BO BA BU (UZBEKISTAN/1998/ALI KHAMRAYEV)

In the middle of the Uzbek desert, a blond-haired woman limps aimlessly, bandages adorning her body. Spied by a father and son team of hooded shepherds named Bo and Bu, she is fitted with a makeshift leash and dragged behind their cart like an animal. At first, Bo and Bu appear to show some affection for the woman, whom they name Ba. They feed her, wash her and take care of her as if she were a member of their flock. Before long, the two men find themselves vying for her attention, but are unable to shake off their obsessive objectification of her, and she is violently thrown around between the two like a ragdoll.

The film portrays the men as unpolished savages, unable to communicate beyond monosyllables. It is alleged that the film sparked controversy in various Central Asian countries for such a blunt depiction of the area, but director Ali Khamrayev quite pointedly does not associate the film with any specific country, saying only that it takes place “11,000km from New York”. In spite of this, the film seems to only really have one thing to say. The woman, played by Arielle Dombasle, stands apart from the backdrop as a blue-eyed, pink-lipped Barbie doll, an icon of all things European. Her presence in the desert alone seems to be the catalyst for the shepherds’ downfall, evoking a simple statement on European influence. Neither a straight drama nor a hilarious parody, Bo Ba Bu is an unusually mixed bag.

VELD (UZBEKISTAN/1987/NAZIM TULYAKHODZAYEV)

Taking its inspiration from the Ray Bradbury book of the same name, Veld concerns Linda and Mike, a couple living in a state-of-the-art house which has been designed to gratify their every need. The “nursery”, actually a large virtual reality booth, has the power to recreate any place on earth, and is a favourite hangout for the couple’s kids, Peter and Wendy. One night, Linda wakens to the sound of lions roaring loudly, a sound traced to the nursery which appears to be stuck in an African grassland setting. Convinced that this way of life has destroyed the family entirely, Linda and Mike become withdrawn and childish, leaving Peter and Wendy to usurp them at the top of the family unit in a bizarre role reversal. Speaking to a psychiatrist, Mike begins to decode the children’s obsession with the nursery and, before long, his fear of this self-aware house is realised.

Technology is the true enemy here, stealing power from the last generation and giving it to the next. This is wonderfully reflected in the intimidating set design: from the long, thin doors of the nursery to the engulfing electronic bed curtain, every part of the house appears designed to keep its inhabitants locked inside. Director Nazim Tulyakhodzayev builds up the suspense meticulously, deliberately reducing the children to secondary characters to ensure that the parents project their emotions realistically. Although many of the film’s thematic merits can be ascribed to Bradbury’s original story, Veld is a deftly inventive psychological horror.