Fifi Howls from Happiness (فی‌فی از خوشحالی زوزه می‌کشد)

A collector wanted to sell this many years ago.

I had been looking for a piece by Mohassess for a long time.

They called to say we have a piece by Mohassess.

I went, I saw it, and immediately fell in love and bought it.

I'm looking for the other four panels. In all there are five panels.

I do know two people that have two of the panels

but don't know where the other two panels are.

Meanwhile I kept finding these smaller pieces.

This was my latest purchase.

Any Mohassess pieces I see...

Bahman Mohassess lives on a narrow street,

between Lalehzar and Saadi avenues.

We filmed him on a winter night, between 9 p.m. and 3 a.m.

In the six hours we spent with him, he painted, went to a cafe,

returned home to paint again.

In pursuit of insights into his world we followed him

and were impressed by his own view of his art

in a historic perspective.

But why not lei him explain why he is a historic figure...

Of course I am a historic figure.

And this doesn't mean I fart higher than my ass.

For this land, I'm a historic figure.

Which is why I lake really good care of myself.

One day these people will wake up to their own incompetence

they might not become better people

they shall be freed from bootlicking to become a more pitiful nation.

And I will make this happen.

Forty years have passed since Mohassess spoke these words.

The history in which Mohassess believed he played a major part

swallowed him whole, and no one was able to find him afterwards.

They say in those days Bahman Mohassess would throw a cape over his shoulders

and with a cane in his hand,

would strut around with three or four boy toys and his cutting tongue.

They say the last time he was seen in Tehran

he destroyed his entire body of work and left.

This image is all that people remember.

Neither his old fans nor today's collectors know his whereabouts,

and there is no visible trace of him,

except for a few wounded works

struggling not to drown

in an ever more muddy waters of art history.

The piercing stare of his fish

told of a cruel creator gazing at the world compassionately.

A creator whose very hiddenness

prompted one to wish to find him.

2,500.

2, 500'?

2,600.

2,700 T.

5,000.

6,000. 6,000.

6,000. 6,000. 6,000.

I heard some people say he's back from Rome after years,

and is living in Rasht, his hometown on the south coast of the Caspian Sea.

But others say he has left his country for good

and has settled in Italy.

This is where I found him

at Hotel Sacconi,

where he's been living for years.

Here, within these four walls,

where not a breath of Rome ever entered.

I won't tell you how I found him.

But you shall learn how I penetrated this room.

We were lions and leopards

who will be replaced by jackals and hyenas...

This image that is a play of light and shadow

was captured on July 28, 2010.

27 minutes after this image was captured,

Bahman Mohassess became forever unreachable.

MORGUE

I really don't understand what this film you are making about me ls all about.

If it's a film about a subject,

I must know what the role is that I am to play.

I have always said it's not important what he conveys,

but how he conveys.

I don't know the structure of your work.

How does it start'?

What does it want to say'?

And where does it end'?

I will explain it to you now...

I hope I was not a grand illusion for you.

I was!

Are you shooting?

I am starting to.

It starts with a poem by Marino Marini.

Put the translation under it.

Okay... look, here lady,

This is me!

And to put your mind at ease,

I will tell you my life story myself,

so that every idiot doesn't write my biography the way it suits him.

Listen!

Put this over the image of the sea.

Don't worry, I'll find the image.

And then start the voiceover.

Okay- --

A descendant of the Mongolian Dynasty on my father's side,

and the Ghajar Dynasty on my mother's side.

I was born on the 1st of March,1931

to the south of the Caspian sea, in the city of Rasht.

I came to Tehran and registered at the Academy of Fine Arts.

Dr. Mossadegh's government was nationalizing Iran's oil,

and the streets sucked us into them.

This is when I met the revolutionary poet Nima Yushij.

Our friendship lasted till the last day of his life,

and continues to be the most cherished of my memories.

With the American coup and the fall of Dr. Mossadegh

everything came to an end.

The following year, I came to Europe. It was the 14th of August, 1954.

In this slimy, vast uterus known as Rome I began to work and to live.

A city whose population squirms in an eternal coitus;

whose alleys are stained with the sperm of bygone centuries.

This must be Laila.

I hope it's Laila. That would set my mind to rest.

Hello, my dear. How are you'?

La dolce vita'?

Pardon'?

Yes, yes, this lady came at 3 p.m. today

and will be here for a few days to finish the film and leave.

So they haven't been able to stop the oil spill'?

It's horrible...l had made two sculptures about an oil spill...

I am condemned to paint.

Even if it begins as a habit it becomes a part of your body.

Do you understand?

Today, painting for me is a need,

exactly like taking a piss. It brings me relief.

Like popping a Pimp"?-

For the new year, the year 2000,

I came to Europe and traveled everywhere

to see how this millennium was going to start.

I came back truly disappointed. because nothing changed,

and the biggest event was Ricky Martin's singing.

What has Ricky Martin got to do with the year 2000'?

It makes no sense.

My era has ended.

What is going to replace it, I don't know.

It's not smelling too good.

Let's watch the World Cup opening.

They say there's no apartheid,

the country's entire wealth is in the hands of nine percent of whites.

Ah...

- You do know who Jan Palach was'? - No.

How can you not know him'?

He's the Czech student who set himself on fire

to protest the Russian invasion.

In the middle of today's repulsive environment

there is Jan Palach burning.

"Who Remembers Jan Palach?"

I made this for Halabche.

I made that one for the Gulf War.

I destroyed this. I had made it for Chernobyl.

- Are you looking for a cigarette? - Yes. It can't be.

Give me one, then I'll give you one later.

I had 18, now I can't remember how many I've smoked.

But this will have to last till tomorrow.

My doctor has warned me.

Make sure you put this in!

Make it wide angle.

Let me tell you the exact name...

This is about the occupation of Iraq.

And this title cannot be translated into Farsi.

You must say it exactly like this. When you show it,

the voiceover should say

This is called: "A Performance Called Shame."

A Performance Called Shame.

This is for Africa. Definitely put these in.

Which one is this? Somalia.

This one is called "Requiem Omnibus."

It means "public mourning."

When they killed Martin Luther King.

I saw that horror,

Whether it's these horrendous people

or the oil spills...

for years and years,

I witnessed it.

But I am only one John the Baptist

preaching alone in the desert.

It will make no difference.

It never will.

That is it. Done.

Do you want to take it off'?

I want to get up!

- Did you capture these'? - Yes.

I won't give you any coffee.

Otherwise I won't have any for tomorrow morning.

So lady,

what's the plan for my film's music'?

- Requiem. - Huh'?

I know I will use Mozart's Requiem at the end.

What are you thinking'?

Nothing.

Do you feel like watching the rest now, or should we do it another day'?

Sure, now is fine.

Tehran's Museum of Contemporary Art had commissioned this.

It's called "Special Messenger."

it is the symbol of all the strange prophets

come to save humanity.

I remember that Manzo was there, and he said:

"That's quite a dick!

Careful now... "