metropolefilms.com

Oscar-winning A Separation is a movie that discreetly avoids the inveterate handicap plaguing large-scale commercial films. While Hollywood blockbusters typically attempt to tell cinematic epics scaled to Homeric proportions, they falter when sincere subject matter is lost amidst the one-upsmanship clashes between special effects, sentimentality, or the primordial intensity of the leads. I don’t bemoan the lost days of artistry in cinema, but merely note that most films communicate with us through a rudimentary vernacular of plot and visual elements. This approach necessitates that movies be neutered of the simplest and most candid events with which viewers can identify. Although there are on-screen attributes and acts which ignite in us a backyard-fireworks sort of excitement, there is rarely a consistent emotion or idea we can relate to. If something manages to rise above the fray in these films, it seems to me to stem from the supporting talent and the wings rather than the leads. 

By comparison, A Separation is surprisingly refreshing. Asghar Farhadi, who wrote and directed the film, tells the story of a middle-class family’s dynamic thrown asunder by an opportunity to leave Iran. While Simin (Leila Hatami), the mother of the family, is insistent on using this chance to give their teenage daughter a more promising future, her husband, Nader (Peyman Maadi), refuses to abandon his decrepit father, who requires constant attention. The discord leads Simin to leave her husband, and Nader is forced to hire a pregnant woman as his father’s ward, whom he physically throws out due to negligence. The bulk of the film plays out after she miscarries and Nader is charged with the murder of the unborn child, with Farhadi clearly interested not in the antecedents, but in the trial and the reactions it elicits.

The film’s singular strength is its distaste for grandiosity. Whether this modesty stems from the Iranian cinematic tradition, the script, or the direction is uncertain. I am, however, averse to the “foreign cinema is art” trope, and believe that credit is due to Farhadi. The film is a testament to the impressive effect that abstemious storytelling can have when combined with a calm portrayal of events.

Despite my enjoyment of A Separation, one can’t help but suspect that some of the characters were simple cutouts. Farhadi uses his actors as one-dimensional tools to depict modern Iran’s mix of secularism and religion amidst unfortunate happenstance. Nader, despite being accused of murder, never raises his voice above the volume typical to the retelling of any dinner party anecdote. His daughter, too, is somewhat insipid throughout the whole ordeal. It is regrettable that Farhadi focused on the circumstances within the script so pedantically while attempting to tell his story, and that he did not see fit to (or perhaps could not) hone these performance mainstays. If you can keep yourself from paying attention to this, the film is much more enjoyable.

Considering the surfeit of pretentiousness in a good deal of today’s films, A Separation is worth seeing. Even if you pledge allegiance to more traditional Western fare, it’s always nice to cleanse the palate.