Divorce sucks, whether it happens here in the US, or in the houses of
Iran. The separation of families is a pox upon all nations, causing generations
of children to be raised in schizophrenic environments in which parents wage
war over loyalty and pride. I can say all this with certainty because divorce
touched my home, too, and wrecked my children. The relief I felt getting out of
a cancerous relationship is nowhere near the grief my kids have felt having to
constantly judge my ex-wife and myself in an attempt to rediscover their places
in a fractured world.
It is this idea that is at the heart of Ashgar Farhadi’s A Separation. This film is about the
effects of a divorce on the lives of everyone, not just the married couple or
their daughter, but on society at large. There’s a certain amount of disorder
with divorce, and this film captures that disorder and provides a wonderful
scenario that takes it to a logical and personal conclusion.
We open with Nader (Peyman Moadi) and his wife, Simin (Leila Hatami),
sitting before a judge in their homeland of Iran, discussing divorce. Simin
wants one because Nader is unwilling to relocate their family to another
country. She does not want to raise their 11-year old daughter, Termeh (Sarina
Farhadi), in oppressive Iran. Nader wants to stay for the sake of his father,
who is at home, stricken with Alzheimer’s. Both have valid arguments for their
sides, but neither wish to compromise, so Nader reluctantly grants Simin her
divorce, but not custody of Termeh.
Because of Simin’s decision, she leaves the home, which requires Nader
to hire a woman to take care of his father during the day. He hires Razieh
(Sareh Bayat), a pregnant woman with a child, who needs the job to pay off her
unemployed husband’s creditors. Razieh does not inform her husband she is
working for a newly single man – which would be against Islamic law – and this sets
the stage for the first major plot point. Razieh struggles to take care of
Nader’s father, and her pregnancy doesn’t make matters easier. A choice she
makes eventually pits her family against Nader’s broken one in another trial
that has very high stakes for everyone.
A Separation is a remarkably
astute character study, consistently framing its characters in tight, closed
shots that cause us to focus on their faces during these challenging times. Our
sympathies are with everyone, even Razieh’s tempestuous husband, who resorts to
threatening Termeh as she leaves school in his desperation for justice. Like
the judge at the beginning and end of the film, we are asked to look at all
sides of the situation and come to our own conclusions. And the ambiguous
ending does not let us off the hook, because ultimately, divorce does not have
winners or losers, only losers and victims.
The fact that this film is set in Iran may cause some audience members
to feel uncomfortable because of the distinct differences between or two
cultures (and, admittedly, since until recently we have been at war with them).
One of the best things about A Separation,
though, is how universal it is. The characters are separated by a number of
invisible, cultural lines: class, gender, age, profession. These are dividing
lines for every nation, so while there are some marked differences in terms of
the justice system (nary a lawyer to be found – Iran may be more advanced than
we are in that department), the treatment of women, and driving laws, these
differences only serve to underscore all the similarities. Contexts may change,
but universal truths never do.
Farhadi is an excellent director, and A Separation is a brilliant film. The last shot alone, as the
credits roll over it, is a masterpiece of composition, summarizing everything
that came before, and prophesying everything to come in the lives of these
characters. It reveals that no matter who wins, no one does, and that divorce
upsets the natural order of things. When this film hits DVD/Blu-ray, Netflix,
or Video on Demand, it should be a must-see.
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