A Separation is an Iranian film about a chain of events that lead to two families clashing over the exact chain of events that had unintended consequences for both sides. Critically acclaimed Asghar Farhadi directed the film, which was widely considered the best film in 2011. This film and The Salesman have been in my queue forever, and the only reason that I have not seen these films sooner is because the previews stress me out. His work feels real as if it could happen and fraught with foreboding. I did see Everybody Knows, his first English language film, in theaters because it was playing near me so it did add a soupcon of increased interest in finally seeing more of his films.
Unfortunately I saw A Separation fairly early during the global pandemic, and I know that I found it hard to concentrate on the film even though I was as engrossed as I could be and wanted to know what was going to happen next. Intellectually I understood that Farhadi crafted a story that felt organic, but also showed viewers without being pedantic or preachy the issues that ail his homeland, but subjectively I held it at arm’s length and never got lost in the film.
A Separation shows the real-life burden and practical complications of living in a theocracy. Even if every character shares the same faith, the practical interpretation varies widely depending on class, gender and age. As an outsider, the regional arbitrariness of what is considered a criminal act deserving of punishment hammered home the lesson that lives could be destroyed with zero criminal intent. Please do not confuse these observations as an American turning up her nose at a foreign society. By looking outside my frame of reference, it teaches me more about my own moral biases and what I consider appropriate behavior by asking me to compare and contrast how the events of this film would play out in our country. In many ways, we are barbarians because we probably would not take any of it seriously in spite of the devastating effect that each event has on its characters. I would never insist on going near someone who thought that I wronged him or her, but these characters frequently put themselves in jeopardy by sincerely expressing sympathy. It may be the right thing to do, but this film’s uncomfortable proximity of victims and perpetrators, which constantly shift throughout the film, actually exacerbates the situation. Community is important, but it feels more like a construct as the movie unfolds. It feels more like obligation than sincere warmth. Real community were the moments between the children or when an adult showed tenderness to another’s child.
As a lawyer, I normally despise movies that culminate in a trial if used as a way to vindicate a character or as a kind of stage for characters to deliver monologues that result in the perfect decision that resolves all issues and changes hearts. A Separation feels like life-achingly inadequate to deliver a verdict that bears a scintilla of resemblance to justice. The proceedings feel shabby and frustrating. The opening scene depicts the judge’s point of view at the first event that started the chain reaction. Farhadi is brilliant at deliberately showing the quotidian steps that it takes to complete work, and the court is just another workplace like the middle-class family’s home. In the human realm, perfection is fiction, and even an adequate solution seems a distant dream. No one is happy, and the only certainty is the gradual disillusionment of the children.
I saw A Separation soon after seeing, Thappad, an Indian film that shows once a woman’s labor leaves the home, it has a ripple effect throughout society that can culminate in complete upheaval. No one (hopefully) believes in slavery in the abstract, but when women quit their unpaid jobs as caretakers, a typical response is outrage that she ditched her responsibilities. Wives are expected to keep a household functional and make her husband happy, but the wives in this film cannot do everything.
A Separation revealed that I am a horrible person because even though Farhadi intends for his audience to empathize with each character, I was not as sympathetic to the woman who assumed the wife’s roles as Farhadi wanted. I wanted them to fire her immediately because unlike the husband, we see how she executes her job. She is a disaster, clearly doing a job to pay the bills but unable to do so effectively. I was surprised that that none of the characters seen on screen died. Farhadi’s films always heighten the tension and leave me expecting the worst. My imagination is far worse than his stories.
My main criticism of A Separation is that Farhadi’s narrative technique seemed deliberately coy regarding a crucial detail that gets omitted until the denouement. I am probably a philistine for finding any flaw in the story, but when he did not show what happened in the busy streets, I knew that he was reserving that moment for later and it was crucial to the plot. It was unnecessarily heavy-handed and suspenseful as opposed to the majority of the film which feels as if it unfolds organically although it is carefully crafted. The obvious omission undercut his goal of being sympathetic to everyone. I understand that he did not reveal everything because he thought that the character would suffer condemnation earlier if the viewers knew the whole story, but I think that there was a way for Farhadi to show the whole story and still retain suspense and shifting allegiances. I am uncertain if several turning points got lost in translation, but there were answers explicitly shown throughout the film which I did not realize the implications of while I was watching the film and only discovered after I started reading about the film afterwards. The moments were subtle, understated and almost indiscernible. Farhadi is excellent at being explicit yet still leaving plenty of room for different interpretations like the characters. He is capable of creating his own Rashomon style.
I am not talking about the men in A Separation because I feel as if it would give away too much detail about the story. Having two sets of couples immediately sets them up as foils and makes comparison instinctual. The way that they treat others seems strikingly different, but the result of their actions belies their character or does it? The controversial point did not result in outrage at that character. I may have acted similarly, but people are fragile even if you engage in the lightest physical contact, which is probably why how a character reacts to the disproportionate, unintended result is more crucial. The central question is now that you know what the consequences are, do you try to make things right or protect yourself? It is a spectrum, but there is no way to come out of the situation without a stain on your soul.
A Separation did not match the hype, but I enjoyed it. I wish that I knew the reaction to the film within Iran. Were the actors instantly recognizable and had associations that affected how they saw the characters?