After lingering on the flying kite, the camera pans to the adult Amir (Khalid Abdalla), who conveys his emotions with his eyes, infusing inner strength and empathy into his character, providing a perfect contrast to his passive childhood self played by Zekeria Ebrahim.

        In this movie version of Khaled Hosseini’s novel Kite Runner, flashbacks vividly convey how characters change over time, yet still find themselves repeating moments of the past.  Cinematography, music and dialogue portray the characters’ emotional and physical development while instilling the themes of the story – friendship, family, religion, cultural differences and the moral obligation to repair what’s been broken.    
Though controversial due to a rape scene involving adolescents, the film nonetheless strikes a perfect balance between humor and pain as it weaves together a story about how Amir ultimately finds a “way to be good again.”

        Before Amir walks down that difficult path, the film does a beautiful job of depicting young Amir’s close friendship with Hassan (Ahmad Khan Mahmidzada), the son of his family’s servant.  Despite several potential obstacles — vastly different socioeconomic levels, education and most importantly, cultural differences — the two boys have a strong friendship.  The special fruit tree under which Amir reads stories to Hassan — the same story every time — humorously documents this chemistry.

        Medium shots of the two boys display the unity between the two, while at the same time conveying the idea that their friendship exists in a sort of bubble.  Amir and Hassan don’t seem to be fazed by the fact that Amir belongs to the dominant Pashtan culture of Afghanistan, while Hassan is a Hazara, a poor and disrespected minority group in Afghanistan — but the rest of society certainly seems to be.

        The score makes note of this dilemma with upbeat, lively music as Amir and Hassan run and play together in crowded market scenes, shutting out any cultural judgments from the rest of the world.  But the music takes a deeper, darker quality when Amir and Hassan come face to face with three bullies who strongly disapprove of Pashtans and Hazaras’ associations. The camera juxtaposes medium shots of Amir and Hassan, as peaceful passersby, with medium shots of the three bullies, highlighting the cultural division.  

        Another encounter between the two groups of boys, on the day of the biggest kite-flying contest in Kabul, the day both boys have been waiting for, changes everything. Readers squirm in their seats at this point, knowing the significance behind Hassan’s words to Amir as he alone runs for their winning kite: “For you, a thousand times over.” 

        The scene that follows is not overly graphic, but a close-up of the victim’s face during the ensuing assault is so heart-wrenching that holding back tears is nearly impossible.  As a result of the assault, the two friends eventually separate, and the audience sees Amir’s life, for the first time, Hassan-less.  Instead of the medium shots that once captured Amir with others, cinematographer Roberto Schaeffer presents Amir as if from a window — on the outside looking in.  Diagonal lines — whether on houses or cell bars — express this uncertain stage in Amir’s life.    

        At this point in the story, every character has become so multi-dimensional that it’s tougher to evaluate what’s right and what’s wrong.  Should viewers hate Amir?  Is he even a good person?

        The film transitions to focus on Amir’s family, which includes just one man – Baba, his father (Homayoun Ershadi).  Baba serves as a moral anchor, never straying from the right path.  Shots of Baba involving straight lines — whether on walls or of people standing up, listening to him speak — and close-ups accurately capture his courageous qualities.  This strategic use of diagonal lines vs. straight lines provides the perfect accompaniment for moral development.  Through the example of his father’s moral code, Amir grows and develops into someone who finally has some courage.  He becomes a man, meets his wife and cares for his dad on his deathbed.  Everything seems to be going well.  Except for the fact that in San Francisco, he’s completely blocked out his life in Afghanistan.     

        When Amir travels back to Afghanistan to meet up with his father’s ill friend Rahim (Shaun Toub) in order to “make things right,” memories and places haunt him.  As Amir has grown, his land has decayed.  Creepy, unnerving music perfectly sets the mood for the Taliban regime ruling the land, the once-bustling market places full of fear as occasional passersby worry that armed Taliban in trucks will gun them down.  Even Amir’s special tree is stripped of its fruit. These parallels show the split between the younger Amir’s blissful existence and the older Amir’s need to face the truth.  In this landscape of change and fear, Amir finally rights the wrongs that he’d forgotten about for so many years and the film comes full circle.  When he comes back from Afghanistan with an adopted child who means the world to him, he has finally picked up the pieces.  His final words of the film, in which he tells his adoptive son that he’ll retrieve the kite that they flew, assure the audience that Amir has made things right: “For you, a thousand times over.”

        Kite Runner exposes the best and worst of humankind, while teaching the audience about religious and cultural differences.  From the occasional humor about goofy-looking musicians to violent acts that are gut-wrenching to watch, Kite Runner, which is released today, is a must see.