If (like myself) you have not seen the first film, also titled Love City, not to worry. Gittoes essentially shotguns the gist of it into the first five minutes of Talk Show. Basically, it is Romeo & Juliet with a happy ending. A young filmmaker falls in love with Jasmin, the daughter of a former mujahedin who happens to own Love City, a Jalalabad wedding hall, but he opposes their love match. Eventually, true love wins out, but this is the exception rather than the rule in Afghanistan.
In the second film, Talk Show, the focus shifts to Jasmin’s older sister Asma, who is studying in Peshawar with her Afghan-American friend Ghuty. Unfortunately, they are kidnapped by Taliban terrorists while returning home from the wedding. Enlisting the help of Karim, a reputedly mobbed up restaurateur, her father orchestrates their rescue. Unfortunately, Asma falls for Karim in the process, forgetting about cousin Ikram, who has long carried a torch for her. Of course, getting involved with the wrong sort of man is exponentially worse in Afghanistan. However, Asma is not without her own resources. As the host of a groundbreaking issue-oriented talk show, she has a forum to challenge the caddish and corrupt Karim.
With Tailor’s Story, Ghuty takes her turn in the spotlight. Also a media trailblazer, she hosts a radio call in show devoted to love stories and song dedications. When two star-crossed lovers use her show to tell their tragic tale, her ratings take-off. Their story takes on additional significance for her, as she pursues love with Zaki, a fixer working with the American military, against her parents’ wishes.
The better written of the second two films, Tailor deliberately evokes Scheherazade with its serialized tale of forlorn love. It also ties together the various characters’ backstories rather neatly and convincingly. On the other hand, just like the previous films of the series, it also has unusually long musical interludes that largely involve a romantic couple spinning round and round in a field to the sounds of syrupy sweet Pashto love songs.
Frankly, it is not fair to judge the Love City films on the same criteria applied to western films, made under peaceful circumstances with a ready infrastructure available to support independent filmmaking. The fact that they even exist is significant. Yet, the sometimes contradictory commentary they provide on Afghan society is genuinely fascinating. Sometimes the films are rather forthright criticizing the Taliban, whereas at other times they appear to hold back, but they are rather consistent in their disdain for the burqa.
Not surprisingly, the talent of the ensemble varies widely. Given the themes discussed, one wonders if it is even prudent to single any out for praise in a western source. The bottom line is there are several charismatic cast members who manage to pull the audience into their characters’ lives, despite the ragged edges of some of their costars’ work.
