The Clay Bird: Tareque Masud's Masterpiece
The Clay Bird: Tareque Masud's Masterpiece
Bird
A film directed by Tareque Masud
Cast
Anu................................................ Nurul Islam Bablu
Rokon............................................ Russell Farazi
Kazi ................................................ Jayanto Chattopadhyay
Ayesha .......................................... Rokeya Prachy
Milon ............................................. Soaeb Islam
Asma ............................................. Lameesa R. Reemjheem
Ibrahim ......................................... Moin Ahmed
Bakiullah ....................................... Md. Moslemuddin
Halim Mia...................................... Adbul Karim
Karim Majhi (Boyati) .................... Shah Alam Dewan
Shaheen........................................ Golam Mahmud
Uttam ............................................ Pradip Mittra Mithun
Crew
Director......................................... Tareque Masud
Producer ....................................... Catherine Masud
Screenplay.................................... Tareque and Catherine Masud
Main Cinematography ................ Sudheer Palsane
Additional Cinematography....... Ranjan Palit, Maksudul Bari
First Camera Assistant................. Gaetane Rousseau
Sound Recording ......................... Indrajit Neogi
Additional Sound......................... Abdus Sattar Ripon, Keramot Ali
Editing........................................... Catherine Masud
Art Direction and Set Design...... Kazi Rakib, Sylvain Nahmias
Costume Design .......................... Masuda Kazi, Kazi Rakib
Music Director.............................. Moushumi Bhowmik
Sound Mix..................................... Ratan Paul
Executive Producer...................... Nathalie Kreuther
A Franco-Bangladeshi co-production MK 2 sa/Audiovision
With the support of ..................... The South Fund (Fonds Sud Cinema)
French Ministry of Culture and Communication
CNC (French National Film Center
French Ministry of Foreign Affairs
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Festivals and Awards
2002 Cannes Film Festival, FIPRESCI International Critics’ Prize for Best Film
2002 Edinburgh International Film Festival
2002 Montreal International Film Festival
2002 Marrakesh Film Festival (Morocco), Best Screen Play Award
2002 Cairo International Film Festival
2003 Palm Springs International Film Festival
2003 New Directors/New Films Festival, New York
Synopsis
Set against the backdrop of the turbulent period in the late 1960s leading up to Bangladesh’s
independence from Pakistan, The Clay Bird tells the story of a family torn apart by religion and
war. Anu, a shy young boy from rural East Pakistan (Bangladesh, as it is now known) is sent
away by his father Kazi, an orthodox Muslim, to a madrasa or Islamic school. Far from his
family and the colorful pagan festivities of his village, Anu struggles to adapt to the school’s
harsh monastic life.
As the political divisions in the country mount, an increasing split develops between
moderate and extremist forces within the madrasa, mirroring a growing divide between the
stubborn but confused Kazi and his increasingly independent wife, Ayesha.
These conflicts intensify as the country is wracked by political upheavals, culminating in the
outbreak of civil war. Amidst the devastation, Ayesha makes her own life choice and the once
passive Anu finds a new path into adulthood.
Touching upon themes of religious tolerance, cultural diversity, and the complexity of Islam,
The Clay Bird has universal relevance in a crisis-ridden world.
Main Characters
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Asma (Lameesa R. Reemjheem)
Lively and curious, Asma is Anu’s younger sister. She boosts her
mother’s spirits after Anu is sent off to madrasa. When she becomes
ill, will her father’s insistence on using only homeopathic remedies
threaten Asma’s recovery?
Historical Background
The Clay Bird is set in the late 1960s when a democratic movement agitating for general
elections was building against the Pakistani junta. Until 1971, Bangladesh formed the eastern
wing of the Great Islamic State of Pakistan. For more than two decades the region had been in
revolt against the western wing’s military rule and domination. This democratic movement
for autonomy reached its peak in 1969 when it brought down the military government in
power. The new military ruler, Yahya Khan, promised to hold free and fair elections. In 1970,
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the elections were held and the leader of the pro-democracy movement, Sheikh Mujibur
Rahman, won a resounding victory. But the Pakistani military canceled the elections and in
March 1971, organized a violent crackdown — targeting Bengali students, political leaders
and the Hindu minority. The civil war that followed pitted a poorly armed population against
US-backed forces. After nine months of fighting, on December 16, 1971, the people achieved
victory and the independent state of Bangladesh was founded. An estimated three million
Bengalis were killed during the conflict and almost ten million were made refugees. After
1971, the international community’s interest in the cause of Bangladesh declined sharply.
Today, this major genocide of the late twentieth century is largely forgotten.
Tareque Masud
Tareque Masud was born in 1957 in Faridpur, Bangladesh and spent most of his childhood in
a madrasa (Islamic seminary school). The Bangladesh war of independence from Pakistan in
1971 put an abrupt end to his religious studies. After the war he entered general education,
eventually completing his masters in history from Dhaka University.
Masud was actively involved in the film society movement from his university days, and
participated in numerous short courses and workshops on film in Bangladesh and abroad. He
started his first film, a documentary on the Bangladeshi painter S.M. Sultan, in late 1982. Since
then he has directed a number of short, documentary, and animation films. In 1989, he
married American Catherine Masud (an American), and moved to New York to work with her
on a 35mm documentary, Muktir Gaan (Song of Freedom). In 1995, he returned to Dhaka to
continue his filmmaking career.
In 2002 his first feature film, The Clay Bird premiered at the Cannes Film Festival. He is a
founding member of the Short Film Forum, the primary forum for alternative filmmakers in
Bangladesh, and in 1988 served as Coordinator of the First International Short Film Festival
held in Dhaka. He has also attended international film festivals and seminars in Europe, the
US, and Asia and writes occasionally on film-related themes for periodicals and journals. He
and Catherine Masud run a film production firm, Audiovision, based in Dhaka and the couple
has produced numerous documentaries and shorts. The Clay Bird is their first feature film.
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Catherine Masud
Catherine Masud was born in Chicago in 1963. She is a graduate in economics from Brown
University, and did post-graduate studies in fine arts at the Art Institute of Chicago, and film
production in New York. Since 1995, she has been living in Dhaka, Bangladesh with her
husband, Tareque Masud.
Under the banner of their production house Audiovision, she has produced and directed
numerous films. She recently produced and co-wrote her first feature The Clay Bird, directed
by Tareque, which won the International Critics’ Prize at Cannes. In addition, Catherine has
worked extensively with street children in Bangladesh, and recently completed a
documentary based on their life stories, A Kind of Childhood.
Filmography
A Kind of Childhood (Betacam SP, 50 mins, 2002)
Directors: Tareque & Catherine Masud; Production: Xingu Films/Audiovision
A documentary on the lives and struggles of working children in Dhaka, followed over the
course of six years.
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Unison (Umatic video, 4 mins, 1994)
Animated film about the unity of humankind.
But Matir Moina (The Clay Bird) is not just a film about childhood or Islam — it’s about
relationships. Relationships between child and adult, between different belief systems… In
particular, I was interested in exploring relationships between people who continue to grow,
and people who don’t — people who are stuck in some sort of belief system. The film is about
those people who are ever-evolving, usually children but sometimes also adults, ordinary
people who are still “children” in the greater sense of the word, because they’ve retained that
essential childlike innocence and curiosity and have the capacity to grow with the day-to-day
experience of life. In contrast to them are people who cling to their beliefs, whether religious,
political or whatever, and cannot grow or adapt with the changing world. I’ll give you the
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example of the young people in my crew. Many had never met madrasa children before they
met the actual madrasa students who acted in the film. They discovered in the process of
making the film that madrasa children are loveable like all children, and also extremely
intelligent, and so “real!” Likewise the madrasa children were able to get a new and diverse
exposure through the interaction with our crew. If all madrasa kids had more exposure to the
world, it would be good for them.
TM: Almost all of the characters and events in the film are from my childhood. I really had a
sister who died. And, as in the film, my mother can neither forget nor forgive that my father
prohibited the use of general medicine. As for Rokon, he is a combination of three friends I
used to have in madrasa. Concerning the outbreak of war, everything is true to my own
experience, except that, unlike the film, we managed to convince our father to leave the
house with us.
Catherine Masud: There are no casting studios in Bangladesh. To find the main child
characters, we went to different schools for working class children. We made a documentary
film on these special schools run by NGOs [non-governmental organizations, a UN
designation]. The children, who have singing and play-acting workshops, are quite good at
acting; they are already “oriented” in that field, so to speak. Some of the students are real
madrasa students too, and we mixed them together with the street children in the film. But
we didn’t find Anu through this channel. We had met many children, including kids oriented
by their parents to become actors. They’d come with pictures and videos but were totally
inappropriate. So we searched through friends…
We needed a child with a reflexive cast of mind who was extremely open to the world, curious
without expressing much. By a fluke we found a boy who worked as a house servant for
friends of ours. He had come to the city from his village to work and go to school.
TM: In the teachers’ case, some are professional actors and others are actual madrasa
teachers. Some, like Halim and Bakiullah, had occasionally worked as extras, but had never
been given a dialogue scene before. We gave them major parts because they look like real
people, not sophisticated and urban like most professional actors. It’s not that we have
anything against professional actors, but our background is in documentary filmmaking,
where people “play” their own character. They are more flexible and often less self-conscious.
Our goal was to find people whose personal life would have some kind of connection with
what the character goes through. For example, in the case of Ayesha, we were looking for
someone who was a mother in real life, and also had been through some difficult life
experience or tragedy. The actress who plays Ayesha had this background. And her daughter
plays Anu’s sister!
CM: The actors who played Kazi and Ayesha are the only professionals in our cast. But they are
not big stars! Kazi’s case is very interesting too. He plays an orthodox Muslim and he’s actually
a Hindu! But he has such a talent for picking up accents, expressions … Kazi becomes a victim
of the whole system he’s trapped himself in. We needed someone who had a natural
expression of sadness in the eyes, on his face. And they actor has actually been through a
difficult time, a sad history too.
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Question: Are the madrasa teachers really as strict as the ones in the film?
TM: I tried to rely on my own memories. Some teachers were very strict, but they just strongly
believed, like many parents, that getting a strict education is good for children. I don’t want to
make caricatures. I never considered the head teacher, Bakiullah as a bad guy. He’s part of a
belief system, which encourages discipline and hard-line beliefs. The other teacher, Ibrahim, is
more of a Kafkaesque character. He’s very sweet but also weak. Although he may disagree, he
never confronts Bakiullah. I based this character on a real teacher of mine. Like Ibrahim, he
came from a remote part of the country, Noakhali district. He spoke the dialect of that region,
which in Bangladesh is considered to be the most backward place. Traditionally in Bengali the
stupid and ludicrous character always speaks like this dialect. But because of my own memory
of my teacher, I wanted to give the most positive character in the film this accent and break
the stereotype. I made him speak Noakhali dialect in such a soft and musical way that won’t
sound ridiculous at all to a Bangladeshi audience.
TM: If there is any message in the film at all, it’s a message against having any strong message
or opinion. As you know, there are many references to homeopathy, communism, and Islam
in the film. There’s nothing wrong with any of them per se. The problem begins when we try
to claim that any belief system is the only solution to every issue and aspect of life. In all
religions, there is a danger of extremism, and Islam is no exception. But, like other religions,
Islam also has its own diverse schools and interpretations. There has always been a great
tradition within Islam of “bahas” (religions debate). That’s why there are 74 sects in Islam,
possibly more than any other religion. Unfortunately this culture of questioning and quest has
declined dramatically in recent times. It’s important to bring back this dialogue between
different interpretations of Islam. Islam respects the capability of individual reasoning over
the dictates of any priesthood. That’s why “Ilm” (Islamic knowledge) is so much emphasized in
Islam, so that individual Muslims can interpret scriptures without going to a mullah. A Muslim
does not need to go to a mullah or Mufti for confession to relieve their guilt for committing a
sin. Also, unlike other faiths Islam believes in prophetic pluralism, decreeing that loyalty to all
other prophets including Abraham, Moses and Jesus and others is a must. But at the same
time, Islamic creed strongly condemns “Sherek,” the claim that anything or anyone, even a
prophet, should be equal to Allah. In Islam, the prophet Mohammed is known as “Habib,” or
friend, of Allah, not his son, or a lord in his own right. Even within the orthodox, or “Shariah”
school, there are many debates and divergences. The character of Ibrahim in the film is an
example of a more orthodox interpretation, which is at the same time moderate and
questioning of extremist views.
TM: Film can be an extension of life. I consider my film not only a journey into the heart of my
community and my childhood but also a search inside my own self. Matir Moina (The Clay Bird)
is not a film about a community seen from outside, but rather from inside — trying to
understand myself, my own community, and my own religion as a fellow Muslim. But at the
same time I feel fortunate having known other religions thanks to my inter-religious marriage.
That possibly gave me an additional perspective.
I deliberately used the name of Ibrahim in the film because it is in itself a unifying principle
between the Judeo-Christian tradition (Abraham) and Islam. Understanding differences
between cultures helps you to appreciate their basic commonalties, such as what I can now
observe between East and West. We must develop our knowledge about others. Knowledge
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is like a bridge between differences. If America understood more about Islam and if Muslims
understood more about America, it would better for both.
Exposure to other religions and other societies does not only make you more tolerant to
others; it makes you feel closer to your own identity. I lived in New York for five years, and that
experience made me appreciate my own society more than ever. But I never felt an outsider
there. New York is so multi-cultural that it is hard not to feel a sense of belonging. On the
other hand, when I live in Bangladesh sometimes I feel I’m an outsider in my own country. A
good friend of ours was killed on Sept. 11th in the Twin Towers tragedy. He worked on the
102nd floor. I felt extremely emotional when I heard about it. But when I visited New York
again, strangely enough I began to feel an outsider there for the first time. Sometimes I feel
like the character of Anu in the film, as Anu always feels like an outsider, both at madrasa and
at home.
Interview with Tareque Masud from Le Monde’s weekly supplement Aden May 15, 2002
“My Islam Believes in Dialogue. My film raises questions only.
It’s then up to each person to make their own judgment.”
The director of Matir Moina wants to show the beauty and diversity of his country.
Le Monde: This is your first feature film. It also tells your own personal story?
Tareque Masud: My childhood was the most intense period of my life. Like Anu, the little boy
in the film, I underwent religious schooling in madrasa. These schools are very strict. At the
same time, they help the most disadvantaged children. I myself had come from a relatively
privileged background, and in the madrasa I found myself surrounded by children who, for
the most part, had no family.
Le Monde: This was a period of growing political tension between Islamic extremists and
secularists. At the end of the film, civil war breaks out. Despite all this, you have adopted a
very contemplative stance on these dramatic events.
TM: Being a child, I saw these events from a distance. It was this sense of distance — which I
believe is essential — that I tried to recreate in the film. Anu is a passive observer of the world
around him. He does not try to intervene. This puts him in a privileged position. Adults
already have preconceived opinions and judgments. But through Anu’s eyes, without
discrimination, the diverse aspects of my society are revealed: religious pluralism, the
moderate Sufi sects, the secular traditions, nationalism… In this context, political upheaval is
just one aspect among many. It’s then up to each person, following Anu’s lead, to make their
own judgment. If my film raises questions, it does so from the innocent perspective of a child.
Le Monde: Through all its contrasting impressions, an image emerges of a country that is
culturally very rich.
TM: Bangladesh is a complex country. This reality has nothing to do with its image abroad, of
a poor country of famine, flood and fundamentalism. I wanted to convey my own image of
my country, that of a moderate Muslim Bangladesh, and to bring out its social, cultural, and
political diversity… I wanted to show the diversity of my country in all its contradictions — for
me this is the best approach, not only because it is more credible, but also because it is more
beautiful.
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TM: For us, Islam is rooted in our own soil, it has evolved and adapted to our own traditions,
including Hinduism. It has thus become our own form of Islam, a popular Islam. This is
expressed through the “bahas” songs that we hear in the film. These mystical songs are still
very popular, and serve to transmit much of our knowledge and heritage. They are a means of
meditation and prayer.
Le Monde: However, as we see with Anu’s father, many Muslims condemn these practices…
TM: In the strict sense of the Shariah, songs are considered profane. But this is only from an
oversimplified reading of the Koran and Hadith. It doesn’t take account of the different
interpretations and debates that have always been an essential part of our religion.
Unfortunately, this aspect is often overlooked. For the rest of the world, the image of Islam
tends to be dominated by its extremist and intolerant currents. However, our religion is
founded on principles of dialogue. This is what I wanted to show in my film. I have a deep
respect for the Islamic faith, and I hope this film will help my fellow Muslims. It evokes the
core of our religion, a religion of reflection and personal interpretation. This is what is known
in Sufism as “individual reasoning.”
In May 2000, they received the prestigious French Government Fonds Sud (South Fund) grant
for the film’s production, based on the quality of their script. This grant covered the film stock,
35mm camera equipment and laboratory facilities from France that were necessary to ensure
the technical quality of the production. In addition, Tareque and Catherine were extremely
lucky to secure the involvement of MK2, a prestigious Paris-based production and distribution
firm, as co-producer and international distributor.
In early 2002 the film was completed, and in May, The Clay Bird became the first feature film
from Bangladesh to be selected for presentation at the world-renowned Cannes Film Festival.
At Cannes, it was given the honor of being the opening film of the Directors’ Fortnight section
of the festival, and won the International Critics’ Prize for best film in that section. However,
even as the French and international press were lauding the film for its positive portrayal of
Bangladesh and its tolerant traditions, the Bangladesh Censor Board gave their own verdict:
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the film was banned from public screening because it was deemed too religiously sensitive.
For the Masuds, who had endured so much struggle and sacrifice to make the film, it was a
crushing blow.
The film was subsequently released in France to wide appreciation, but initially it could not be
shown in the country of its origin. A massive campaign was launched in the Bangladesh press
and over the Internet against the ban, and pressure mounted on the Bangladesh government
to reverse their decision. After taking their case to the Appeal Board, the Masuds succeeded in
getting the ban lifted, but several cuts were demanded by the board. Finally, in October 200,
the film had its Bangladesh premiere breaking box office records.
Orality also forms the base of the Bengali mystical tradition as well. In contrast to the written
tradition of Sufism in Iran, which is based on poetic texts, mysticism in Bangladesh took on
the oral and musical forms of rural Bengali society. Although in the stricter sense of Shariah
(see glossary on page 25 for definition) music is forbidden, in Bangladesh, mystical vocal
music has become a powerful, yet subtle, form of protest. The lyrics of mystical songs are
suggestive, restrained, and highly metaphoric in nature. This genre of local folk music is a
confluence of Muslim Sufism, Hindu Vaishnavism, and Buddhist mysticism.
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The mystic singers, who are often authors and composers of their songs, are known as Bauls.
They live a life of simplicity and detachment from the trappings of material life, perpetually
traveling from one mystical gathering to another. Their songs also travel from singer to singer
and place to place and the “texts” continue to evolve and change. Although Bauls live like
Buddhist monks and refuse to sing professionally, they attract large followings in the villages.
Inspired by the timeless lyrics and tunes of Baul songs, thousands of professional mystical
singers, known as boyatis, have popularized this spiritual music. Boyatis have taken the mystic
tradition to a more polemical plane through their bahas — debate-songs on theosophical
themes. In more recent times, many of the most popular boyatis have been women singers,
adding a new dimension to the evolving and ever-dynamic oral musical tradition of
Bangladesh.
The Clay Bird principally deals with the social and political environment in which Tareque
Masud grew up, but also attempts to show the various aspects of Bangladeshi culture. In fact,
one of the main sources of inspiration of the films was music, including folk music, melodic
chants, flute and string instruments. The filmmakers were especially inspired by musical
oratorical duels known as bahas. For example, in one song, a man and a woman debate
fundamentalism and other more complex forms of Islam. Often these village musical
gatherings will last all night and take on such philosophical themes as the superiority of men
vs. women or the nature of the true God. The singers initially improvise their lyrics (which
often include references to the Koran and the Vedas) and then the songs are transmitted
through oral tradition.
Through its exploration of the musical traditions of Bangladesh, The Clay Bird also conveys the
country’s pluralistic culture and tradition of tolerance and openness. In Bangladeshi villages
folk music remains very popular, despite the growing influence of television. And while it is
said that Shariah prohibits music, in essence these songs are a means of prayer and
meditation for all. They are treasures of Bengali culture.
The original soundtrack of music from The Clay Bird is available from MK2 Music. The title of
the CD is Bande Originale L’ Oiseau d’Argile. Composed by Moushumi Bhowmik, it is available
online at: http://boutique.mk2.com/home.asp
http://www.fnac.com/
http://world.abeillemusique.com/produit.php?cle=6347
http://www.amazon.fr
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Selected Song Texts from The Clay Bird
Jodi Bheste Jaite Chao — Duel of Poets (If You Wish to Go to Heaven)
Ali, the Tiger of Allah, Ali says, “Your curse is for none
Thinks himself so handsome, other than your own son.
Seeing his own masculine beauty Hossain witnessed your sacred self
In the mirror in an invisible mosque.”
Ali’s son Hossain tells his father, Hearing Fatema’s cry, Allah says:
“If only you knew “I can save your son
My mother’s true beauty” but no other child will be
spared their mother’s curse.”
Ali rushes to his wife and says,
“Show me your beauty Cries out Earth-Mother Fatema,
that you’ve hidden even “O Allah, let me lose my son.
from your own husband” But let no other child
suffer from the curse of their mother!”
Fatema replies,
“It’s not a physical beauty The inner grace of Mohammed’s
that can be seen with the naked eye.” Daughter illuminates the world
Thus Fatema’s pain redeems
Then Fatema utters her curse: The suffering of all women
“Whoever beheld my divine image
will die in a fratricidal war.”
The bird is trapped in the body’s cage It wants to join the joyful birds
Its feet are bound with worldly chains Leaving its fleeting home behind
It tries to fly but falters to the ground
The bird is trapped in the body’s cage The clay bird laments:
“Why did you infuse
Rainbow colored birds My heart with longing
Circle freely in the sky If you didn’t give my wings
Their brilliant splendor The strength to fly?”
A rapture for the eye
Its feet are bound with worldly chains
The bird pines with longing It tries to fly but falters to the ground
It yearns to spread its wings The bird is trapped in the body’s cage
Milaad
Islamic Death Ritual Chant
Halim Mia (junior teacher): So you want to say that our mission is to spread elem? Just elem for
elem’s sake?
Ibrahim: Definitely not. What are we doing here? This is not just elem. This is amal also. You
see who comes to study in our madrasas? Many are orphans, of course. Also, parents who
cannot feed and clothe their children, not to mention educate them, send their children here.
Isn’t this so? Our duty is to care for these children and make them into pure Muslims. This is
our mission. Our amal. It’s not fair to use these children for any political end.
Halim Mia: But in the name of secularism, the pro-communists are endangering the very
existence of Islam in this country. We need to confront them, don’t we?
Ibrahim: Then tell me, what is the difference between us and the communists?
Halim Mia: How can you separate Islam from politics? Now the existence of Pakistan is at
stake. And if Pakistan is torn apart, Islam will be destroyed as well.
Ibrahim: Halim Mia, please tell me. Why do you think Islam will be endangered by the collapse
of Pakistan? Did Pakistan strengthen Islam, or has it rather established military rule?
Uttam: You’re still under the spell of your communist ghosts. You know what’s funny — don’t
mind this — despite your differences, there’s a strange similarity between you and your big
brother. Kazi shaheb’s homeo-path, and you’re Marx-path: both came from Germany. Did you
notice that?
Fourth Friend: Marxism, capitalism, all isms — in the process of fighting over all these Western
isms and schisms we’re just screwing ourselves!
Shaheen: So what about Islam? Isn’t that just another thing from the West?
Fourth Friend: Why should that be? I think our Islam has flourished from our own soil.
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Milon: No matter how much we argue, the truth is that nothing is purely indigenous.
Everything is mixed up.
Conversation between the student Milon and the mystic boatman Karim Majhi
Milon: …There’s only one way left open to us — to fight for freedom.
Karim Majhi: Politics is just another game, isn’t it Milon bhai? There’s nothing in it for people
like us. If people only understood what true freedom is...
Milon: Karim bhai, what are you talking about? It’s because of blindly religious people like you
that the country is in such a mess.
Karim Majhi: What do you mean by blindly religious? Actually, Milon Bhai, no true religion —
be it Hinduism, Islam or Christianity — will ever make people blind. True religion opens
people’s eyes.
Shahidul Islam Khokon, president of the Bangladesh Film Directors’ Assn., announced
Tuesday that “Matir Moina” (“The Clay Bird”) has been entered in the race for foreign language
film nominations, becoming the first Bengali - language film to be submitted for the Academy
Awards.
A censored version of the pic preemed in the Bangladeshi capital, Dhaka, two weeks ago after
finally being cleared by government censors, who had initially banned it on grounds it could
“hurt the religious sentiment of one section of society.”
Pic, which portrays life in an Islamic madrasa, or religious school, won the director’s award at
the Cannes Film Festival and screenplay kudos at the Marrakech Film Festival in Morocco.
“The Clay Bird” is directed by Tareque Masud and produced by his wife Catherine Masud.
“Quietly superb filmmaking … a valuable and independent engagement with Muslim history,
a nuanced riposte to both religious dogmatism and Western Islamophobia. It is one of the
films of the year.” — Peter Bradshaw, The Guardian (UK)
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universal resonance as it echoes other secular and political conflicts throughout the world.”
David Rooney — Variety
“A hymn to tolerance, against all religious and political dogmatisms, this autobiographical
first film, presented at the opening of the Directors’ Fortnight, is a symphony of color and
music. A must see.” — Agence France Presse
“The plot is timely, as critics around the world denounce madrasas as the breeding grounds
for Afghanistan’s hard-line Taliban regime and Pakistani extremists.” — ABC News (Australia)
Set in Bangladesh in the 1960s, The Clay Bird, showing tonight and tomorrow at noon,
questions the nature of dedication to Islam. It doesn’t attack fealty, but eventually rebukes
zealotry by showing a boy’s reaction to his father’s recent total immersion.
Anu (Nurul Islam Bablu) is sent off to a religious school by his father, Kazi (Jayanto
Chattopadhyay). Kazi — who once “dressed as an Englishman,” one of his friends says —
doesn’t want his son tainted by the outside world. His obedient though doubtful wife, Ayesha
(Rokeya Prachy), quietly expresses through frowns her concern about Kazi’s close-minded
new seriousness. She gently reasons with her boy, and the bright Anu resigns himself to his
new life.
At the school, despite the rigorous discipline meted out by the teachers, there’s the
cliquishness and hierarchical behavior found among any group of young people. The boys
initially ostracize the new kid but eventually accept him.
Anu gravitates toward the one boy who will never be accepted: the oddball Rokon (Russell
Farazi). Rokon can’t suppress his enthusiasms, and he hasn’t learned how to play up to the
teachers by pretending to go along with the program, as the other boys have; they’ve already
picked up the duplicity that adults often mistake for maturity. (They have to conceal much of
themselves, since they’re allowed to play only when practicing martial arts.)
The loss of innocence is only one of the motifs here. Anu’s sister becomes sick and suffers
even more when Kazi refuses to let his wife give her antibiotics. He’s wedded to homeopathy
and prayer as treatment.
Rokon is constantly rebuked by almost everyone. At one point, he’s punished by a teacher for
using his left hand to write; it’s thought to be disrespectful. But Rokon keeps to his ways; his
naturalness represents sacrifice, the biggest casualty of zealotry. He loves his imaginary
friends and runs off to hiding places where he snacks on desserts that he claims to have
received from a nonexistent playmate.
The school does have one teacher not bound to rigid ideology: Ibrahim, who recognizes
Anu’s decency and takes as much interest in Rokon’s well being as he can under the
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circumstances. But it’s hard when Rokon is plagued by a buzzing in his ears, occurring at the
worst times, as when one of the instructors delivers a grim sermon on the conviction needed
for Islam.
Masud’s sensitivity gives the film a pungent emotional clarity; he recognizes that naïveté isn’t
a province only of childhood. Kazi’s a naïf, too, and learns the hard way that following a path
without independent thought is a fool’s errand. He’s ultimately devastated when he learns of
the civil war and Muslims attacking other Muslims: the revolution is coming and it claims
Kazi’s way of life. His brother, the bespectacled, curious Milon, can smell change in the winds
and waxes rhapsodic about it. (He slips the medicine for Anu’s sister to Ayesha and scolds Kazi
for his “Hindu nonsense.”)
The Clay Bird is not without a sense of humor. Milon has his strongly held beliefs, too; he’s
devoted to Communism and its ideals. Such a need connects these men as brothers, and it’s
gently mocked: “Kazi’s homeopathy and your Marx party, both came from Germany,” one of
Milon’s pals says. It’s also evident that Masud loves all his characters, even the small-minded
ones — the sign of a real director. It’s no small achievement to make a picture that extols the
necessity for clear, free thought while dramatizing the barriers that challenge such a capacity.
WITH: Nurul Islam Bablu (Anu), Russell Farazi (Rokon), Jayanto Chattopadhyay (Kazi) and
Rokeya Prachy (Ayesha).
As good fortune would have it, Monica Ali’s novel Brick Lane, speaking so eloquently of the
Bangladeshi experience in Britain, arrives at the same time as an outstanding new movie
about Bangladesh itself.
This is a first feature from documentarist Tareque Masud, autobiographical, but refreshingly
without egotism or conceit. It’s a vision of childhood with its own beguiling simplicity and
gentleness, alternating an intense family chamber drama with breathtaking crowd scenes and
giant setpieces. It is quietly superb film-making, and Masud makes it look as easy as
breathing. The affecting story he has to tell is positioned alongside both the political trauma
of Bangladesh’s emergence as an independent state from the wreckage of East Pakistan and,
perhaps most remarkably, a critique of Islam, offered without rancor or sensation, but enough
to get the movie banned until relatively recently in Bangladesh.
Kazi (Jayanto Chattopadhyay) is a doctor in a remote East Pakistan village in the late 1960s. In
middle age, he has abandoned the worldly, westernized ways of his youth and embraced the
severities of Islam, becoming fiercer and more distant with his wife Ayesha (Rokeya Prachy),
19
his young son Anu (Nurul Islam Bablu) and ailing little daughter Asma (Lameessa Reemjheem)
whose worrying illnesses he treats not with the medicines and clinical practices imported
from the non-Muslim world but with only homeopathy - a stubbornness for which he is to pay
dearly.
What enrages Kazi more and more is the subversive existence of his younger brother Milon
(Soaeb Islam), a liberal intellectual figure forever campaigning with his excitable friends
against the military’s suppression of democracy. He is also a genial uncle to Anu, taking him
for high-spirited little excursions to see the local Hindu festivals, high days and holidays,
filmed with terrific intimacy but without ethnographic condescension. The boy is bewitched
by their sheer, sensuous enjoyment of life - something that’s in short supply at home.
So with cold ruthlessness, Kazi removes Anu from the influences he fears are poisoning his
mind, and sends him away to the madrasa, a strict Islamic school and ideological boot camp
combined. Poor Anu finds himself deeply lonely and scared, like many a new pupil at any
boarding school in the world; Masud shows a sure and humane touch by having Anu find a
kindred spirit in another boy, Rokon (Russell Farazi), with whom he plays melancholy fantasy
games. This is someone else who is unable to fit in, because he suffers from tints, tormented
by sounds inside his head - leading to an awe-inspiring exorcism scene.
On his brief holidays home, Anu finds his village fraught with tension and anxiety at the
coming violence, though his father assures family and neighbors that Muslim soldiers would
never dream of using force on their civilian co-religionists. Anu brings back a poignant little
present for his sister: a blue painted clay bird which he warns her to keep hidden from their
father. The bird’s existence is echoed in the songs performed by the musicians and
troubadours: songs about the its spirit of flight and a yearning for freedom, imprisoned in its
clay shell - these resonate in the life not just of Kazi’s fragile daughter but also of his wife.
But it is in the madrasa, not at home, that Anu hears a compelling dissentient voice. A kindly
teacher argues with his colleagues about the importance of the Sufis: figures who used the
inspiring example of peace, and not arms or politics, to spread Islamic knowledge.
As a sceptical assessment of Islam’s secular authority, The Clay Bird is at the very opposite end
of the spectrum from, say, the macho and hostile spleen of Michel Houellebecq. The film
offers a valuable and independent engagement with Muslim history, quite different from the
ugly fight-to-the-finish promoted elsewhere in the media, and constitutes a nuanced riposte
both to the dogmatic verities of religion and also to a species of Islamophobia that assumes
the Muslim world to be crudely monolithic.
All this is encased in a powerfully accessible piece of storytelling: a classic tale for children and
adults alike. Masud’s film-making moves with such an easy swing and canny feel for narrative,
contriving a down-to-earth, unassuming cinematic vernacular for narrating the adventures of
childhood and the awful choices of adulthood.
It has been many decades since south-Asian arthouse cinema has been fashionable; now it’s
the movies from Iran, Latin America and the Far East that get talked about, and Satyajit Ray’s
work doesn’t dominate the Top 10 lists the way it used to. Maybe The Clay Bird will reverse
that — inspired, as it clearly and unapologetically is, by Ray. And it’s not going too far to say
that it has much of the ease, the visual rapture and sheer unforced naturalness of Ray’s great
picture Pather Panchali.
The Clay Bird has marvelous humor and flair, and compassion for children’s sadness and their
resilience in the face of life’s trials. It is one of the films of the year.
20
Variety, May 18, 2002
The Clay Bird (Matir Moina)
By David Rooney
Documaker Tareque Masud makes a confident transition to narrative drama with “The Clay
Bird.” The filmmaker returns to his childhood in the politically turbulent period before East
Pakistan gained independence and became Bangladesh. This accomplished, emotionally
involving film—an intimately observed story of divisions within a family that reflect the wider
clash between moderate and extremist views—will have universal resonance as it echoes
other secular and political conflicts throughout the world. Its wealth of cultural and folkloric
detail also should help secure festival interest as well as modest exposure on the arthouse
fringe. Joint opener of the Directors’ Fortnight marks the sidebar’s first-ever selection from
Bangladesh.
Action takes place in the late 1960s as a democratic movement gained force in its bid to
overthrow military rule. The attempt succeeded in 1969 but the martial law government that
followed disregarded the subsequent democratic election results. This led to a violent civil
war that brought an estimated 3 million casualties among Bengali freedom fighters and
created almost 10 million refugees before independence was finally achieved in 1971.
Against this backdrop, stern orthodox Muslim Kazi (Jayanto Chattopadhyay) becomes
increasingly concerned about the influence of his free-thinking young brother on the former’s
preteen son Anu (Nurul Islam Bablu). Disturbed by the boy’s enthusiasm for the village Hindu
festivities, Kazi packs him off to a madrasa, or Islamic school, where he is trained in the
rigorous ways of monastic life. Miserable and lonely, Anu befriends underdog Rokon (Russell
Farazi), feeling a kinship with his outcast status.
When Anu’s younger sister takes ill and dies after homeopathic doctor Kazi refuses to have
her properly treated, the children’s grieving mother Ayesha (Rokeya Prachy) grows further
apart from her stubborn but confused husband, who has forced a life of traditional
confinement upon her.
The increasing divide between them parallels the political clash in the country and the
emergence of opposing views within the madrasa. Bittersweet final act takes place as the
Army descends on the village, with Ayesha’s decision for her own and her son’s future
transmitting a spirit of hope and independence.
Ideas such as the conflict between and Islamic beliefs and armed violence occasionally are
addressed in slightly didactic dialogue. But the script—written by the director and his
American wife Catherine Masud—deftly uses the family drama to mirror the nationwide
political ferment, outlining the historical context clearly and accessibly stating its case for
tolerance with subtle eloquence. Music also is used resourcefully for the central themes, via
Bengali oratorical duets and other songs performed in village concerts.
The drama builds a gentle, fluid rhythm, shifting between family’s home life and Anu’s time in
the madrasa while keeping the political picture in focus through street protests and radio
broadcasts.
Pic is handsomely shot in soft natural light and warm interiors with a leisurely, graceful
camera style.
21
Showing a strong personal connection to the material, director Masud coaxes lovely, natural
performances from the inexperienced child cast as well as poignant work from the adult
leads.
“The making of Matir Moina was not only a return to my own childhood, but also a journey
into the deep heart of my own country and my own soul,” Masud said.
“I didn’t have to invent a story as almost every event and character are actual,” he said.
In the film, the boy is torn between a madrasa teacher who believes in political action and a
moderate instructor who feels students should not be used for ideological ends. The plot is
timely, as critics around the world denounce madrasas as the breeding grounds for
Afghanistan’s hard-line Taliban regime and Pakistani extremists. But in Matir Moina Masud
does not take a confrontational tone but instead tries to present a sympathetic picture of life
at an Islamic school.
“It had been a long dream to share this experience with my fellow countrymen, many of
whom like Western people, are completely ignorant and misinformed about madrasas,”
Masud said. “When you see something from afar it has a very flat and simple appearance, but
when you see it from a closer perspective you perceive its complexity and diversity, beyond
stereotypical impressions” he said.
For Masud, the 1971 war, in which the Bangladeshi government says three million people
were killed by Pakistani forces, ended in liberation in more ways than one. “My father…
emerged as a transformed man after the nine-month war, having seen the atrocities carried
out by his fellow Muslims and the genocide carried out in the name of Islam,” he said.
Masud says the lessons of the war bore heavily on modern Bangladesh, where Islamists came
to power last year as part of the ruling coalition and human rights groups have reported
attacks on the Hindu minority community. “Being victims of the war ourselves, we have
learned the hard way what kind of violence and genocide can be committed in the name of
religion.
“I don’t think Bangladesh is potentially vulnerable to any extremism, not only due to the fact
that the state is founded on secularist principles, but also because of the great syncretic and
mystic tradition among the population. “What many other countries are learning today
though bloody strife and conflict, Bangladeshis learned that 32 years ago,” he said.
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Masud, 45, came to the limelight with two short films about the independence war, Mukti
Gaan and Muktir Kotha, which like Matir Moina, he produced and edited with his American
wife, Catherine.
“I feel more than honoured that our film is selected as the opening film of the Directors’
Fortnight of Cannes 2002. It is not only a great moment in my film-making career but also a
good opportunity to project a different image of Bangladesh,” he said.
Masud says increasingly accessible technology was making work easier for Bangladesh’s
independent filmmakers. With his wife, he runs a Dhaka production company called
Audiovision. They have introduced computer-based film editing and digital sound dubbing
and mixing.
“I hope that the film’s selection will also inspire my fellow film-makers, particularly the
younger generation, to strive for a better cinema and to try to bring our vision of our rich
culture and heritage to the rest of the world,” he said.
This decision comes as a great surprise to those who have seen the film. The nation’s leading
newspaper Daily Star called it a “sensitive portrayal of a multi-cultural and multi-religious
Bangladesh.” The film is set against the historical backdrop of Bangladesh’s 1971 liberation
war in which 3 million people were killed by the Pakistan army. The lead character is a
madrasa (Islamic religious school) student and is based on the personal experiences of the
director Tareque Masud. Mr. Masud is a former madrasa student and said in a newspaper
interview, “I made the movie as a fellow Muslim and wanted to inform people about the life in
a madrasa that has both strict and liberal teachers… As a former madrasa student, I have
portrayed not only the religious tolerance and broadmindedness of Bangladeshi society but
also a positive, credible and objective picture of the country against the negative propaganda
of western media about madrasas” (Daily Star).
Expressing surprise at the decision, the Daily Star newspaper wrote in an editorial: “Given that
the film depicts madrasa education in a very sensitive light and presents the socio-religious
contradictions in any society trying to adjust to the modern world, one is left wondering what
caused the ire of the censors. In fact the film takes a very sympathetic view of madrasa
education which contrasts radically with Western depiction of Muslim religious education in
such institutions.”
The FCB’s decision comes at a time when the film is receiving attention all over the world and
creating a positive image for Bangladesh. Matir Moina was selected as the opening film for the
prestigious Directors Fortnight section of the Cannes Film Festival. This is the first time a
Bangladeshi film has been included in this world-renowned festival. On May 16th, the film’s
premiere received a standing ovation at Cannes. Responding to public demand, the festival
organizers added three special screenings of the film.
23
On May 17th, the film was released in France nationwide by the French distributor MK2
(http://www.mk2.com/oiseau_argile/index.html). MK2 is an internationally renowned
distribution house and is responsible for bringing the Iranian films of Abbas Kiarostami to a
global audience. Variety, the leading newspaper of the US film industry, called Matir Moina an,
“accomplished, emotionally involving film—an intimately observed story of divisions within a
family that reflect the wider clash between moderate and extremist views.”
In an interview with the Daily Star, Tareque Masud said, “(it is) a good opportunity to project a
different image of Bangladesh. I hope that the film’s selection will also inspire my fellow film-
makers, particularly the younger generation, to strive for a better cinema and to try to bring
our vision of our rich culture and heritage to the rest of the world.”
Matir Moina provides a nuanced and subtle view of Islam, rather than the stereotypical Islam-
bashing of western media. We believe the FCB of Bangladesh has committed a grave error by
banning this film. This action will only give ammunition to those who portray Islamic culture
as rigid and unyielding. Rather than protecting religious sentiments, the ban will only stifle
open discussion and progressive change. We urge the FCB to reconsider their decision and
give the film the censorship clearance necessary for its domestic release in Bangladesh.
Sincerely,
In the 1950s and 1960s, with the emergence of such renowned Calcutta-based filmmakers as
Satyajit Ray, Ritwik Ghatak, and Mrinal Sen, there was a strong association of “Bengali” cinema
with films from Indian Bengal. But the growing influence of Bollywood in West Bengal
brought about a parallel decline of Calcutta art cinema. Bengali-language films are still
produced in West Bengal, but W. Bengal cinema halls frequently run Hindi language
Bollywood films. Today, films by Calcutta filmmakers are generally known abroad as “Indian”
films, a smaller subset of a diverse panorama defined more by national origin than by
language.
24
For more information on the history of cinema and the current film industry in Bangladesh:
http://www.bangladesh.net/cinema/
http://www.bangladeshshowbiz.com/filmcelrb.htm
http://www.latrobe.edu.au/screeningthepast/firstrelease/fr1100/rzfr11d.htm
http://213.93.55.248/pics/flags/BANGLADESH.CFM
Glossary
Bahas: Literally “debate” in Arabic. In Bangladesh, a typical bahas is a formal debate organized
in front of an audience between two Islamic clerics on various religious creeds and issues. But
bahas also has a wider meaning as a duet performance between rival mystic singers who
debate through song on a higher theosophical plane. Sometimes these improvised “song
25
duels” extend beyond religion and enter the domain of philosophical polemics. This is in
keeping with the more Sufistic tradition of the quest for truth through a process of
questioning.
Madrasa: Traditionally, a madrasa is a religious school, often located near a mosque, for
teaching Islamic theology and religious law. Most of the young madrasa boys come from very
poor families; others are orphans. By providing free food and lodging in addition to
education, madrasas provide a sanctuary for these children. However, the atmosphere is very
strict, and in the more orthodox madrasas, music, drawing and playing games that involve
implements or boundaries are forbidden. Insular and conservative, madrasas have become
more and more numerous in recent times in Bangladesh.
Shariah: Literally “a path to life-giving water” — Shariah is the body of rules and regulations
prescribed by Islam as divine law. These laws relate to all aspects of the life of a Muslim
including daily activities, worship, and criminal law. It is obligatory on every Muslim to respect
and follow the Shariah in every aspect of their life. It is also obligatory on Muslim nations to
implement the Shariah, and make it the source of all law and legislation. The codes and
doctrines of Shariah are often interpreted by Islamic authorities with reference to the Koran
and other holy Islamic texts.
Sufism: Sufism is Islamic mysticism. It exists in Sunni as well as Shiite Islam. Like all mysticism,
it is above all a searching for God and it can be expressed in very different ways. In its esoteric
aspects, it has secret practices and initiation rites, which can also vary depending on the
masters who teach it. Although Sufism claims to be rigorously Muslim, traditional Islam (both
Sunni and Shiite) remains extremely wary of it. The importance of this secret Islam is
remarkable. Historically, it has played a leading role in the rise of deviations from Shi’ism such
as Ismailism and the Druze religion. In literature, it has profoundly inspired some of the most
remarkable Arabo-Persian works such as The Thousand and One Nights or Nezami Ganjawi’s
love poem “Leyla and Majnoun.” Sufism gives Islam a poetic, mystical dimension. The prophet
Mohammed is said to have received, at the same time as the Koran, esoteric revelations that
he shared only with certain of his companions. Thus, the Sufi masters link their teachings with
a long chain of predecessors, which authenticate them.
Vaishnavism: A path of Hinduism in which Vishnu is worshiped as the Lord. Different sects
worship different incarnations of Vishnu, including Brahma, Buddha, Jain Tirthankaras, Rama
and Krishna.
Amy Heller and Dennis Doros started Milestone in 1990 to bring out the best films of
yesterday and today. The company has released such remarkable new films as Manoel de
Oliveira’s I’m Going Home, Bae Yong-kyun’s Why Has Bodhi-Dharma Left for the East?, Hirokazu
Kore-eda’s Maborosi, and Takeshi Kitano’s Fireworks (Hana-Bi), and now, Tareque and
Catherine Masud’s The Clay Bird.
26
Milestone’s re-releases have included restored versions of Luchino Visconti’s Rocco and His
Brothers, F.W. Murnau’s Tabu, Merian C. Cooper and Ernest B. Schoedsack’s Grass and Chang,
Henri-Georges Clouzot’s The Mystery of Picasso, and Marcel Ophuls’s The Sorrow and the Pity.
Milestone is also working with the Mary Pickford Foundation on a long-term project to
preserve, re-score and release the best films of the legendary silent screen star. In recent
years, Milestone has re-released beautifully restored versions of Frank Hurley’s South: Ernest
Shackleton and the Endurance Expedition, Kevin Brownlow’s It Happened Here and Winstanley,
Lotte Reiniger’s animation masterpiece, The Adventures of Prince Achmed, Michael Powell’s The
Edge of the World (a Martin Scorsese presentation), Jane Campion’s Two Friends, Gillo
Pontecorvo’s The Wide Blue Road (a Jonathan Demme and Dustin Hoffman presentation),
Conrad Rooks’ Siddhartha and Rolando Klein’s Chac. Milestone’s newest classic film, E.A.
Dupont’s Piccadilly — starring the bewitching Anna May Wong in one of her finest roles —
played at the 2003 New York Film Festival and is opening theatrically nationwide in 2004.
For 2004, Milestone will also be releasing The Big Animal, Jerzy Stuhr’s wonderful film parable
(based on a story by Krzysztof Kieslowski).
Milestone has fruitful collaborations with some of the world’s major archives, including the
British Film Institute, UCLA Film & Television Archive, George Eastman House, Museum of
Modern Art, Library of Congress, Nederlands Filmmuseum and the Norsk Filminstitut. In 2000
Milestone’s 10th Anniversary Retrospective was shown in venues nationwide and Milestone
donated revenues from these screenings to four major archives in the United States and
England to help restore films that might otherwise be lost.
In 2003, Milestone released an important series of great silent restorations including the
horror classic The Phantom of the Opera; an early neorealist adaptation of Emile Zola’s La Terre;
and an historical epic of Polish independence, The Chess Player. Other video highlights for the
year included Roscoe “Fatty” Arbuckle and Buster Keaton’s The Cook & Other Treasures, and
three incredible animation releases: Cut-Up: The Films of Grant Munro; Norman McLaren: The
Collector’s Edition; and Winsor McCay: The Master Edition.
In 1995 Milestone received a Special Archival Award from the National Society of Film Critics
for its restoration and release of I am Cuba. Eight of the company’s films — Charles Burnett’s
Killer of Sheep (to be released in 2004), F.W. Murnau’s Tabu, Edward S. Curtis’s In the Land of the
War Canoes, Mary Pickford’s Poor Little Rich Girl, Lon Chaney’s The Phantom of the Opera, Clara
Bow’s It, Winsor McCay’s Gertie the Dinosaur, and Merian C. Cooper, Ernest B. Schoedsack and
Marguerite Harrison’s Grass — are listed on the Library of Congress’s National Film Registry.
On January 2, 2004, the National Society of Film Critics awarded Milestone Film & Video their
prestigious Film Heritage award for “its theatrical and DVD presentations of Michael Powell's
The Edge of the World, E.A. Dupont's Piccadilly, André Antoine's La Terre, Rupert Julian’s
Phantom of the Opera and Mad Love: The Films of Evgeni Bauer.”
Cindi Rowell, director of acquisitions, has been with Milestone since 1999. In 2003 Nadja
Tennstedt joined the company as director of international sales.
“Since its birth the Milestone Film & Video Co. has steadily become the industry’s
foremost boutique distributor of classic and art films — and probably the only
distributor in America whose name is actually a guarantee of some quality.”
— William Arnold, Seattle Post-Intelligencer
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“Milestone Film & Video is an art-film distributor that has released some of the most distinguished
new movies (along with seldom-seen vintage movie classics) of the past decade”
— Stephen Holden, New York Times
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