Born in Tehran in 1950 under the name of Faegheh Atashin, Googoosh was catapulted to fame at a very young age. She sang in the movie Fear and Hope (George Obadiah, 1960), at the age of just 10. She became a regular feature on Iranian film and television in her teens, singing groovy songs inspired by The Jackson 5 and Shirley Bassey, she tells us. She became the country’s biggest household name in the 1970s, and soon started touring the world – recording in English, French, Italian and Spanish.
When she saw Khomeini on television for the first time, long before the Revolution, she never imagined that he would brutlly abort her career. “I couldn’t have known that I would be locked up for so many years”, she explains. She also notes that she wasn’t a political person, focusing instead on music and cinema. Differently from the Ayatollahs, she was unaware that the arts are intrinsically political. That would change later in life, as she became a vocal activist for women’s rights, particularly after the assassination of Mahsa Amini, and the consequent Women Life Freedom movement that took to the streets of Iran in 2022.
Much of the film consists of archive footage of Googoosh’s countless television and film appearances in the 1960s and 1970s, as well as some insight into her multiple relationships (she once became pregnant by a married man, and once married a cocaine addict), until the Islamic Revolution changed it all in 1978. These images are interspersed with an interview of present-day Googoosh, elegant and smiley on a white sofa with a motionless designer dog sat next to her. She’s barely the image of a pop icon. She looks more like a socialite. Her charisma still shines though: her smile is contagious, as is the spark of hope for a better Iran in her eyes. Her warble is mostly intact. The magnetic voice behind the classic Pol (“Bridge”) still has the ability to win hearts. She sings 21st century lyrics “my Iran, the torture chamber of the innocent” with great aplomb.
Googoosh was touring North America when the Revolution took place. She was warned that she would probably face arrest if she returned to Iran. Despite the risks, she decided in favour of going back home. She did not go to prison, but was instead forced into obscurity. She live “like a normal person” for 21 years, with a hijab concealing her beauty, and without performing at all. The film fails to inform viewers that the regime forbids women to sing, and people of both sexes to dance in public, leaving those unfamiliar with the morality codes of the Revolution wondering why she was forced to lapse into anonymity. Googoosh’s lyrics were not political. It was the mere fact that she was a female singer that made her deeply subversive in the eyes of Khomeini.
The life journey of Googoosh is a very interesting and peculiar one. She spent roughly two decades as a pop star, roughly two decades as a “nobody”, and then roughly the same amount of time as a resistance icon. She recalls the day she was invited to leave Iran so she could perform again, in Canada. She convinced herself that she would get arrested on her way to the airport, or maybe inside the airplane, or that two jet fighters would shoot her airplane down should it ever take off. She was elated with joy when the aircraft eventually left the Iranian airspace. She remembers feeling like a first-time singer when she performed in Canada after the interminable 21-year hiatus. Her voice is laden with emotion. It’s impossible not to feel empathy.
Crafted as a love letter to a talented singer whose predicament is comparable to the turbulent history of her homeland, Googoosh – Made of Fire is a movie dotted with hyperbolical claims, and some tawdry symbolisms (such as the recurring image of a white bird flying into the blue sky) While the talent of its protagonist is undeniable, some comparisons are questionable: “Googoosh was a pop star before Madonna and Cher”. While she indeed flirted with international trends and rhythms, Googoosh has remained firmly Iranian. The film never addresses why – despite singing in so many languages – the singer has been largely unknown outside the Persian diaspora, and her comeback concerts are almost entirely aimed at Iranians. She never reached the same level of international recognition as Umm Kalthoum and Dalida. The singer never risks a word in English behind the microphone, communicating with her fans strictly in Farsi. Similarly during the protests in solidarity with Iranian women.
The story wraps up with a message of hope, as Googoosh encourages the brave dissident voices of Iran – particularly female singers – to make themselves heard, Sadly, many have been arrested, tortured and killed since the Women, Life Freedom movement began.
This very conventional musician biopic is tailored for those already familiar with Googoosh. Those who never listened to her music may find the developments a little banal, and the movie a little unimaginative. The song renditions are never delivered in their integrity, leaving a taste of “I want more” in the mouth of those listening to the septuagenarian singer for the very first time.
Googoosh – Made of Fire premiered at CPH:DOX.