At a film history class in the University of California, Los Angeles - Film Department, the theory was that if a film does not attract you in the first twenty minutes then chances are that it won’t to the very end.

I remember when I received a copy of No One knows about Persian Cats -- directed by {Bahman Ghobadi} -- the DVD was gathering dust ‘till one night I decided to watch it. I tolerated the film for the first half an hour, then turned it off and went about my business. “Yet another weak film that lacks character,” I mumbled to myself.

A few weeks later at a friend’s house, the BBC Persian Channel was showing Ghobadi’s film and so we watched it from the mid point on.

I am happy to have actually seen the film because I can now share my thoughts on it, though I was very disappointed when the film ended with weakly designed ending credits.

I have to point out one thing before I start and that is the commercialized quality of the film. The director did not let any kind of sympathy get in his way and did not stay loyal to the topic. A documentary film has the obligation to show the reality of its special topic than to sacrifice it and let it fade beneath the surface. This documentary-fiction is similar in some ways to some of documentaries made in the style of “Reality TV” shows. Through its parallel, compound, abnormal structure it aims at attracting more audiences. No One Knows About the Persian Cats is more comparable to Reality TV than a documentary-fiction and there is nothing wrong with seeing Ghobadi’s film through such angle.

At the beginning of the film, Bahman Ghobadi gives a brief introduction and this is how it goes, “Respectful greetings to my fellow citizens. I am Bahman Ghobadi… it’s a great honor that you are watching this film without paying any money, its legit and try to distribute it as much as you can”. It would have been fair for someone like Ghobadi who honors himself as an Iranian to have presented this film to all the Iranians instead.

It is better to say that I do not hold anything against this film being made. I also have nothing against Ghobadi himself, because if I want to interfere with an artist’s private space and to explore his or her moralities I would be drawn away from the actual work. Occasionally, getting to know an artist well enough might effect and harm the impression that one gets by his or her work. There are no doubts that the artist’s sensational experiences and living conditions affect his or her work. But then artists do not swear to be infallible, nor does anyone expect their works to be flawless.

No One Knows… focuses on underground music bands in Iran. Let’s not forget that O-Hum, 127 and {Mohsen Namjoo} were once part of this scene. I should also add that when a person (based on his or her talents and interests) is drawn to this kind of illicit music, s/he must be aware of its consequences. Therefore, I do not believe that by making this film Ghobadi has damaged the reputation of underground musicians in Iran, unless some had thought that by appearing in his film, they would become over night wonders. Underground music is about freedom of creative expression and appreciation of artistic creativity. It is also pretty clear by now that the Islamic Republic of Iran is incurious towards such musicians and prefers if they stayed in their basements. Otherwise, there would not exist the many music stores in the streets of JOMHOURI and BAHARESTAN in Tehran that sell variety of music instruments including electronic guitars. Inversely, on those very same streets, one is hard put finding copies of Iranian underground bands, though their pop counterparts and other genres of illegal music can easily be bought.

To analyze the film itself there are two issues I would prefer to point out; one is the presence of {Hamed Behdad} in a dominant role. It is clear why Ghobadi used the popular actor, but the audience is constantly looking for his appearance in the next shot of No One Know... Despite the powerful storyline and subject matter, Behdad’s hubble-bubble presence distances them from the actual subject matter of the film and involves them with a zesty dealer. Had Ghobadi picked another face for this role he could have focused on the main storyline: underground music and trafficking in illegalities.

In another scene a dog is kidnapped from the car and even though his owner, NEGAR, is with a companion, they do not jump out of the car to follow the kidnapper, they continue along. It is either that Bahman Ghobadi has not discovered his own signature as a filmmaker or that he is concerned about experimenting with other filmmakers’ methods to prove that it is not that difficult after all.

Let's take a moment to recall Abbas Kiarostami’s Ten and observe that by placing a fixed camera at a certain spot he manages to add to the reality-like feel of the incidents happening within the frame; how he manipulates his actors and ultimately makes his audience believe the staged documentary.

Not only has Ghobadi not appreciated this specific style but he has also got it technically wrong. Not mentioning the poor performance he got out of his actors by having them sit in the car while the robber is running away with their dog, this scene is surreal in its absurdity. Sadly the director has not respected the line separating documentaries from features -- his film is neither and both at the same time.

One more thing before I wrap up. I know about Persian cats. They are all over this chaotic, polluted city of ours and one thing that makes living in Tehran easier for me. Persian cats go about life each and every day of the year.