Half Moon

Strand Releasing

Part Kurdish elegy and part oddball road movie, this surprising drama blends the blackest of humor with magical realism to create a wistful look at the Middle East. The story seems simple enough: after the fall of Saddam Hussein, an exiled musician returns to Iraq to perform in a concert. But getting from point A to point B isn't so easy when it involves crossing the border between Iran and Iraq with a passel of musicians minus visas, not to mention some contraband human cargo: although female singers are banned in Iran, the maestro plans to include a woman with a heavenly voice in his return concert, even if she has to hide in the luggage compartment of the band's tour bus. The troubles the group encounter along the way reach mythical proportions, but they are balanced by moments of great beauty: the music of course, the landscape and a startling detour into a village populated entirely by banished female singers. The harsh realities of war, and the repression of the Kurds, can always be sensed in the background, but with its focus on art and family, Half Moon is more a meditation on the vagaries of fate than an outcry of anger or mourning. Even the film's biggest flourish - the arrival of a woman, seemingly fallen from the sky, who promises to lead the band to its destination - doesn't quite pan out as hoped. And yet, hope can't entirely be squashed. In a world where such miraculous and cruel things can happen, perhaps it's enough to enjoy the trip.