In the name of God the
compassionate the merciful.
Luscinia [HEZAR DASTAN]
by Ali Hatami
Jamshid Mashayekhi
Ezzatollah Entezami
Davood Rashidi
Ali Nasirian
Mohammad Ali Keshavarz
Jafar Vaali
Hossein Gil
Zahra Hatami
Shahla Mirbakhtiar
Jamshid Layegh
Esmail Mehrabi
Parviz Pourhosseini
Mohammad Moti
Ataollah Zahed
Hooshang Beheshti
Late Mohammad Taghi Kahnamoui
Late Kheirollah Tafreshi-azad
Late Esmail Mohammadi
Jahangir Forouhar
Roghieh Chehreh-azad
Minoo Abrishami
Mehdi Vadadian
Afsar Asadi
Mansour Valamagham
Manouchehr Azari
Reza Abdi
Farhang Mehrparvar
Soroush Khalili
Nematollah Gorji
Saeed Amir-soleimani
Mohammad Varshoee
Jahangir Almasi
Asghar Hemmat
Hossein Hatami
Esfandiar Mavandadi
Edited by: Abbas Ganjavi, Ali Hatami
Audio and video editor: Hassan Hassan-doust
Sound and mix: Roubik Mansouri
Music by: Morteza Hannaneh
Directors of photography: Mehrdad Fakhimi,
Maziar Parto
Production manager: Mohammad Mehdi Dadgou
Distributed by: Channel 1 of Islamic
Republic of Iran Broadcasting 1978-1987
Written and directed by: Ali Hatami
Previously on Luscinia...
First census of Tehran.
Quazarian Jewelry Shop gets robbed.
The robbery is investigated by the police.
Amin Aqdas gives Master Mozaffar
a call.
The chief of police is
summoned by Master.
The police chief interrogates Grand Hotel
staff to keep up appearances.
The chief gives the urgent order of
locating the stolen piece of jewelry.
The six-fingered inspector is
appointed to investigate the case.
The inspector fails to return
the stolen jewelry.
A second plan was made in order
to steal the stolen jewelry
from the princess...
in the opening of the movie Lor Girl.
A fight was raised inside the
movie theater between the police and the
outlaws...
including Shabun and the six-fingered
inspector in order to
steal the stolen jewelry.
The inspector meets Master Mozaffar
with the intention of returning...
the stolen jewelry to Amin Aqdas.
The police make another mistake
regarding this matter.
The six-fingered inspector suspects
his scoundrel accomplice.
Sergeant Rajabi confesses to secretly
stealing the piece of jewelry.
Master Golbahar and Master
Mozaffar have a friendly meeting...
with the aim of recording
music in Mumbai.
The inspector succeeds to find a clue
regarding the complicated case.
Amin Aqdas informs Master Mozaffar
that the stolen jewelry is found.
Master is pleased to find her young
daughter-in-law overjoyed.
What a hectic situation!
Out of the area!
This is Grand Hotel for God's sake.
I can't read it.
Let me show it to someone.
Hey! What's written here?
You can't read?
I can't read or write.
Please read this manifesto.
- Read it loudly. I'm hard of hearing.
- Sure.
Thank you.
Dear Iranians. Thousands of
Germans are in your territory.
They have been given important
positions in industry and agriculture.
They are just waiting for Hitler's order
to loot your main sources of finance.
Embassy of Germany has provided
them with all kinds of facilities.
They each are on a particular mission
at the moment.
We are well aware of the chaos
in Iraq with Germans behind it.
Undoubtedly, they intend to do
the same in Iran.
A similar situation could be seen in
many small countries in Europe...
before getting defeated by Germany.
We are determined to drive the
Germans out of your country.
If not driven out by Iranians,
Great Britain and Russia will take action.
Our forces are irresistible.
We are in no quarrel with you.
We shall harm neither your country
nor your lives.
Our only purpose is to drive out
the wicked Germans.
Their intention is nothing but turning
your country to a b*ttlefield.
Cooperate with us and we shall
combine forces...
now and forever.
Army commander of Great Britain.
Commander of Red Fire.
Get out of the area.
Out of the way!
Disperse!
Clean up the area.
- Hello sir.
- Hello. Ls Master Mozaffar available?
Yes sir. This way please.
Here is a manifesto by allied powers.
Master must be aware of this.
Let me see.
Nothing's happened.
Take it easy. It's okay.
Stop crying. Take him inside.
Rise.
Why did you break the vase?
Have some cigarettes sir.
I'm taking it so you won't
offer it to anyone.
Yes sir.
You are always aware of things
in advance.
Pack your things.
They are coming.
Where should I go?
I am the marked officer of the
police headquarters.
There have been people who
had narrow escapes.
Mashhad, August 1941.
[Reports on the radio]
God, to you I put my trust in.
They say it's a great movie.
Movie theaters are closed as
allied powers are in the country.
The city is taken by Russians.
Excuse me officer.
This car has been parked in front of
Mr. Khoshnevis's house since this morning.
All right.
I will take care of it.
Hot potato!
Hot potato!
They say the car has been parked
here since this morning.
Hot potato!
Looking for an address?
Coming.
Coming!
How can I help you?
Is your husband home?
Master Khoshnevis?
Hello.
How are you?
Name?
Reza.
- Father's name?
- Mostafa.
- Last name?
- Khoshnevis.
- Occupation?
- Calligrapher.
- Born in?
- Tehran.
- Resident of?
- Mashhad.
So that cloak is the reason of
all the chaos.
You are under arrest.
What for?
Keep in your stupid mind
not to ask questions.
You will be ex*cuted by sh**ting
if the contrary of your nonsense is proved.
Stupid old dog!
You are already under interrogation.
This is actually a mobile court.
Who is that wicked woman
pretending to faint at the door?
Darling?
Shut your mouth before I shut it for you.
Just answer my question.
She is my wife.
- Her name?
- Ghamar Banou.
- Last name?
- Jalal al-Molki.
Who else lives here except
the two of you?
Nobody.
- Do you spend time with your neighbors?
- Perhaps my wife does.
Do not answer my questions with
"Perhaps". Just "yes" or "no".
Yes sir.
Darling?
Darling?
You want me to shut your mouth?
Stand up.
No excuse will be accepted.
Here is your first interrogation paper.
Sign it.
Can I ask for something?
My first and last request.
Let me see my wife.
Why did you start it if you
love your wife so much?
I did not start anything.
We will come to know in the
police headquarters in Tehran.
I would make all these walls
talk if I was not too tired.
Get some rest.
We can give you food and
a place to sleep.
Maybe you change your mind
by the morning.
You are at the wrong place. I swear to
God I had never been arrested before.
Let me tell you something
about your wife.
Please leave that respectable
old woman alone.
This is her praying scarf.
Is she dead?
She is on the floor downstairs.
Just like a stinky c*ck in a toilet.
Please let me see her.
She must be interrogated first.
You will be imprisoned in
your room tonight.
With your hands released of course.
I am being quite nice to you.
Of course after I search the room.
Be careful with my papers.
Don't be afraid. I usually do not
start the t*rture so quickly.
Torturing makes prisoners
fearless and thick-skinned.
Too much fat!
Where is your weapon?
Cold weapons or firearms.
No difference.
I only have a pen sharpener.
It is in the box.
So it was the pen sharpener you
pulled out those innocent eyes with.
Excuse me sir. Sorry to say this but
I suffer from frequent urination.
I have to go to the toilet repeatedly
for emptying my bladder.
Your ancestors used silver vases
and crystal decanter for that.
It was Qajars who first put
flowers in vases.
You shall use a pottery vase for
that purpose Your Highness.
It's a precious gift.
Made by the hands of an Iranian artist.
Alas!
I will never make such a mistake.
This pottery vase is a work of art sir.
You must get used to the taste of urine.
That is what you drink behind bars.
If I were in your shoes, I would
begin with my own urine.
At least it tastes better.
Rice and beans.
Sorry if you are not well-served.
In the Name of God.
Dear Mr. Inspector,
The purpose of writing this letter,
as previously mentioned
under interrogation...
is stating the innocence of
my husband, Mirza Reza Khoshnevis.
With no crimes committed, he shall not
get punished or the punisher will be...
considered as an enemy to
God and His prophet.
A few pieces of jewelry are
offered to thee as a gift.
I hope there will be no punishment
considered for this act
as this is not bribery.
Please have some sugar cubes
and sweeten your mouth.
Sweet sugar cubes!
A sun!
A heart-shaped pendant
decorated with ruby.
Flowered chain!
Puckered chain!
Flat earrings.
That's all?
No pound sterling or gold coins?
They are sitting on a treasure in
this damned place.
Old people are money-skinned.
I will skin him.
Open this door you filthy hypocrite.
I shall not allow a wicked jerk like you
to be alone with my wife in my house...
as long as I'm breathing.
You think all people are like you,
you evil hypocrite?
To hell with your damn government.
Who do you think you are
dealing with mister?
Until when?
Not anymore!
I shall die respectfully.
I will no longer let you.
No!
I have had enough.
You shameless charlatan!
Come k*ll us.
Come and hang us.
I shall no longer let you despise me.
My patience has run out.
You dirty-mouthed jerk!
I am ready.
Come on you phony imposter!
Come on.
[Saying prayers.]
Well! It's empty-
This one is empty too.
Nothing here.
Where is it?
That's it.
These are all papers and books.
I want his paper money.
Shall I prepare your bed?
How can I sleep well in that bed?
We used to share the same body.
Now we do not fit in the same bed.
I will cover myself with my scarf.
And I am not used to sleeping on pillows.
It is not the pillow, darling.
It is that we no longer feel
safe in this place.
You can sleep anywhere when
you feel heavy-eyed.
Lie down and rest your eyes.
How can I rest my eyes when
I am wide awake in my sleep?
- Is he asleep?
- I wish he dies in sleep.
- Did he have dinner?
- Like a hungry wolf.
Did he have a g*n?
He was aggravated.
He must be carrying something.
I wish he was a military man rather
than an undercover inspector.
It is less fearful when they are
not in disguise. Cruel world!
Humans are scared of humans.
He looks more like a jinn.
He is six-fingered.
I thought jinn are scared of
the name of God.
I had just started writing the letter G.
Last work!
I wonder if I lit the cigarette mistakenly.
I'm afraid doing calligraphy
has been banned.
Banning has become a tradition
in this country.
We did not hear anything on
the radio about this.
However, we heard about w*r.
I am afraid the newly crowned king
has banned the art of calligraphy.
Death passes on all.
Even the hero was finally hanged.
That fearless fighter.
It was his call anyway.
I have no right to get my hands
on an endowed property.
If it was my life, I would ask that
wicked physician to end it...
by injecting air into my vein.
What masterminds! Murderers who use
air, this source of life to take lives.
These are the alchemists who
make copper out of gold.
I am too old to k*ll or be cut off
at the prime of life.
I neither had a father like
Ishmael nor a son like him.
However, Abraham and Ishmael
both shared the same body with me.
I then said: "Abraham!"
Sacrifice your son,
"Ishmael for the time has come."
I sacrificed on this altar.
These papers are full of writings in the
blood of Ishmael, the son I never had.
It is to be regretted that no sheep
was given for sacrifice.
Pens came from canebrakes.
My good old reed.
Beautifully it sounded itself. Only the
breath was mine and not the melodies.
I kept blowing the reed and writing.
Skills not valued at long last,
The naked truth it is.
This cheap merchandise of mine,
Where to sell it?
Praise the Lord!
Corrupted this land has become.
I got it! It must be in here.
Yes!
What? Spoiled bread?
Let me search under it.
Seeking humility, rejecting wealth,
I never made a future, not even close.
I was a calligrapher.
I did calligraphy.
What did you do my lady?
Cleaning, sewing, cooking.
I made verjuice in summer
and pomegranate paste in winter.
And you did it all for my sake.
- You wept all sour grapes of a vineyard.
- Verjuice was the cure for your arthritis.
And all sour oranges of an orangery.
Sour orange was good for your headaches.
- And a pomegranate orchard.
- Fesenjun was your favorite dish.
- Sol must've had walnuts as well.
- Thank God you have tasted everything.
You are not a greedy man.
You have had everything in your life.
[singing]
You are the man of the house.
I gave you everything.
SO did I.
May God protect you for me.
Now I am even afraid of my own shadow.
Come closer.
During the last few years, we were
mostly neighbors and not spouses.
I wish we had some tea.
The stupid inspector has locked
the door on us.
Mother always had dry tea with her.
She used to soften it with her saliva
while she worked during the day.
She always had tea like that.
When she was gone,
all blessings disappeared.
Mother was a blessed woman.
She was different from us.
The household, except for us and our
servants were our permanent guests...
who would be found in guest rooms
and specially the dining room.
Colorful rice platters, bowls of stews,
pitchers of yogurt drink and sherbet.
Such colorful foods!
However, the guests never had an appetite.
Even the gluttons did not have
time to eat with greed.
They only touched the food, tasted
a small part of it and then wasted it.
Then the servants would come.
What a meaningful name they had!
Servant!
They were the ones who ruled in that
house, not us.
They held the real celebration.
Servants would come. Servants who
created such colorful foods sat together.
Men, women, child servants,
carriage drivers, gardeners and cooks.
Platters, bowls and pitchers were
passed and handed over.
Bon appétit for these foods are the
fruit of your own labor.
We are the parasites and spongers,
not you.
Whenever my father got off the carriage,
he was welcomed by fresh air.
It was as if he passed through a glass
corridor all the way to the house.
His clothes were never dusty.
I wish my father too could whiten
the air by shaking flour off him...
like the worker who carried
flour to the bakery.
If my father was a bricklayer
like the other worker...
I would decorate his hod with mirrors.
Then it would be more beautiful than
all halls decorated with mirror.
But it is to be regretted
that my father, who
inherited his father's wealth was jobless.
His illness and pain gave you
the allowance to enter our house.
The presence of Reza, the distressed
man who was sent to our
place by my father's...
calligraphy master, gave my heart
a fever though he was never of no use to my
dad.
I always wished to see my dad sweating
heavily next to a furnace like bakers.
However, father enjoyed the pool,
shades, chilled scented sweetbrier water...
and soft thin sheets.
Child servants were holding wicker fans,
people inside, chattering.
We used to play with water in the
fountain pool.
White bathing-gowns,
good sleep and relaxation.
My father's hands were as soft
as my playmates'.
Tailor! Make me a garment in which
I neither have to be folded arms...
nor touching my hips.
Now that you fail to do that,
we shall try two styles.
One for welcoming.
Forever your humble servant Master.
And one for summoning servants.
Come here you wicked creatures!
- At your service Master.
- My wish is your command.
Waiting for your order Master.
Banou!
I remember I used to be called
"Master" in this lunatic asylum.
I am afraid you have made
me wear women's clothing, tailor.
Ghamar Banou!
This is going too far!
Every person pictures an image of himself.
Back then, I pictured myself in the
figure of a refractory white horse...
that would not welcome her suitors.
I attempted to join the servants.
I was rejected.
They said my hands were too soft.
They never let me sweep the floor,
grind food, prepare beds or spin fire.
There was no alternative but to wait for my
future husband in my father's house.
My suitors were:
Mohtazer al-Dowleh, Malek al-Tofaleh,
Nefrat al-Molk and Qayat al-Saltaneh.
In fact I preferred to be a spinster
rather than a rival wife.
People on earth are greatly blessed.
However, no blessing could be
better than a sick husband...
who is neither a master nor a servant.
A sick man in power, devoted to no one.
Someone who will be authorized in time.
Now the groom is aware of all
the bride's secrets.
A bride with no guest, feast or music band.
The groom has no kith and kin either.
I am everyone, a guest and a bridesmaid.
And I have dyed the bride with henna.
You have a visitor.
Leave that innocent old man
alone Inspector.
He cannot tolerate disrespect.
I am afraid you will finally k*ll him.
It is a sin to work for such a cruel
government.
The kitchen is the best place for
interrogation.
It's stuffy in here!
And there's the smell of leftovers.
That is what stimulates the mind
to choose the t*rture tool.
Blood sauce.
The salinity of wounds.
Grinding the prisoner's brain.
Everything available!
Skewers. Chopping-knives.
An oven, oil and fire!
Great variety of things!
Thank God we have everything here.
A place, tools and a prisoner.
So you have good oil at home?
Yes.
It is in the pitcher.
Scrambled eggs!
All the more welcome at midnight.
We have eggs too.
I will heat the oil and see
what I can find to fry.
We are professional people.
Even when it comes to torturing.
Can I go to the toilet?
Hold it till we arrive in Tehran.
There is no alternative.
- It hurts.
- I gave you the pottery vase.
You could use that.
That is a shame!
I need to have a book of reports
on your interrogations.
We both are already behind with it.
Write down and make a confession.
The later it finishes,
the hotter the oil will be.
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01x04 - Episode 4
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The story is split into two different timelines. The events of World w*r II and Anglo-Soviet invasion of Iran is where the main narrative takes place, but a great deal of the story is told through flashbacks to the last days of Qajar dynasty by Reza Khoshnevis.
The story is split into two different timelines. The events of World w*r II and Anglo-Soviet invasion of Iran is where the main narrative takes place, but a great deal of the story is told through flashbacks to the last days of Qajar dynasty by Reza Khoshnevis.