Tag Archives: A Separation

Everybody Knows (2018): Farhadi Without the Moral Ambiguity

Somehow switching from language to language, despite not being fluent, Asghar Farhadi (A Separation) has made his second non-Iranian and first Spanish feature. The film boasts a powerhouse cast with Penélope Cruz (Volver) as Laura, a Spanish native visiting from Argentina with her daughter for her sister’s wedding, Javier Bardem (No Country for Old Men) as Paco, a family friend who she has a complicated history with, and Ricardo Darin (The Secret in Their Eyes) as Laura’s husband Alejandro. The film begins with a wedding celebration that is interrupted when Laura and Alejandro’s daughter goes missing.

The depth of the family connections are immediate. In a flurry of hugs and kisses, we see siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins, and family friends warmly embracing each other in the sunny Spanish countryside. With little exposition, the mutual affection is established and the picturesque setting and upcoming wedding celebration are almost enough to make you forget that this is an Asghar Farhadi film and that something is about to go wrong. Yet, the seeds of future arguments are hinted at early on. Farhadi’s favorite theme of class divide is made apparent as certain characters talk about their financial difficulties in contrast to the relative success of others and more complicated histories appear to exist beneath the exterior of the welcoming smiles.

The happiness of the initial reunion is skilled misdirection for the events that follow.

The kidnapping leads to long buried secrets being revealed. Since the crime happens during a family gathering, the potential suspects are all loved ones. Past relationships, both personal and professional, resurface to complicate matters and the visible strain the search for the culprit puts on the family bonds is effective. Laura is torn between her love for her family and facing the reality that one of them may be using her daughter, their relative, to extort money from her. Each person she would normally turn to for help is a potential suspect and the mystery creates suspense until the true culprit is finally revealed.

Plot-wise, the film is closest to About Elly, but it falls short of that high benchmark. Both stories follow a young woman who goes missing during an otherwise carefree event, but as Farhadi’s signature plot intricacies reveal themselves, there are a few crucial differences. In the best of Farhadi’s works (About Elly, A Separation, and The Past), he takes a familiar situation and injects a conflict with seemingly endless perspectives where each character’s actions are flawed, but their motivations and thought processes are understandable. In Everybody Knows, the conflict is decidedly less complicated. The relationships are still layered and interesting, but the central event is an actual crime – meaning there are clear villains. These characters may have depth to their motivations, but their extreme actions are never forgivable. In previous films, Farhadi would design his plots so that the central conflict and the ensuing consequences were unfortunate outcomes of humanly flawed thinking that put the viewer in a state of nail-biting moral confusion. There was no one to root for when everyone made mistakes. In structuring his newest film as a whodunit, Farhadi has removed the moral ambiguity and weakened the previously gut-wrenching effect of his trademark multilayered relationships and plot reveals.

3/5 stars.

The Salesman (2017)

Asghar Farhadi (A Separation) was absent from this year’s Oscars due his protest of the recent immigration ban, but his latest release was very much in the room. He won the Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film for the second time with The Salesman. The film stars many of his regular collaborators with Shahab Hosseini (A Separation) as Emad and Taraneh Alidoosti (About Elly) as Rana, a married couple who are actors currently costarring in a production of Death of a Salesman. After their apartment building is damaged in a construction accident, they move to a recently vacated apartment recommended by another actor. Shortly after moving in, when Emad is out, Rana is assaulted by an intruder while taking a shower. The rest of the film deals with the aftermath of this attack as the couple decides what to do next.

The Salesman brings Farhadi into noticeably darker material. While his films are well known for being morally complicated, his previous works did not feature this kind of deliberate criminality. In addition to a series of well-intentioned but disastrous errors, this movie focuses on crime, punishment, and society. Instead of immediately calling the police, they take Rana to the hospital. The question then becomes: is it worth it to go to the police? Rana would have to relive the trauma she faced and potentially suffer public embarrassment. The desire to reduce the pain she has to go through directly conflicts with what is best for catching the criminal.

Rana’s emotional well-being becomes a focal point of the film.

The issue of justice is even more murky. Emad, using personal items left by the attacker, decides he will find him on his own. But to what end? How will he know who actually committed the crime and even if he is able to find the culprit, what will he do? Take him to the authorities or handle the situation on his own? What punishment will fit the crime and would any punishment actually help Rana? The movie confronts these issues as we see the couple’s opposing ideas. Emad wants retribution for Rana but Rana wants to move on and put this behind her more than anything else. As with all Farhadi films, neither character is favored and each position is shown to be flawed. There are no simple choices here, only alternative trade-offs.

Farhadi’s choice to build his film around the famous play has mixed results. Death of a Salesman is a clear classic, but the parallels the director tries to draw between Emad and Rana and Willy and Linda are too forced and too weak to justify the play’s emphasis. Willy’s self-destruction in the pursuit of money isn’t similar enough to Emad’s need for justice, nor is it different enough to create an insightful comparison. The play itself is also shown far more than it needed to be. Perhaps this was done to introduce some variety into the film’s settings. The stage is well shot and expertly lit, but the additional location doesn’t provide much value. Most of Farhadi’s films take place in one or two middle class apartments and it has never been an issue in the past. His morally ambiguous plotting remains enticing, but Farhadi’s decision to rope in an unnecessary element and give it a substantial amount of screen time causes his latest feature to fall short of its otherwise high potential.

4/5 stars.

Fireworks Wednesday (2016)

In 2011, Iranian director Asghar Farhadi won the Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film with A Separation. Despite being his 5th feature film, it was his first to play in the United States. Since then, distributors have been releasing his back catalog starting with About Elly last year and now Fireworks Wednesday, originally released in 2006. As with his previous films, this is a domestic drama. A young woman, Roohi (Taraneh Alidoosti; About Elly), working as a maid through a temp agency goes to the apartment of a couple about to leave for vacation. Their home is a mess with broken glass from an argument the previous night. During the course of the day, Roohi becomes increasingly entangled in the potential infidelity that led to the fight and plays a vital role in alternatingly fanning and dousing the flames.

Fireworks Wednesday uses minute details to drive its tension. Farhadi’s other films also rely on this technique, but it is noticeably less effective here. The film has a much slower start because, unlike the movies that would follow, the main character is not central to the conflict – she is an outsider. The source of the central conflict is not revealed soon enough making the beginning of the film largely irrelevant as it only serves to introduce Roohi to the scenario. This breaks the sympathy found in Farhadi’s later works. Roohi does not need to be involved in the situation so the drama seems forced and avoidable. Her actions seem like the work of a well-intentioned busybody rather than the tragic, but understandable mistakes of the heartbreakingly human characters we have come to expect from the director.

Roohi becomes embedded in this couple’s troubles.

The film lacks the mystery needed to entice the viewer. Roohi’s actions are all shown on screen so instead of the startling revelations of Farhadi’s newest releases, the limited suspense can only be derived from waiting to see how other characters respond which is rarely a surprise. Furthermore, the key details that lead to conflicts are more blatantly telegraphed. Fireworks Wednesday was only the 3rd film from Farhadi so it is likely that he was still honing his craft here. It is also the last film of his to have a co-writer, which may have contributed to the lack of subtlety in the script.

The performances, however, are consistently strong. Even when the story approaches melodrama, the actors are always believable in their desperation. Characters can swing from innocent to guilty and back again without jarring shifts in tone. The young son of the couple is particularly effective during his brief screen time. Farhadi has had a trend of using children as the voice of reason during chaos. While the adults bend facts and focus on the drama from their perspective, the boy clearly articulates the situation in a sweet and tearful explanation to his confused uncle. The director’s strengths with actors are evident even early in his career.

It’s almost unfair to compare this film, or any other for that matter, to the high bar set by Farhadi’s last three projects. Most movies released would come up short because there are few filmmakers working today that can match his intricate plots and subtly escalating tension. Fireworks Wednesday does not have the precision of its successors, but it is a promising rough draft of the template Farhadi would later perfect.

3/5 stars.