Sorry, this movie sucks

A different way of telling a story

This film is so real. It treats its characters with so much care and sensitivity.

A great movie, one of the best of this year. There was a bit of confusion at one point in the plot, but nothing serious.

n fact the most disquieting aspect of the film is that it was shot between 2003 and 2005, meaning that, however bad daily life seemed then, things have grown far worse since the camera was switched off. Director James Longley would no doubt concur but, cleverly, he never makes his own views explicit, preferring to let the images speak for themselves.And speak they do, whether it's the first section of the film in which 11-year-old Sunni boy Mohammed is forced to choose between work and education or, better still, a up-close look at the Shiite political/religious group run by Moqtada al-Sadr.The third strain of the film retreats from the extremes of the first two parts – by way of emphasising that these are ordinary folk unfortunate enough to live in extraordinary times – and focuses on rural Kurdish families and, in particular, fathers and sons.Throughout, it's shot so brilliantly that it feels less like a documentary than a superior drama. Best of all, though, is Longley's compassionate depiction of people to whom, crucially, we can all relate.

Let me just say right from the start that I came to this film not expecting much. I saw some other Iraq films like Gunner Palace and wasn't too impressed, but this one is totally new. First of all, the whole thing takes place from the POV of Iraqis - and I mean *really* from their POV - like almost looking out of their eyes. I have never seen a documentary that gets this close to its characters, both physically and emotionally, but where the camera stays invisible the entire time.This in itself feels like an innovation when you're watching the film, but beyond that there is the kinetic editing and the absolutely gorgeous photography. So what you get is a film of substance that not only shows you a reality we never get shown on TV, but a documentary that feels like a true step forward in style. Documentary film makers are going to be playing catch up now that films like this one are out there.

This documentary does what no other film I've seen has been able to accomplish: It shows the world of real Iraqis on the ground. In breathtaking photography we are guided through three different "fragments" of life in Iraq, in Baghdad, the south and the north of the country. What emerges is a portrait of beauty and complexity, revealing aspects of Iraq and the effects of war and occupation that we never see in this country. But the film is not overtly political, and is difficult to pin down. Instead of being an opinionated political essay like the work of Michael Moore, IRAQ IN FRAGMENTS sticks to the idea of showing the situation without adding political commentary and opinions from the filmmaker. We never hear director James Longley's voice in the film, but we see the world of Iraq through his perceptive camera work and patient skills as a documentarian. This film is truly unique, a work of stunning cinematic quality, both current and timeless in its themes.

Longley's visually beautiful and emotionally saddening film in three parts, shot during two years spent in Iraq between the immediate aftermath of the invasion in 2003 and 2005, arouses tremendous hopes but ends by quite dashing them. Longley is great with a camera and patient with children and his documentary is full of lovely, yellow-filtered images. But the project to describe post-invasion Iraq is both over-ambitious and reductive. Longley wants to cover what he thinks are the three main divisions of the country -- Sunni, Shiite, and Kurd. But he tries to do this by reducing his focus to children and old people, speeches, and a few scenes of public violence, and the result feels empty.Most memorable, because most integrated and most eloquently narrated (by the wispy, childish voice of the boy himself), is the first segment about eleven-year-old fatherless Mohammad (his father disappeared after speaking up about Saddam at some time in the past), who lives and works in the Sheikh Omar district of Baghdad. The camera is close up on Mohammad's sweet, expressive young face; or his voice-over declares, "Baghdad used to be beautiful" over shots of the city before the invasion (Longley made a short visit in 2002) and then, "the world is so scary now" as we watch big brown helicopters sputter threateningly overhead.We never see Mohammad at home, but Longley hung out at the little auto repair shop where Mohammad was working long enough to fade into the tool racks and, astonishingly, to film uninterrupted Mohammad's encounters with his sometimes affectionate but more often abusive boss -- who smacks him and calls him a son of a whore for playing marbles with other boys; for not knowing how to spell his father's name; and finally for even spending time at school, which he is forced to give up to keep the job.The boss also speechifies a bit about the occupation, which he considers far inferior to the days of Saddam: we can't help seeing this fat bully as a little Saddam lingering on in the Sheikh Omar district. Other voices are cut in throughout the segment with Baghdadis, presumably Sunnis (since that's meant to be the focus of this section), declaring the same things: the Americans just came to set up a military base, they're here for the oil (Mohammad says that too), they have not brought democracy, it's even worse now than under Saddam, everything they say is a lie.Desperate for a father, Mohammad murmurs repeatedly that his boss loves him but in the end admits he has to escape the abuse. The rationalizing over, he leaves to work at his uncle's larger shop. He may still have his dreams of becoming a pilot and flying to more beautiful countries. Earlier, we watched him at school looking bright and eager as the teacher drilled the children on the words "dar" (house) and "dur" (houses) and how to use them.Did Mohammad get to go back to school and learn how to write "Haithem" (his father's name)? We don't know, nor do we see his new workplace, or hear from relatives. Why did Longley focus so much time and attention on this boy? There's something heartrending about his little story, but he can't be seen as the future of the country. Alas, he has little future. This picture of Baghdad is vivid, but incomplete.Parts two and three focus on Moqtada Sadr, Najf, and the movement to empower the Shiite majority and bring religious rule to the country; and on a sheep-herding and brick-making family in Kurdistan. Longley and his interpreter Nadeem gain access to the Moqtada camp through one of his men, thirty-two-year-old Sheikh Aws al-Kafaji, who let them film his activities, strategy meetings, rallies, marches, speeches, religious ceremonies, and an alcohol raid on the local market. There's even footage of a hospital, with a wounded man on a stretcher yelling, "Is this democracy?" "Amrika 'adu Allah," someone declares -- America is the enemy of God. Most noteworthy is footage of Sadr's men (or Kafaji's?) roughing up random people in the market suspected of selling booze and of encounters of Sadr's men with Spanish troops around the Imam Ali Shrine. The rest is a chaos of images, vivid and intense enough, but -- despite clear translations in subtitles of all the speechifying and excerpts from committee meetings -- without any sense of what it all may mean. No doubt about the fact that a lot of this material was dangerous to shoot, and again, Longley's camera-work is superior; this section will serve as excellent stock footage for future historical documentaries of the period.Things became so dangerous that by September 2004, Longley decided to go north -- Koretan, south of Erbil, a small community of farms and brick ovens. From here on, no more Arabic is spoken, only the Kurdish language. After all the tumult of the Shiite uprising, Longley reverts to a smaller canvas, again focusing on boys, two close friends this time, so intimate they walk hand in hand to school, and their fathers. Mostly we see one of the boys, "Sulei" (Suleiman), an unsmiling youth with a chiseled face who wants to be a doctor, and his aging, bespectacled, chain-smoking father, a shepherd. Sulei talks about struggling to study his hardest to go into medicine, but again, the demands of supporting his aging dad and working both at baking bricks and tending sheep force Sulei to drop out of school -- even sadder than the case of Mohammad in Baghdad, because Sulei had a real desire to be somebody. The picture is the opposite here. Someone mentions Saddam's massacre of Kurds in the Eighties and moving in of Arabs, and the old man says, "God brought America to the Kurds." Quite a contrast to "America is the enemy of God." But again, a lonely boy without a future is no picture of the Kurds.