Majid Majidi’s “The Colour of Paradise” opens, fittingly enough, with the sound of an arabic prayer being chanted against a completely black screen. That ancient practice of silent contemplation with arms folded and eyes closed shares common ground with the plight of the story’s blind protagonist. “You are both seen and unseen”, the voice proclaims, even as we are placed into Mohammed’s shoes. The rest of the film intermittently keeps taking us back to this dark, empty void; Mohammed’s being is plagued by a crippling loneliness that also proves to be a source of great depth and understanding for him. We see this intuitive profundity of his translated through calming, hypnotic visuals, paired with a rich soundscape.
Mohammed’s narrative is littered with natural sounds and patterns that help him establish a relation with and understand the world around him. This is held in strong contrast against, say, a drab classroom lecture concerning nature, where the only sound audible is the mundane click-clicking of needle on paper. It is seen here that the use of colour is heavily underplayed; the panels look somewhat desaturated and are filled mainly with hues that are harmonic with nature and the environment. Instead, it is sound that guides and holds the viewer’s attention. Some of the characters even have well-defined leitmotifs - Mohammed’s father, for instance. At times, events are portrayed or foreshadowed through the use of sound. Interestingly, there are only three instances of non-diegetic music playing in the film,and all of them concern moments that hold high emotional significance for the characters.
One of the first instances of prominent sound usages in the film is the scene in which Mohammed is waiting for his father in the deserted driveway of his school. After a long time, a strong longing for home starts settling in, signified by the disturbing absence of children’s voices in the school. Then, just as his homesickness is taking over, Mohammed hears a cat in the adjoining wilderness. He shoos it away, and scurries into the trees to rescue a baby sparrow that lies helpless on the ground. This is where the audience is first exposed to Mohammed’s immense sensitivity and intelligence. He climbs a tree, returns the barely visible sparrow safely to its mother, and listens in contentment as the reunited family cackles on in joy. This experience proves to be quite cathartic for little Mohammed. The sounds that he hears then are referenced several times throughout the movie. In particular, we hear the singing of the sparrows drown out the mundane music at the pawn shop, even as his father makes a deal with the broker over his son’s head.
The absence of sight makes Mohammed’s other senses come alive. He makes use of sound and touch to feel his way through the world and make sense of it. He feels the grass and the flowers, he runs his finger over the crops in the field, listens intently to the diligent woodpecker, and tries to decode individual grains of sand on the beach. Futile as his efforts may seem, we nevertheless relate to his struggle of trying to find meaning in a universe that appears to be evolving towards an increasingly chaotic state of suffering and madness. Perhaps Mohammed senses this despair as the movie progresses; perhaps his perception of human nature is as keen. as astute as that of the physical environment. This is made evident through a somewhat redundant outpour of emotion in which Mohammed shares his frustration with his blind teacher.
An equally fascinating aspect of the film’s versatile soundscape is the way it shapes the overall narrative structure. “The Colour of Paradise” may as well be seen as the story of a father who goes blind to what is truly essential in life, almost gets consumed on account of his wounded ego and, through a redemptive streak at the end, finally regains sight. This would not be an entirely unsubstantial interpretation, since after multiple viewings, it is clear that the sounds that characterize the father’s world are significantly different from those that define the son’s. The chirping of birds and insects is much less prevalent. It is an eerie, almost malevolent silence that mainly dominates here. Indeed, on four separate occasions, the father’s suppressed conscience tries to rear its head into his view through a series of wild, desperate and bloodcurdling cries of an unseen creature. They are consistently ignored, until finally, disaster strikes. Mohammed is swept away by an overflowing river. The father goes numb with fear, and the only sounds we hear are his desperate screams, barely audible over the deafening sound of the water. The following couple of minutes are a hard watch, with the father swimming wildly downstream, searching in vain for his son. At long last, we cut abruptly to a beach that the father has been washed onto. Silence has superseded the agonizing roar of the river. The piercing cry of seagulls becomes audible gradually as the father regains consciousness and lumbers over to Mohammed lying a few meters away. The family has incurred a lot of loss, but stands united now, and much the wiser.
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