Have you ever stopped to think about how certain stories get buried under the weight of history, only to resurface as a reminder of what we’ve collectively forgotten? That’s exactly what happened when I first heard about Forgotten Spaceman, Elham Ehsas’s upcoming film. Personally, I think this project is more than just a cinematic endeavor—it’s a cultural reckoning. What makes this particularly fascinating is how it resurrects the story of Abdul Ahad Momand, Afghanistan’s first (and only) cosmonaut, whose 1988 space voyage has been all but erased from global memory. In my opinion, this isn’t just about a man in space; it’s about the stories we choose to remember and the ones we allow to fade away.
The Forgotten Hero in the Stars
Abdul Ahad Momand’s journey into space is a detail that I find especially interesting. Here’s a man who made Pashto the fourth language spoken beyond Earth, a moment of triumph for Afghanistan. But what many people don’t realize is that this achievement was overshadowed almost immediately by the country’s descent into civil war. If you take a step back and think about it, this is a microcosm of how narratives of conflict and colonialism dominate our understanding of certain nations. Momand’s story isn’t just forgotten—it’s actively silenced, a casualty of the larger, more destructive narratives that define Afghanistan in the global imagination.
Ehsas’s Cinematic Revival
Elham Ehsas’s approach to this story is what really sets Forgotten Spaceman apart. Blending documentary and essayistic elements, he doesn’t just recount Momand’s journey; he connects it to his own experience of exile. This raises a deeper question: How do personal and collective memories intersect, especially in the context of diaspora? From my perspective, Ehsas is doing more than telling a story—he’s challenging us to rethink how we frame history. What this really suggests is that moments of hope and achievement can exist even in the darkest chapters of a nation’s past, and it’s our responsibility to seek them out.
The Shadows of Colonialism
One thing that immediately stands out is Ehsas’s commentary on colonialism’s role in shaping our collective memory. In his director’s statement, he mentions how colonialism has ‘damaged our collective memory,’ leaving little room for stories that don’t fit the narrative of destruction. This isn’t just a critique—it’s a call to action. Personally, I think this is one of the most important aspects of the film. It forces us to confront how external forces have dictated which stories get told and which get buried. What makes this particularly fascinating is how Ehsas uses Momand’s story as a lens to examine broader cultural erasure.
Beyond the Trailer: What’s at Stake?
Watching the trailer for Forgotten Spaceman, I was struck by its blend of intimacy and grandeur. It’s not just about a man in space; it’s about the idea of home, belonging, and the stars. But here’s where it gets interesting: the film isn’t just for Afghans or space enthusiasts. It’s a universal story about how we remember—or fail to remember—our shared humanity. In my opinion, this is what makes it a must-watch. It’s a reminder that even in the most fractured narratives, there are moments of beauty and resilience worth celebrating.
A Broader Perspective
If you take a step back and think about it, Forgotten Spaceman is part of a larger trend in cinema where filmmakers are reclaiming forgotten histories. From The Forgotten Spaceman to films like The Man Who Sold His Skin, there’s a growing movement to challenge dominant narratives. What this really suggests is that art has the power to rewrite history—or at least, to offer a counter-narrative. Personally, I think this is one of the most exciting developments in contemporary filmmaking. It’s not just about telling stories; it’s about reshaping how we understand the world.
Final Thoughts
As the countdown to the film’s premiere at Locarno and TIFF begins, I can’t help but feel a sense of anticipation. Forgotten Spaceman isn’t just a film—it’s a conversation starter, a cultural artifact, and a challenge to our collective memory. What makes this particularly fascinating is how it manages to be both deeply personal and universally relatable. In my opinion, this is the kind of storytelling we need more of—stories that remind us of the moments of light in the darkest of times. So, fasten your seatbelts (or whatever they use in spacecraft) and get ready to rediscover a piece of history that was never truly lost—just waiting to be remembered.
