Turtles can fly

Near the Iraqi-Turkish border on the eve of an American invasion, refugee children like 13-year-old Kak (Ebrahim), gauge and await their fate.

Turtles Can Fly, written and directed by Bahman Ghobadi (Marooned in Iraq, A Time for Drunken Horses) takes place in the days leading up to America's second war against Iraq, in a small village and refugee camp on the border of Iraq and Turkey. Soran Ebrahim stars as Satellite, a boy nicknamed for his obsession with technology. Satellite is also obsessed with the United States, and sprinkles bits of English throughout his speech. His strong personality and his resourcefulness have made him a leader among the younger children in the village. He even convinces the village elders to trade in their radios and purchase a satellite dish so they can watch news broadcasts on the upcoming war. Tension mounts as the village waits to hear when the U.S. will invade. For his part, Satellite finds himself smitten with an orphan girl, Agrin (Avaz Latif), who wanders into the refugee camp with her armless older brother, Henkov (Hirsh Feyssal), and a little boy who is nearly blind. Henkov earns a meager living clearing minefields, like Satellite, so Satellite sees him, at first, as a rival. But his earnest desire to help Agrin eventually extends to her family. Satellite and his friends find moments of joy amid the chaos and destruction, but Agrin seems haunted by past events too painful to reconcile, and her brother Henkov derives no pleasure from his seeming ability to predict the future. Turtles Can Fly was shown by the Film Society of Lincoln Center in 2005 as a part of the Film Comment Selects series. — Josh Ralske

The true face of "perpetual warfare" is exposed in Bahman Ghobadi's astonishing and heart-wrenching Turtles Can Fly. Set precipitously on the border of Iraq, Turkey, and Kurdistan, with the second Gulf War looming, Ghobadi's film succeeds almost immediately in naturalizing deprivation and destruction. It throws us right into a world of maimed kids who lead lives of desperation. But they're still children, and most of them retain an interest in childish pursuits, in friendship and in play. There are moments of joy and warmth amid the terror, and Ghobadi and his talented young cast of nonprofessionals convey it all beautifully, and the filmmaker manages to tell an engrossing story without a hint of contrivance. Satellite (Soran Ebrahim) is our entry point, and despite his braggadocio, Ebrahim is an immensely likeable presence. His essential decency is drawn out by Agrin's (Avaz Latif) plight. Even her armless psychic brother, Henkov (Hirsh Feyssal), finds a way to move beyond his ordeal. He's still driven by a need to survive, and by his sense of responsibility toward Agrin and the little blind boy who travels with them. But Agrin is too traumatized to adjust, and the blind toddler becomes the focal point of her feelings of degradation. Satellite, a natural optimist who admires President Bush ("The world is in his hands," he says with awe) learns a painful lesson. It would be difficult to overstate Ghobadi's accomplishment here. Turtles Can Fly is humane, funny, and visually acute, but it never shies away from the ugliness that mars these innocent lives. — Josh Ralske