A Separation
, from Iran, is the most intense, informative, though claustrophobic, domestic drama you are likely to see in years. Director Asghar Farhadi, sets this 2011 film in modern day Tehran. The story takes us through about a week in the lives of five central characters and a host of supporting players, not one of them not interesting.
A modern couple, Nader [ Peyman Maadi ] and Simin [ Leila Hatami ] are in the throes of separation. She, a professor driven to leave Tehran for the good of their daughter, Termeh [ Sarina Farhadi, actual daughter of the director,] has a job lined up and the visa, very difficult to get, in hand; it will expire in a few weeks. He, with an aged father, well descended into Alzheimers, to care for, at home. Termeh, 11 years old, 6th grade, serious student, is caught in the middle. The film opens as they argue their sides before a judge, no lawyers, just impassioned speech, asking him to cut their gordian knot. Nader will not contest a divorce but he will not allow Termeh to go; Simin will not go without her. When Simin moves in with her parents in another part of town, trying to force the issue, and a caretaker, Razieh [Sareh Bayat] is brought in, the difficulties, brought on by very human actions, with which we are all intimately familiar , begin to spin out of control.
The caretaker with a four year old daughter and an out-of-work husband is desperate for income. She commutes over an hour to get to the job. Not saying she is pregnant, and a very observant Muslim, she is confronted with the old man’s wetting himself and needing to be washed and changed, on her first day. She has to call for religious advice before she can help him. Leaving him tied to his bed to make a hurried mid-day errand the man heaves himself onto the floor. Nader and Termeh come in to find him tangled up, without oxygen and near death. When Rezieh and her daughter return, Nader explodes in fury, doubled when he finds money missing After she refuses to go without being paid he pushes her out the door.
She and her husband bring Nader to court on charges of causing her miscarriage and demanding that most un-western of remedies, “blood money.”
The case winds up in the most eye-opening scenes, in what we might call community-courts: small rooms presided over by judges, in open collared, rumpled shirts, in which the parties are allowed to argue their side of the story, with plenty of interruptions, finger pointing, insults and mild reproofs from the judge. Very very informal by western standards. “Do you have a witness for that? Go get her.” All this taking place with police near-by, sometimes shackled to a defendant, the hallways between the courtrooms and holding cells, jammed with people.
As the story progresses we see hints of class division in Iran — the better spoken defendant and less educated plaintiff– the impact of religion and culture in the almost universal wearing of headscarves, and many chadors, even while doing housework, even on 6th grade girls. We see the importance of deeply held religious belief on the caretaker, as she is asked to swear on the Koran the truth of her accusation. Interestingly too, the behavior of the women in the film is uniformly not-submissive, whatever views we outsiders may have from news reports of the abuse of Muslim women by men. Surely it happens, but these women are argumentative, sure of themselves, willing to take on their men-folk. The one serious show of violence is of a man to himself, a wild self-beating as he sees his hopes for getting out of the financial misery he is in, collapse.
We see a council of elders and neighbors assembled for a final settlement, pushing both sides to compromise and move on. In a wrenching set of scenes, it fails, even as truth trumps compromise.
Most impressively in many ways, we see an 11 year old girl being thrust headlong into the adult world, already as determined as her parents, and unflinching in her quest for the truth, in all its Rashoman faces. We see her in school, and with some of her teachers and tutors. We see her alone with the judge as he asks which parent she wants to live with, and feel the stone in her heart pushing the tears down her face. A coming-of-age story like very few we see.
There are a few loose ends as the film comes to a unique, non resolved movie ending. Perhaps little details are lost in the cultural exchanges. Sometimes the tight, handheld camera work, the neo-documentary shots of faces through out of focus fence poles, reflecting car windows, gets in the way as the brain sorts for the information of the scene. But as a close, frank look at families and culture you just can’t do better. Roger Ebert has called it the best movie of the year. It is the winner of a host of awards, including a Golden Globe [with interesting interview], presented in mid-January.
It continues for me my admiration of Iranian cinema. I haven’t seen one which didn’t impress me. This, though not as lyrical, nor exotic as others, goes to the top of the list, in good part because we see exactly our own familiar patterns of living in a compressive, fast paced world, taking place amongst those we know little of. Excellent.
It’s a pity none of his other movies, also highly acclaimed, are not easily available in the U.S.
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