Camels, caravans.

Nomads on horseback.

Fragile fabrics, sensuous spices.

Teas to trade, fragrances evoking exoticism.

The allure of the ancient Silk Road.

What wonders await in Uzbekistan?

Hi, I'm Stephanie.

I'm a 33-year- old American filmmaker and a complete cinema nerd.

I love the oldies, the goodies, the New Waves, or Golden Age, you name it, I'm in.

On my 33rd birthday, I decided to travel the world to meet and document other filmmakers my age.

Travel with me to over 33 countries to meet the storytellers who are dynamically challenging the status quo of the world today.

Together, we will watch their films, hear their stories, engage with their cultures, and perhaps, learn a little bit about life, love, cinema, history, and me!

[in Uzbek] I am Mukhlisa Azizova.

[in Uzbek] I am from Tashkent, Uzbekistan.

[in Uzbek] I am 33-years-old.

33-year-old Tashkent born filmmaker, Mukhlisa Azizova, is the first National Film Commissioner of Uzbekistan.

A presidential appointment and rare honor.

A woman in charge.

In 2016, Mukhlisa directed a big budget, action thriller movie, "Scorpion," which broke box office records and became the highest grossing film in Uzbek's cinema history.

I took an instant liking to Mukhlisa.

It's hard not to.

She has a sparkling and commanding presence.

Mukhlisa is perhaps one of the most outwardly ambitious filmmakers I've come across.

[in Uzbek] I started with photography first [in Uzbek] When I was little, [in Uzbek] at the age of 13, I asked my parents to buy me a camera.

Then they purchased it for me.

My mom gave this to me on my 13th birthday.

Why did I need a camera?

I would read a lot of books, and then I would search for those characters in real life.

I wanted to photograph it.

Back then, I couldn't imagine shooting with a movie camera.

Therefore, I chose photography.

Also, at that time, there were no plastic bottles.

Only empty glass water bottles were available for recycling.

I would collect and sell those bottles to people doing bottle pickup jobs.

They would give me a little money, and I would use that money to print photos.

Uzbekistan, with a youthful population of about 34 million, is a double landlocked country bordered by Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan, Afghanistan and Turkmenistan.

That's a lot of "Stans.” The Uzbek SSR, as it was formerly called as a Republic of the Soviet Union, gained its independence in 1991.

This Central Steppes nation has had only two presidents since independence.

The first, Islam Karimov, remained at the helm until his death in 2016.

His successor, Shavkat Mirziyoyev, is said to be opening things up a bit, including tourist visas, lucky for me!

And yes, the film industry.

You could say that Uzbekistan at the foothills of the Himalayas is the heart of Central Asia's Silk Road, once explored by Marco Polo himself.

[in Uzbek] Yes, [in Uzbek] that was my first step.

[in Uzbek] I always knew that I should [in Uzbek] pursue filmmaking.

I definitely knew I wanted to try filmmaking.

When I turned 17, I told myself that I would definitely go to art school.

But my parents didn█t approve of that.

At the insistence of my parents, I enrolled in Medical School.

I ran away from medicine right after the first surgery.

After I left medicine, I prepared to enter art school.

Then, I started editing different short videos.

I also did photography.

Then, I got into the film industry.

Tashkent, the capital of Uzbekistan, lies on the border with Kazakhstan.

Historically, Tashkent, which translates to "Stone Village," was a significant trade center connecting Europe with Asia.

Culturally, Tashkent has a myriad of ethnic influences, having been conquered by the Arabs in the eighth century, the Mongols in the 13th, later ruled by the Timurids and Shaybanids, and had a brief stint of independence before the Russians captured the city in 1865.

Walking through the streets of Tashkent, I admire this eclectic mix of influences.

Awestruck by the old Islamic architecture.

Stupefied by the Russian style monuments, and enamored by the hints of European influences sprinkled throughout.

I explored the massive and colorful Chorsu Market, and took time for reflection at the Barak Khan Madrassah.

With Mukhlisa at the helm, the Uzbekistan National Film Commission was created in 2018, and aims to promote domestic cinematography, film locations, cinema tourism and a rebate system.

Mukhlisa and her team, which includes her cinematographer, husband and Film Commission co-founder, Oybek Abdushukurov, have made their presence known at the top film markets around the globe.

A shining example of Mukhlisa's goals for the Film Commission is the movie "Hot Bread," written and directed by Umid Khamdamov; chosen to be the first Uzbek film submitted to the Oscars.

Cinemagraphically utilizing Uzbekistan's unique locations, "Hot Bread" is a coming-of-age tale of a teenage girl from Tashkent, who was forced to live with her strict grandmother in a rural village despite her desire to return to life in the big city.

I wondered, with Mukhlisa as a representative of this highly regulated institution, would we be able to see her true colors and get to know her inner most desires as a filmmaker on the rise?

And what is your wish for the world to see from Uzbekistan's cinema?

[in Uzbek] At least, I really want [in Uzbek] the world to know that [in Uzbek] our cinema has [in Uzbek] its own long history.

At the time when [the first] film was made here, not all countries could produce films.

This year, it will be 100 years since the first film was shot.

I want them to know this, about the cinema of Uzbekistan.

[film clip of singing in Uzbek] Being in the Film Commission, I want a major Blockbuster movie to be shot in Uzbekistan.

And through this, I want our historical places to be seen on the big screens in the whole world.

It is my both personal dream, and my dream as the Film Commissioner.

My second dream is to make Uzbekistan known, at least, through locations and cinema.

What are you proud of then in terms of the Film Commission?

Nothing yet.

I haven't achieved all my goals yet.

Film Commission aside, what is your full desire?

Good question.

[Aziz, in English] Good question.

I don█t even know.

[Aziz, in English] Actually, it█s a tender topic... [Mukhlisa in Uzbek] Indeed a difficult question.

[Aziz in English] It█s a very tender topic and [Aziz in English] she█s a little bit... [Aziz in English] She has to maybe think about that.

Since my time in Uzbekistan, I've thought about this moment a lot.

The question of personal desires is one I think about for myself, and I'm always curious to hear from others.

Maybe it's my upbringing, or where I'm from, that drives me to ask such questions.

In Uzbekistan, where much of society is centered around law and order, life is lived with an almost militaristic discipline.

So maybe there's not much room for philosophizing?

Maybe these types of existential questions simply are not asked?

Or maybe it's too personal, too revealing?

I've always wondered, does Mukhlisa truly not know the answer for herself?

Did she not want to share it?

Was she not comfortable, or simply, it does not matter?

As if Muhklisa isn't busy enough in her professional and personal life, she was also enrolled in film school, getting a second degree at the Uzbekistan State Art and Cultural Institute, where I got a behind-the-scenes tour from the Dean, visiting an Animation class, Ballet class, Acting class, Improv class.

And I got to sneak in on the dress rehearsal for a big cultural performance being put on in full Uzbek glory.

[Cultural Singing] [rhythmic drumming] “Salam Alaikum” [Students█ Greeting] Unlike other universities, we are instilled with a very strong culture from the first day of study.

For example, you are supposed to greet everyone, from the oldest to the youngest.

You should be well-mannered and always smiling.

Students of the Arts and Culture stand out from those in other universities.

They are very cultured.

[Aziz] If you notice, they are all greeting you.

[Stephanie] Yeah... Yeah.

If you don't greet people; if you don't respect older people, there is a kind of a "penalty" inside of the university.

And there are very strict rules about that.

The dance class was all women, but the the first two classes we saw were all men.

Do you think there's still a cultural divide between disciplines?

Yes.

We mainly have male students in animation and camera departments [Aziz] Is it a cultural thing?

Yes, it is cultural.

It is strange to see women carrying a movie camera.

[Stephanie] Do you think that will change over time?

I really hope so.

It was very useful for me to go to art school, because I learned how to work with people.

A film director should be good at working with an audience.

When you make a feature film, for instance, many people know your cast.

You have to be able to convince them of what you're saying.

Before, I was completely different.

I was shy in public and my speech was not that good.

The best thing I learned from school was to work with an audience, and improve my speaking skills.

What types of ideas, stories, does she want to.... is she most interested in making her films about?

Detective.

[In Uzbek] If I hadn't worked in cinematography, I think I would have become a prosecutor, because I like to study people.

For example, the most interesting thing in a detective story is that a character deceives or tries to deceive a large audience.

In fact, this is not the case.

I like to expose this and reflect it in my movies.

When I was at medical school, I was only interested in taking psychology classes.

You did two short films, and then a feature film of your own?

I made my second short film inspired by Napaleon Hill█s book “Think and Grow Rich.” Then I came up with the character in my film “She.” Thus, my character in the film is a scriptwriter.

The main archetype of his work is his wife.

The events that occur in the script begin to happen in the life of the author himself, as he lived in that scenario, he wanted it, saw it, and imagined it.

After this film, I got recognition, and started getting commissions.

Considered the birthplace of cinema in Central Asia, Uzbekistan had its first film screening in 1897, and began shooting its own films in the early 1900s.

In 1924, Uzbekistan became the first Central Asian country to open own film studio, Bukhkino, in Bukhara.

Almost 100 years later, Uzbekistan is building a brand new studio in hopes to lure in foreign Blockbusters.

I was lucky enough to get a sneak-peak behind-the-scenes tour of this evolving space.

During World War Two, the Uzbek Republic became the center of Soviet film production, as the fighting pushed Soviet authorities to relocate from Moscow.

Uzbekistan proved prime location for moviemaking in a land far removed from the geopolitics of war.

The 1960s through '80s was the Golden Age of Uzbek cinema, when censorship under the Soviet Union was a little more relaxed.

Popular directors from this era were Shukrat Abbasov, who was heralded as one of the founders of Uzbek cinema.

Earning the honorary title, People's Artists of the Uzbek SSR, known for “The Talk of the Neighborhood," "You Are Not An Orphan," and "Tashkent, A City Of Bread;" films which depict the glory of Uzbek people in historically hard times.

Elyor Ishmukhamedov led the Golden Age with "Tenderness,” and, “The Lovers," while Ali Khamraev's films made the Golden Age shine.

Spanning four decades with "White White Storks," "Man Follows Bird," "The Bodyguard," "Garden of Desires," and "Bo Ba Bu" in 1998, which screened to acclaim at the Shanghai Film Festival.

At the height of this Golden Age the popular Indian co-production "Alibaba And The Forty Thieves" was filmed in Uzbekistan.

"Alibaba" was one of the biggest international projects filmed during the Soviet era.

After the fall of the Soviet Union, filmmaking declined in the 1990s By 2008, a New Wave of Uzbek cinema emerged, vis a vis B-list movies such as "Super Bride," a Bollywood style film.

Some critics complained that Uzbek cinema was moving towards the trend of quantity over quality.

The fear that Uzbek cinema prioritizes quantity over quality could not be further from the truth in viewing Mukhlisa's debut feature film, "Scorpion," the quality of which I humbly admit, blew me away.

This big budget, cinemagraphically stunning, action-espionage flick, centers around the relationship between a Uzbek intelligence officer and his brother, thought to be dead, but actually a member of the terrorist organization the hero aims to bring down.

"Scorpion" was filmed throughout Uzbekistan, Morocco, and Russia.

This is the story about brothers and their relationship.

Again, my emphasis was on their childhood.

Their relationship was ruined while they were young, and we see how much it affected every step they took later.

The action you see in the film is to create an atmosphere.

In fact, however, it is a story about brothers.

There were rumors that a woman would not be able to make such a film.

“She's just a doll that█s sitting somewhere nearby.” “In fact, others are filming.” “A woman can█t shoot like this.” Usually, film directors are less known because actors have screen presence.

But after this movie, people started to recognize me, and take an interest in me.

I don█t really know the reason.

To become a female director in Uzbekistan, I need to love cinematography ten times more than male directors.

For example, on the film set, you still work predominantly with men.

As the director, your crew should do what is requested.

Culturally, it is a little difficult for men to accept such an approach.

For instance, when a male director asks to set up lights in a certain scene, the crew will do it.

And when a woman director asks to do this same thing, she has to ask five or six times and prove why she wants it like that.

You must be able to convince the whole team that it is the right decision.

Mukhlisa█s cinema role model, director Kamara Kamalova, was a prominent filmmaker in Uzbek█s Golden Age.

Born in Bukhara in 1938, Kamara got her start as an animator and studied Directing at university.

And in 1965, became the Director of Uzbek Film, and is most known for “Bitter Berry,” “The Savage,” and “Everything Was Covered With Snow,” a coming-of-age tale dealing with death and loneliness.

When Kamara Kamalova made her first film, she was told that the film had some scenes that contradicted the core mentality of our society.

She received a lot of negative feedback for that film.

You make your film and show it to the public as if you are introducing your child.

Imagine your reaction when they say “your child is ugly.” Each film you make is like your child.

Overcoming such obstacles, and then to step back into shooting the next movie is very difficult.

She makes movies every two or three years; she films non-stop.

Her inner core shows a very strong woman.

She never gave up and never left the set.

In one of her major film projects, her son played the main character.

In the middle of the project, her son died in a traffic accident.

Even that tragic event could not make her leave cinematography.

It is an inspiration to me.

Yes, it was difficult.

I can tell you that I had to skip filming.

On the tenth day of filming ”Scorpion,” when I was in Bukhara, my mother passed away.

I had a lot of phone calls, but I didn█t hear them, because I usually turn off my phone while working.

It was a terrible blow to me.

We shot for 10 days and there were 30 more days ahead.

It was very difficult to get over, because my mom was very supportive of my first major film.

She read the script of this film asked when filming would begin, and what characters the actors would play.

It was my mother who got me interested in cinema from an early age.

She would read me books.

She purchased a camera for me to take pictures.

She always supported me wholeheartedly.

I really wanted her to be at the premiere of my first film, my first project, my debut, and I would give anything for that.

It was heartbreaking.

I started to blame myself more and more, because I was unable to devote time to my family.

Now, I came to realize that the film industry is very selfish.

You have to commit to it for 24 hours.

Since I have very little time for anything else, I am changing day by day, and from day to day, there is an increase in self-blame.

It feels like I am moving away from everyone, and going deeper into this industry.

The highlight of our time in Uzbekistan was traveling to Samarkand with Mukhlisa.

One of the oldest cities in Central Asia, Samarkand is the epicenter of the historic Silk Road, a network of trade routes connecting the Mediterranean to Asia, and place which most inspires Mukhlisa.

I really saw Mukhlisa's personality shine while we visited the historic sites around Samarkand.

She's proud of her culture and history, and wants the world to see these locations come alive on screen.

Archeologists date civilization in Samarkand back to 1500 BCE.

It was conquered by Alexander the Great in 329 BCE.

Later ruled by the Turks, the Arabs, and the Persians.

Throughout my time in Uzbekistan I was greeted with enthusiasm by locals; American tourists being a novelty here.

I must say, I felt a bit like a celebrity being regularly asked for my photograph, and most memorably, being serenaded by a group of inquisitive school boys on a class field trip.

[Boys singing] So, what does it mean to you to be 33?

In our culture, most women when they reach their thirties, feel like their life is over, and that they are finished with their possibilities.

Around the world, for example, the age of 40 is considered to be midlife in Psychology.

At 40, people start questioning themselves, analyzing their lives and making comparisons.

It is a hard age.

In our culture, this age is 30, because we get married and give birth relatively early.

Everything happens fast here.

At 30, I've been through that too.

I looked back and realized that I was on the right track.

It is very personal.

We█re different people as long as our parents are alive.

When they pass away, we change.

Before, when my mother was alive I knew all my goals.

After losing her, my enormous motivation seemed to leave me.

I became an adult woman.

Back then, even if it were a small plan or achievement, I would run to share it with my mother and she would get excited Ever since, I ask myself what can I do to be happy?

I am happy with what I am doing, but I can█t bring back that rejoice.

Do you understand what I mean?

Let me tell you this.

When I received the National Award for the first time, I thought it was a great award for my age.

I took the statue home and gave it to my mother.

She was so happy.

She started calling everyone.

Usually, the award ceremony finishes late.

It was midnight.

She went outside with the statue and proudly told all the people passing by, that her daughter had received the award.

Even if I were to win an Oscar, I█d be happy, but I█d be happier if my mother were still alive to share it with me.

In travel, it's rarer and rarer to find those places that surprise and excite.

With the likes of globalization and gentrification taking root in cities worldwide, many places I visit begin to blend together, take on the shape and form of others around the world.

But Uzbekistan offers one of those pure travelers' delights; of feeling unspoiled.

Different from anything I've encountered in my world back home.

From the pavlov, the delectable cuisine; to the smiling faces of the people I met; and the heart stopping architecture.

More than the visceral beauties of Samarkand and its Silk Road allure, the enigmatic Mukhlisa will stay with my memories.

Confident, strong, motivated.

She is a woman on a mission.

Moving mountains to make her mark, to create a legacy of cinema, to highlight a culture and heritage she passionately believes in.

And to bring the world to her doorstep through the silver screen.

To learn more about the Cinema Nomad Filmmakers and dive deeper into the exciting world of global cinema, visit our website CinemaNomad.TV