Movies like A
Separation are why I love movies.
Yes, shoot-em-ups are great, and everyone loves a well-executed romantic comedy. But films like A Separation remind us what the medium can do: it can surprise, instruct, entertain. It can make us better people.
A Separation begins crisply. We're in a judge's chamber in an Iranian city. It's intimate and unintimidating, at least on its face. A man and woman sit before the judge. She wants a divorce; he does not. The couple's emigration visa has finally come through, but he has cold feet. He doesn't know who will take care of his Alzheimer's-afflicted father.
“Why,” the judge asks the woman, “are you in such a hurry to leave?”
“Because I want my daughter to have a better life.”
“Your daughter can't have a good life here in Iran?”
“Well, yes, um, of course she can.”
And here it is,
right in the opening scene: the central conflict between the spouses,
the everyday (and manageable) fear of living in a totalitarian state,
the grinding, crushing weights of conflicting responsibilities.
As the ripples of this couple's conflict spread, many around them will be faced with difficult emotional, religious, and legal dilemmas. Their young daughter will have to make tough choices as she balances her duties to her parents with her own judgement and needs. The woman they hire to look after the father as they sort things out must face cultural and religious challenges that would never occur to a Westerner (In one poignant scene, she calls a religious adviser to ask whether it's permitted for her to change the old man's soiled clothing.). Their families, friends, and co-workers will get wrapped up in the situation. Everyone gets hurt, and it's devastating.
There's more: I don't think I will ever set foot in Iran, much less an Iranian courtroom. Even if I could, it would be as a tourist, an escorted guest. Since I don't speak Farsi, I'd never understand what people were saying and I'd never get the flavor of their experience. A Separation gives me onscreen what I could never get in real life: an empathetic, detailed sense of what it would be like to be these people in this place; to eat in their kitchens, drive their cars, and sleep in their beds. It's wonderful, if just for that opportunity.
Most importantly, A Separation is a carefully written, devastatingly performed, beautifully shot film that surprises and challenges its audience at every turn. Yes, the film is basically a domestic drama. Nevertheless, it had me biting my nails and hanging on every word. It's domestic drama, but it's also great drama, the kind of movie that makes you forget about the passage of time.
In short, A Separation earns its Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film. It is a masterpiece, and not to be missed.
Yes, shoot-em-ups are great, and everyone loves a well-executed romantic comedy. But films like A Separation remind us what the medium can do: it can surprise, instruct, entertain. It can make us better people.
A Separation begins crisply. We're in a judge's chamber in an Iranian city. It's intimate and unintimidating, at least on its face. A man and woman sit before the judge. She wants a divorce; he does not. The couple's emigration visa has finally come through, but he has cold feet. He doesn't know who will take care of his Alzheimer's-afflicted father.
“Why,” the judge asks the woman, “are you in such a hurry to leave?”
“Because I want my daughter to have a better life.”
“Your daughter can't have a good life here in Iran?”
“Well, yes, um, of course she can.”
And here it is,
right in the opening scene: the central conflict between the spouses,
the everyday (and manageable) fear of living in a totalitarian state,
the grinding, crushing weights of conflicting responsibilities.As the ripples of this couple's conflict spread, many around them will be faced with difficult emotional, religious, and legal dilemmas. Their young daughter will have to make tough choices as she balances her duties to her parents with her own judgement and needs. The woman they hire to look after the father as they sort things out must face cultural and religious challenges that would never occur to a Westerner (In one poignant scene, she calls a religious adviser to ask whether it's permitted for her to change the old man's soiled clothing.). Their families, friends, and co-workers will get wrapped up in the situation. Everyone gets hurt, and it's devastating.
There's more: I don't think I will ever set foot in Iran, much less an Iranian courtroom. Even if I could, it would be as a tourist, an escorted guest. Since I don't speak Farsi, I'd never understand what people were saying and I'd never get the flavor of their experience. A Separation gives me onscreen what I could never get in real life: an empathetic, detailed sense of what it would be like to be these people in this place; to eat in their kitchens, drive their cars, and sleep in their beds. It's wonderful, if just for that opportunity.
Most importantly, A Separation is a carefully written, devastatingly performed, beautifully shot film that surprises and challenges its audience at every turn. Yes, the film is basically a domestic drama. Nevertheless, it had me biting my nails and hanging on every word. It's domestic drama, but it's also great drama, the kind of movie that makes you forget about the passage of time.
In short, A Separation earns its Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film. It is a masterpiece, and not to be missed.
