The Song of Scorpions is based on an ancient myth that the only way to cure a scorpion sting is a song from a trained singer, otherwise death will kill the injured person.
It’s a skill passed down through families and a tribal woman Nooran (Golshifteh Farahani) learns the art of becoming a scorpion singer from her grandmother, Zubaida (Waheeda Rehman).
However, tragedy strikes and since her local village shuns her, she finally accepts the marriage proposal of camel herder, Aadam (Irrfan Khan), who is captivated with her and her voice.
He promises that they will be the happiest couple in the world, but certain discoveries about the tragedy after their marriage then set her on a path of vengeance.
Dramatic Vistas
Anup Singh’s direction of The Song of Scorpions is an ode to the stunning landscapes of Rajasthan’s Thar Desert.
Wide shots of sweeping dunes contrast against the vibrant blue skies to create a seemingly endless land of old.
In contrast, there are touches of modernity in the film. We see Jeeps fight their way over the tough terrain or Aadam mock the 21st century addiction to mobiles – helping spread gossip about Aadam and Nooran faster than any aunty.
Still, the vast shifting sands render the characters like tiny ants or scorpions in an ancient fable. Singh emphasises nature’s majesty and mystery in order for it to sufficiently rival this underlying tension with modern life.
However, to an extent nature wins this battle of importance. By suggesting the magnitude of the gigantic power that aids Nooran’s power, the loss of her singing makes her seem more bereft.
Of course, the spectre of modern life puts pressure on her sudden inability to earn a living. On the other hand, the shots of a wandering Nooran through the desert place more importance on her emotional aimlessness.
In comparison to her purposeful stride through this environment to reflect her independence and inner strength, She hasn’t simply lost her livelihood, but her life force too.
Nooran’s character is a fascinating mix of nature and modern independence in a society that may have progressed with technology to shun traditional living, but one that still holds on to outdated expectations.
In short, Nooran’s character and her story offer a new twist on a myth-like tale.
The Desert: Friend or Foe?
Again, an early scene of Nooran winding her way through some rocky precipices to tease Aadam at a waterhole demonstrates her ease and confidence in this wilderness. In fact, the camera is on the brink of loosing Nooran in its view, reflecting her comfort with disappearing into this world.
In comparison, the number of close-ups on the villagers and their lives almost appears to highlight the close-minded nature of their rules. Through their narrow outlook, they see Nooran as too independent and accuse her of being “insolent and scandalous”.
Nevertheless, after losing her grandmother to the desert and a part of herself, we zoom in to see her scrabble through the desert in desperation.
Ultimately, Anup Singh’s direction positions the desert as both fickle friend and beloved enemy.
It’s only after an almost invasively close shot of a sensual embrace between Nooran and Aadam that the camera allows Nooran to return to seeming more at ease in the tempestuous climate.
For this, she seductively, yet menacingly licks off the speckles of salt off Aadam’s face following a desert ride. Plotting her revenge, she finally takes back control of her fate with the help of the desert and nature.
Light and Darkness
Another strength of The Song of Scorpions is its masterful exploration of light and dark.
The viewer has the treat of witnessing the full shade range of the golden sands. The film makes the most of every opportunity from the sun beating down on a desolate Nooran or the odd shimmering darkness as she sings on the dunes at night.
This interplay of light and shadow is developed most intriguingly through the characters of Aadam and Nooran.
After the traumatised Nooran struggles to adjust to modern life, we see Aadam glow in the lamplight while she, face turned, is cast in darkness literally and metaphorically.
Aadam may appear more straightforward and honest, particularly with his open declarations of love and patience. Whereas Nooran describes the loss of the “real Nooran”, leaving just “flesh and bones”.
Yet, it is Aadam who is more shadowy at times and The Song of Scorpions soon reveals his secrets.
The Poison of Modern Life
Of course, money is not a modern invention. However, The Song of Scorpions underlines its corruptive capacity, particularly in the 21st century.
Those identified with contemporary values are seen to exploit people like Nooran and Zubaida who use their gifts more to help than to receive any reimbursement.
A village woman initially refuses to pay Nooran for her services at the beginning of the film, quibbling that Nooran has saved her brother’s life but some poison is still left in the injured man’s arm.
We hear the woman’s voice call Nooran back from storming off as we are introduced to Aadam for the first time.
In different but similar ways, they seek to force Nooran to play by their rules and by extension, those of society.
The village woman traps Nooran to prioritise money, which she later uses against her to call her “a scandalous and greedy girl”. Then, Aadam wants to own her as his wife and bind her with the expectations of marriage.
Full of Song, Lacking in Lines
The Song of Scorpions has a truly beautiful soundtrack thanks to its scorpion singers. Not only does Farahani’s voice captivate us and Aadam, but the film includes enchanting lyrics like:
“My beautiful princess
You are the lightening on a stormy sky
You are the seasons, the spring”
There is the constant presence of nature, even in this particular scene of Nooran charming a crying baby in the heart of the village.
As mentioned, Nooran and Zubaida derive their strength from nature but this is most evident through the lyrics of their songs.
Nevertheless, while the traditional songs from Madan Gopal Singh are wonderfully evocative, the dialogue is forgettable.
The Song of Scorpions relies a little too much on visuals that the plot and motivations of characters are confusing.
Even the principal myth of the Scorpion Singers in Rajasthan relies on an explanation before the film.
Of course, this adds a degree of intrigue in the film, but is reminiscent of some of the critiques of French films – full of meaningful sighs and looks.
This inadvertently nods towards the film’s production team and alongside the “exotic” feel of the cinematography feels as if it’s catered more towards a Western audience.
Memorable Characters
The small, but memorable cast all quietly deliver excellent performances and this helps to compensate for areas lacking in the film.
The intensity of Irrfan Khan’s gaze easily conveys the degree of Aadam’s obsession. He is constantly looking at Nooran as if he could swallow her up like another desert creature, the snake.
Although, Farahani does shine in this role, so it’s hard for anyone to look away.
A vitality and joy seems to permeate her in early scenes, but this makes her subsequent despair all the more lamentable. As mentioned, her traumatic experiences leave her like “flesh and bones”, but this sense of kindness does remain and earns our sympathy.
Indeed as characteristic of Singh’s films, the women of the film win our approval. Most obviously is Nooran’s unflinchingly loyal friend, Amina. Even in Nooran’s worst moments, she is the first one to support her in moments of grief as well as joy.
But we see Nooran’s kindness through her relationship with Aadam’s daughter. While his “princess” had previously lived with his sister, he brings his family under one roof for the two to slowly bond.
With such scenes of happy families, there’s a degree of confusion over who we should root for as the audience.
Aadam is eventually shown to be not as straightforward in his intentions as he first seems. Yet, the film refuses to commit to him as an antagonist as he insists on his love for Nooran right to the end.
Most interestingly however, The Song of Scorpions contrasts the more selfish characters against the selfless.
Munna is unapologetic about his way of life. He teases Aadam for his obsession with Nooran, seeing him as an idiotic romantic while Munna happily visits sex workers and leads a carefree, hedonistic lifestyle.
Nevertheless, this proves to be his downfall as he pushes Aadam too far so Munna later tells Nooran:
“He cheated me with money, he cheated you with love”.
In comparison, Amma preaches an more ascetic lifestyle. She insists that the money Nooran has earned should be given to the poor at the mosque, seeing it as poison.
It may be more understandable how we should treat these secondary characters as clearly more good or bad. However, all the characters overcome a lack of real development thanks to a talented cast rather than the writing.
Final Thoughts
The Song of Scorpions may be a feast for the eyes, but the script’s issues are a shame when imagining how the cast could have extended their strong performances to the dialogue.
The Song of Scorpions is sumptuous example from Anup Singh on how to bring a myth-like tale to the modern day. Instead of the traditionally male-led, this updated interpretation of a fable places the spotlight on women.
While its words may fade from our memories, the songs and sights of The Song of Scorpions remain as unyielding as the desert sands.
