By focusing on lived experience rather than politics or reportage, Amini portrays Afghanistan not as a spectacle of war but as a place of contradictions, intimacy, and resilience. Amini speaks about resisting the impulse to condemn, exploring generational cycles of belief, and trusting cinema as a space for reflection rather than judgment.
AM: What drew you to tell the story of Samim with an intimate and human perspective rather than a political or journalistic lens?
Aboozar Amini: While journalistic and political approaches often focus on presenting events in a structured or curated way, what Walter Benjamin (1968) describes as Erlebnis, the immediate, surface-level experience, I was drawn to explore Samim’s story through the lens of Erfahrung, the lived, human experience that reveals deeper insights into how individuals respond to their circumstances. This perspective allows for a more intimate and human-centered understanding of his life beyond the immediate events.
AM: You mention resisting the urge to condemn your protagonist, despite your own history as a Hazara. How did this personal background influence the way you approached the characters and narrative?
Aboozar Amini: For me, every film is a process of self-discovery, self-improvement, and above all, self-criticism. This project was no different; it began for me in the aftermath of August 15, 2021. I thought of Japanese filmmakers in the 1950s, who turned to self-criticism in order to understand how their society had arrived at the point of nuclear devastation. In a similar way, I felt the need to interrogate my own position, my own history.
As part of a generation in Afghanistan that placed genuine faith in the Western promise of democracy, something sold to us since 2001, I suddenly experienced the profound disillusionment of seeing that dream collapse, as the country was handed over to a group once considered terrorists. That betrayal was a wound, a shock that demanded reflection rather than easy judgment.
Approaching Samim’s story through this lens, I resisted the impulse to condemn. Instead, I sought to understand how individuals navigate impossible circumstances, how human choices are shaped by forces far larger than ourselves. My personal history gave me reason to accuse, but my commitment as a filmmaker required me to listen.
AM: Afghanistan has often been depicted in global media through stereotypes or with a heavy focus on war and violence. How does your film challenge these predetermined narratives and offer a different window into Afghan society?
Aboozar Amini: War, despite its horror, has often been treated as something exotic, especially by outsiders who can come to Afghanistan, capture its devastation in a quick “hit and run” film, and then leave. For them, it is spectacle. For me, someone born into war, there is nothing attractive about it, only destruction, loss, and ugliness.
My perspective comes from love and responsibility: love for my country, and care for the people who continue to bear the cost of endless wars imposed upon them and the chaos caused by wars. Through my film, I wanted to move beyond reductive portrayals of Afghanistan as only a landscape of violence. Instead, I sought to show the intimate, human realities: the resilience, the contradictions, and the everyday lives that persist beyond the headlines, with their beauty and ugliness.
AM: The relationship between Samim and his younger brother Rafi adds a generational layer to the story. What were you hoping to convey about Afghanistan’s youth and the cycles of radicalisation through their bond?
Aboozar Amini: In my metaphor, there are those “above the bridge” and those “below the bridge,” a division between power and the people. Samim and Rafi both belong to the ruling generation that stands above the bridge, yet their perspectives diverge. Samim, having lived through more than two decades of foreign occupation, carries scars, contradictions, and a cautious outlook shaped by those years. Rafi, by contrast, has grown up largely in the shadow of the August 2021 “Victory,” an event that instills pride but can also cultivate dangerous illusions about power and Afghanistan’s place in the world.
AM: When working on such a sensitive subject, how did you balance documentary-style observation with cinematic storytelling to ensure authenticity without losing emotional impact?
Aboozar Amini: I believe in the art of cinema rather than political reportage, because art allows us to think more deeply, to ask questions, and to see from perspectives that are often unconventional. The true power of cinema lies in this ability, and while it may feel rare in contemporary filmmaking, it is deeply rooted in the history of cinema, especially in older films, which I often find more inspiring than much of what we see today.
With this mindset, documentary-style observation can become cinematic in itself if approached with the right timing, organic sensitivity, and genuine curiosity. This approach tends to preserve authenticity while still allowing the emotional life of the story to emerge naturally.
AM: What does it mean for you personally, and for Afghan cinema more broadly, to present Kabul, Between Prayers on the international stage of the Venice Film Festival?
Aboozar Amini: It gives me hope, hope that a platform like Venice still exists for films that follow their own authentic path rather than catering to mass-media politics. In a world dominated by political turmoil and media spectacle, it feels encouraging that there is still space for art to be seen and to speak. For me, the significance lies not in recognition, but in the possibility of sharing a story that honors all lives and experiences it portrays.