We at Barang Films recently had a screening of the 2009 documentary, Fixer: The Taking of Ajmal Naqshbandi, a feature-length documentary that follows the relationship between Afghan interpreter, Ajmal Naqshbandi and his client, American journalist Christian Parenti.
I had been aware of Director Ian Olds’ work since @ 2005, when he released his feature-length documentary, Occupation: Dreamland, a film which really put Olds on the proverbial doc map, but I’d yet to see Fixer until the other night.
I was naturally drawn to the subject matter for a number of reasons. I’m always a fan of films that delve into the work, both actual and subconscious, of war journalists. Some of my biggest influences have been fictional characters and real people who photograph and otherwise document the complexities of war. Henri-Cartier Bresson, Edward R. Murrow, Neil Davis, James Nachtwey, and Christopher Koch’s war photog, Mike Langford, to name a handful.
But behind all of these men and their work was someone, who until now, always seemed to remain unheralded and under appreciated. But without these persons- known affectionately as fixers, for their abilities to set up clandestine meetings with hard-to-reach subjects in hard-to-reach locales- much of the important work never would have happened.
I’ve managed to work with a few of the finest fixers in the biz, in places like Cambodia (bong, Phon Kaseka!) and Nepal (ramro dai, Thapa Raj Kumar!). I will forever be indebted not only to their undying and uncanny dedication to their work, but for their constant companionship, sometimes in times of extreme duress (and oftimes, to the detriment of their own family). One can never underestimate the power of a smiling face or words of reassurance during those tense moments when it becomes abundantly clear that you are far less important than you could have possibly imagined, and far more alone than you could have ever hoped and/or that your only chance for a story (not to mention survival) depended upon this one person; this one person who would never receive the due recognition that they so rightfully deserved.
Until now. Until The Fixer.
It is The Nation reporter, American Christian Parenti and Afghan fixer, Ajmal Naqshbandi who are at the center of this film. Some might remember of a couple of years ago when an Italian reporter and Afghan fixer were abducted by members of the Taliban. An intense number of days ensued, whereby the Italian government pressured the Afghans to make an exchange with the Taliban group, for the release of the reporter and fixer. The reporter and fixer were freed, and the country of Italy rejoiced. Unfortunately, and totally unpublicized was the fact that the Afghan fixer (Naqshbandi) was again abducted within hours and once again held for ransom. Without any more international pressure, and amidst huge controversy within the country, the Afghan government decided not to deal with the Talibans a second time around. Naqshbandi would pay the ultimate price.
The American, Parenti decides to return to Kabul, to talk to Naqshbandi’s family and friends, to discover how, why and what became of his dear friend.
I found myself deeply affected by this film. Not only because of the specific subject matter – subject matter, that is quite relateable to the Barang Films family – but because of the great care and beauty which was given to this documentary, by filmmaker Olds. I was so impressed by much in this exploration, but there was one particular scene in this film, and the fact that Olds chose to include it, that really put this film at the top of the list for me.
Throughout the whole of this film, Olds builds up the incredible relationship that blossoms between Parenti and Naqshbandi. Much of this story appears to be culled from almost-throwaway video footage, where the two of them are just having conversations, sometimes extremely political, other times quite personal. The camera work is borderline shoddy, even, but these conversations that take place in vehicles in between locations, really are at the heart of this film. It is during these moments that the viewer experiences the power of friendship and connection that happens between two people from seemingly opposite ends of the planet and life spectrum.
Olds could have left it at that. He could have let this be the tale of an incredibly deeply personal, even heartwarming friendship- a friendship that would end in nightmarish, heartwrenching devastation. Instead, as only the most respected in the film medium can sometimes dare to do, he chooses truth and complexity over simplicity and good feeling.
Through the course of one of these excursions en route to a remote locale, Naqshbandi has an incredible conversation (all in Afghan) to the driver of the vehicle. In subtitles we discover that Naqshbandi is basically telling the driver that he despises all journalists, as they’re only in his country for exploitative purposes, and that because of this he chooses to basically exploit them. He even implies that he is only a “friend” to the American because he pays him, and that he hates all those from England, American, Europe alike.
It’s an incredibly jarring moment to be witness to that. It at least certainly makes one think twice about the reliability of Naqshbandi. It also makes us wonder about what is real and what isn’t. Is there a friendship at all? Or just an impersonal business transaction? Or maybe it’s somewhere in between; quagmired and deeply embedded in some sort of cynicism that can only be brought about by something like hundreds of years of war. In the end, Olds leaves it up to the viewer to decide. It’s a wonderfully appropriate portrayal and a wonderfully complex choice for a filmmaker to make.
I say kudos to Ian Olds. And I say kudos to all of the fixers around the globe.
You may never truly know of your import.
BARANG FILMS 