oscar jubis
02-13-2012, 01:48 AM
A Separation (2011)
The fifth feature from writer/director Ashgar Farhadi is likely to be the first Iranian film to win an Oscar. It will probably be the last of numerous awards A Separation has received since its premiere at the 2011 Berlinale. It is the most recent of a long list of Iranian films to receive praise and acclaim at international festivals. What is unique is that the film had a relatively wide and profitable theatrical release in Iran whereas most Iranian films admired abroad had not managed to do that. Farhadi states: "What's the point of making a movie if it can't be seen by the 70 million people in my home country?"
Historically, there has been a separation between Iranian films that are successful abroad and those that Iranian critics and audiences support. For instance, the leading Iranian film journal recently conducted a critics’ poll and no films by Abbas Kiarostami and Jafar Panahi made it into the list of best films. A Separation is likely to become the most successful Iranian film at the U.S. box office. The film appears to transcend not only the divide between local and global reception but also that between commercial and so-called art films. As such, it creates a dialogic space; it provides an opportunity for conversation between entities polarized by political, religious, and aesthetic differences.
A Separation opens with a scene set in a divorce court where Nader and Simin, a middle-class couple married for 14 years, argue whether it is best for their 11-year-old daughter Termeh to live abroad with Simin or stay in Iran with her father and her grandfather, who suffers from dementia. The spouses are framed frontally in a way that equates the points of view of the camera, the judge and the viewer. Nader hires a pregnant woman named Razieh to take care of his father during the day. She brings her 4 year-old daughter to work but does not tell Hodjat, her unemployed husband, because he would object to it on religious grounds. Nader comes home one day to find his father alone and medically distressed. Razieh's neglect of the old man, her miscarriage and an alleged theft compel characters to make moral decisions. The script, performances, and the mise-en-scene are intended to create ambiguity regarding the correctness and appropriateness of these decisions. From the opening scene, the viewer is positioned strategically to ascertain the facts and judge the characters.
The four adult principals strive, with some difficulty, to abide by their moral codes. Basically, Nader has a strong sense of filial duty, Simin privileges honesty, Razieh is guided by Islamic authority and Hodjat by his self-image as a victim of a socially unjust system. However, they are not defined by these sketchy traits. The film’s ambiguity and subtlety immunize the characters against reductive interpretations. Farhadi endeavors to make it difficult to sympathize with one character at the expense of another. However, I think that the characterization of Hodjat as volatile and prone to violence is too extreme to maintain the even-handedness and authorial objectivity that A Separation aims to sustain. This is, perhaps, the film’s only weakness.
The title of the film refers not only to a marital separation but also applies to the socio-economic, political and religious divisions evident in contemporary Iranian society. A Separation provides a very astute dramatization of conflict based on social class and how it interacts with religious practice, education, and other social determinants. It is a very difficult thing to accomplish given the censorship of film content by the Iranian government. The only other Iranian film I have seen that manages to broach this issue is Crimson Gold (2003). It was written by Kiarostami, directed by Panahi, and never shown in an Iranian theater.
A Separation’s moral conscience and, as such, the viewer’s surrogate is Termeh, played by Sarina Farhadi, the director's daughter. The smartly dressed, bespectacled girl is constantly placed in a position to evaluate the actions of the adult characters in the film. Ultimately it will be her decision whether to live with her mother or with her father. The ending is suspended before Termeh decides so the viewer can only speculate. It is a testament to the film’s fairness and complexity that I was deeply invested in Termeh's decision but I did not have a rooting interest.
The fifth feature from writer/director Ashgar Farhadi is likely to be the first Iranian film to win an Oscar. It will probably be the last of numerous awards A Separation has received since its premiere at the 2011 Berlinale. It is the most recent of a long list of Iranian films to receive praise and acclaim at international festivals. What is unique is that the film had a relatively wide and profitable theatrical release in Iran whereas most Iranian films admired abroad had not managed to do that. Farhadi states: "What's the point of making a movie if it can't be seen by the 70 million people in my home country?"
Historically, there has been a separation between Iranian films that are successful abroad and those that Iranian critics and audiences support. For instance, the leading Iranian film journal recently conducted a critics’ poll and no films by Abbas Kiarostami and Jafar Panahi made it into the list of best films. A Separation is likely to become the most successful Iranian film at the U.S. box office. The film appears to transcend not only the divide between local and global reception but also that between commercial and so-called art films. As such, it creates a dialogic space; it provides an opportunity for conversation between entities polarized by political, religious, and aesthetic differences.
A Separation opens with a scene set in a divorce court where Nader and Simin, a middle-class couple married for 14 years, argue whether it is best for their 11-year-old daughter Termeh to live abroad with Simin or stay in Iran with her father and her grandfather, who suffers from dementia. The spouses are framed frontally in a way that equates the points of view of the camera, the judge and the viewer. Nader hires a pregnant woman named Razieh to take care of his father during the day. She brings her 4 year-old daughter to work but does not tell Hodjat, her unemployed husband, because he would object to it on religious grounds. Nader comes home one day to find his father alone and medically distressed. Razieh's neglect of the old man, her miscarriage and an alleged theft compel characters to make moral decisions. The script, performances, and the mise-en-scene are intended to create ambiguity regarding the correctness and appropriateness of these decisions. From the opening scene, the viewer is positioned strategically to ascertain the facts and judge the characters.
The four adult principals strive, with some difficulty, to abide by their moral codes. Basically, Nader has a strong sense of filial duty, Simin privileges honesty, Razieh is guided by Islamic authority and Hodjat by his self-image as a victim of a socially unjust system. However, they are not defined by these sketchy traits. The film’s ambiguity and subtlety immunize the characters against reductive interpretations. Farhadi endeavors to make it difficult to sympathize with one character at the expense of another. However, I think that the characterization of Hodjat as volatile and prone to violence is too extreme to maintain the even-handedness and authorial objectivity that A Separation aims to sustain. This is, perhaps, the film’s only weakness.
The title of the film refers not only to a marital separation but also applies to the socio-economic, political and religious divisions evident in contemporary Iranian society. A Separation provides a very astute dramatization of conflict based on social class and how it interacts with religious practice, education, and other social determinants. It is a very difficult thing to accomplish given the censorship of film content by the Iranian government. The only other Iranian film I have seen that manages to broach this issue is Crimson Gold (2003). It was written by Kiarostami, directed by Panahi, and never shown in an Iranian theater.
A Separation’s moral conscience and, as such, the viewer’s surrogate is Termeh, played by Sarina Farhadi, the director's daughter. The smartly dressed, bespectacled girl is constantly placed in a position to evaluate the actions of the adult characters in the film. Ultimately it will be her decision whether to live with her mother or with her father. The ending is suspended before Termeh decides so the viewer can only speculate. It is a testament to the film’s fairness and complexity that I was deeply invested in Termeh's decision but I did not have a rooting interest.