Let me break this long hiatus with personal notes on A Separation or 'Jodái-e Náder az Simin'. It is such a breathtaking masterpiece. Often when I choose a film or any form of performing arts, I would pick those with strong touches on humanity. A Separation has that ability of awing you at the first glance. It'll, then, grab your hands and run across magnificent discoveries of humanity.
Warning
Spoiler
A Separation opens with Simin (Leila Hatami) and Nader (Peyman Moadi) facing a magistrate (and facing the camera, and hence, facing us). She has applied to leave Iran and wants her daughter, Termeh (Sarina Farhadi, the director's daughter), and husband to come along. But Nader won't go - his father, who suffers from Alzheimer's, needs his care.
Nader goes to work, and Razieh comes into their apartment, her daughter in tow, to tend to the old man. This arrangement doesn't work out, however: Nader returns home early one day to discover his father strapped to the bed, Razieh nowhere to be found.
What follows - an argument, an accusation, a push - is left open to interpretation, with Nader and his family on one side, and the fiery Hodjat and his clan on the other. And all of the chauvinist and religious biases of their country in between.
In those argument, accusation and push, everybody, in his/her utmost honesty on being the humans created for them, is simply trying to protect his/her loved ones, all the way to the points telling lies. The storyteller has put his heart on on telling the truth of the story, in which cultural and classes’ differences are being laid upon the audiences on its naked truth. For example, Razieh has to call her religious leader asking if she could touch an old man, Nader’s father, helping him out on his dirty clothing. She even afraid to swear upon Al-Quran on telling the truth about the pregnancy that she doubts caused by Nader. I was not startled much when I saw this, since I have seen and experienced such conditions. However, the story transcends itself easily and connects to other audiences who have never heard or seen this.
Thus, often audiences/people are afraid of watching or experiencing things outside of their comfort zone, they should realized that the in depth of their understanding on one issue, culture, norms, or people, is not something hard to swallow. By making A Separation specific to Iranian society, the storyteller has ensured his piece can travel the world. The movie has tremendous and compassionate understanding of human behavior, family bonds, and the way ordinary people would respond when they’re forced into a moral quandary. I can’t imagine anyone not being transfixed by it.
Technically, much of A Separation takes place in confined spaces: Nader’s middle-class apartment, the chambers of a courthouse, a hallway where the fateful act takes place. The director uses his camera to emphasize the spaces between people and their spatial proximity to each other. He wants to convey the physical realities of his characters as well as the emotional ones. That’s the sort of detail many filmmakers often overlook, because it doesn’t seem important. But this wise, humane movie wants us to empathize with its characters, and the more we understand their everyday reality, the deeper we’ll be drawn into their lives. A Separation succeeds so well that the end result is pulverizing. Sometimes, in an attempt to do the best we can for the people we love, we end up wreaking irreparable damage.
"If mainstream cinema leaves you soulless, see this film.
If you have a modicum of intelligence, see this film.
If you like great acting and directing, see this film.
If you like great writing and editing, see this film.
If you are a parent, see this film.
If you are a son or daughter, see this film"
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