Shahram Mokri’s Black Rabbit, White Rabbit

You know you’ve really messed up as a filmmaker when your Iranian colleagues look at you and think: “wow, I wouldn’t want to be in his shoes.” Congratulations Alec Baldwin. You are that person. The tragic negligence on the set of Rust will be referenced multiple times (but not by name) in this trippy Iranian-Tajikistani co-production. Cheekily, director-co-screenwriter Shahram Mokri also frequently name-drops “Chekhov’s Gun,” which all but guarantees somebody will pull the trigger eventually in Black Rabbit, White Rabbit, which is now playing in Chicago.

Technically, a gun fires off relatively quickly during the odd prologue, or rather fatally misfires. Presumably, that gun will soon be sent to Sara by her now deceased ex-torch-carrier, for protection against her abusive husband. However, she refuses to accept it, fearing her abusive husband’s wrath for a supposed spending spree. That launches an absurdist battle of wills between the unhappy couple and the deliveryman, who is duty and paperwork bound to convey the package safely into her hands.

Except, it is all just a scene in the film an Iranian film is shooting in Tajikistan. Somehow, his contemporary scene is part of a remake of a famous Iranian production from the 1970s, in which a crusading village leader is assassinated. Somehow, the cast and crew have been rehearsing this scene with a “prop” gun that Babak, the prop master and armorer, cannot vouch for. He is determined to get on set to inspect the pistol, but the production office had lost his badge. He is particularly alarmed when he watches the actor in question get fatally shot from a monitor off set.

Except, maybe not yet. Similar to Mokri’s Careless Crime, time lines constantly loop, intersect, and overlap in Black Rabbit. However, in addition to the temporal gamesmanship, the fictional storylines and the behind-the-lines “reality” also seem to interact in strange ways. It is sort of like what could have been if David Lynch remade Truffaut’s Day for Night.

Of course, that means the film’s confusing nature is intended to be all part of the fun. Sometimes it can be a little too postmodern for is own good, but Babak Karimi brilliantly anchors the film as his nervous namesake and as “Antonio,” as some crew-members seem to know him.

Black Rabbit is so fascinating, because Mokri almost, but not quite loses control of this wild cinematic beast. There is constant tension from the awareness that this train could derail at any moment. Yet, whenever time loops back around again, it is sort of an exhilarating revelation that everything is going according to plan.

Well, almost always. There are more moments of bafflement than in his previous films. Mokri’s latest also lacks the oblique but still daring references to controversial events in Iranian history that further raised the stakes for Careless Crime. Regardless, this is bold and ambitious filmmaking that lands much more often than not. Highly recommended for adventurous cineastes, Black Rabbit, White Rabbit is currently playing at the Gene Siskel Film Center in Chicago.