. All of the musicians, music venues, and other locations presented in the film are real.

Negar and Ashkan, as well as their indie rock friends, look more like Williamsburg hipsters than the stereotypical Iranian. Although Negar wears a hijab and loose-fitting clothing, as deemed mandatory under Iranian law, she dons the same square hipster glasses worn by many in the indie rock scene here in New York.

Besides the comical and at times desperate antics of Nader as he helps Negar and Ashkan try to make it big, the framed narrative lacks emotional depth and complexity to be successful. It is the showcases of the multitude of real underground Iranian music genres that elevate the film to extraordinary heights. As each new musician/band performs, Ghobadi veers off from the main plot to express visually what the song represents in Iranian society. He essentially interweaves music videos—think ’90s MTV political statement videos rather than Lady Gaga—into the film.

But this film isn’t just fun and games in the underground. Unlike the “underground” music scene in the United States, the stakes are much higher than becoming commercial—and much more dangerous. The antagonist isn’t a person but an institution: the law banning Western-influenced music, not to mention the myriad restrictions on female performers. As every character rebels against the “man”—some succeeding, some not, Ghobadi ensures that while the film’s subject is inherently political, the underground culture doesn’t want to change the world but simply wants to play some tunes. As one musician states, “We’re just playing music... We’re not hurting anyone.”

As soon as the narrative frame finally seemed to gain momentum, the film ended alarmingly abruptly. It was unsatisfying and uncalled for, but perhaps that is what Ghobadi intended: to leave the audience in a state of unease and confusion that will promote discussion and thought about the film and its messages.

Nevertheless, the shining star of the film lies in the music. From indie rock to heavy metal to traditional Persian music, Ghobadi meticulously presents how each genre encompasses a segment of Iranian culture to create the overall modern Persian identity. It is this union that ensures that everyone someday will know about Persian cats.