40 Days of Silence - under pressure from the legacy of generations gone before

I've said before that one of my favourite aspects of the film festival is a sense of a journey around the world and an opportunity to be introduced to communities and lives that I might never otherwise get a glimpse of.  I can’t think of another film off the top of my head that I've seen set in former Soviet central Asia (the beginning of Borat doesn't count!) and rural Tajikistan is certainly a place I know absolutely nothing about.  It is the setting for the magical-realist 40 Days of Silence, the story of a teenager, Bibicha, as she embarks on a 40 day vow of silence, following a family tradition.  Through this central story, are weaved memories and vignettes of lives of previous generations of women in her family

The director skilfully brings out a sense of place and community – both isolated from and connected to the wider world – and some very strongly realised characters.  Within this though, there is an over tendency towards long shots of mountains, fields, empty streets – perhaps more than is needed for the sense of place that the director is trying to create.  The cinematography is evocative enough that taking us away from the story is so frequently is a distraction.  The peacefulness is an interesting contract to Bibicha’s mental turbulence, but it feels a little overused and slightly disengaged me from the story at times.

The scenes showing Bibicha’s mental disintegration under the pressure of her vow that are particularly memorable and skilfully achieved and form the core of the film.  They in particular (along with the family life around her) are what really engrossed me in the film.  Firstly credit must go to both director and actor for bringing to life so vividly a character who doesn't speak nor dominate the screen time but still dominates the film. Despite the harrowing effect on her mental state, the vow and the choice to make it are depicted as coming from a position of strength, of willing accepted duty, of a way of connection to her family’s past, rather than from submission or oppression. Bibicha is a fascinating character, coming across as determined, stoic and strong but also as very much a teenage girl, whether being mischievous or stubborn. 

The director uses horror tropes in a really interesting and effective way to evoke the experience of the effect of the vow, from the quietly creepy ghostly visitation at the beginning to the full-on panic that Bibicha has in the woods later on.  The soundscapes and score that accompany these are incredibly evocative, utterly pulling the viewer in to the scene.  The subplots are well and handled and acted and complement Bibicha’s story well.  I was also struck with how the director combined the extraordinary and the everyday to set the scene for these stories.  Overlaid on this background, the way the director brought together the different women’s stories was also very well achieved – all the stories, from the radio tale listened to by Bibicha’s grandmother to her aunt’s struggle for acceptance of her choices felt unique and distinct but also complementary, painting an interesting tableau of women’s experiences across the generations.

All in all, the film was a very interesting and absorbing journey into the unknown and a fascinating portrait of one family.