A Separation, strikes empathy to the children who have witnessed their parents divorce. In the film, we see Termeh, their daughter, struggle from the initial denial that her parents are fighting, to seeing the brutal ugliness of both their derailment, once a new trial is opened with another family. Termeh is the real protagonist of this story, because she is the only victim to the crime of narcissistic, egotistical, stubborn adults that lie to ensure their own safety from lawful prosecution.
The film takes upon multiple themes of familial relationships during a divorce, class division, political Iranian representation, and how gender roles play in Iranian society. The first scene known as the first of two scenes (the other being the final scene) to comprise the frame story, depicted Iranian culture’s hierarchy of having men upheld to a higher standard compared to women. We see this when Simin’s (Lelia Hatami) request for a passport for her daughter gets denied, since it requires the father’s approval for any underage minor. It is also reinforced with the relationship of Razieh (Sareh Bayat) and Hojjat (Shahab Hosseini). Hojjat is shown frustrated and angry when he discovers his wife got a job as a caretaker, without consulting him about her opportunity to take the position. It was also briefly threatened by Hojjat that he used to beat both his wife and daughter, when talking to his wife about the legal case against Nader. As a reflection to the gender roles of Iranian society are discussed, is there a broader perspective on how we should receive this film’s interpretation? Asghar Farhadi claims it is to ask, “Why can’t these two people get along?”
As the film progresses into the downward spiral of both marital relationships, the topic of who is right in this situation is questioned, and left ultimately up to the viewer to decide for themselves. Nacima Pak-Shiraz from Ceasefire Magazine, stated, “We discover by the end of the film that we have continually judged, re-evaluated, and revised our understanding of the situation as the events unfold.” With Nigel M. Smith from IndieWire adding, “It seems that everything that comes in between serve as an explanation of the situations and conditions.” So who is more in the right? Is it the “middle-class, non-devote,” or the “regular-class, religious” family? I feel it should have been concluded as a mistrial with the convolution of lies that secure each of their safety from punishment, only to have the dramatic irony show that all of them are not honorable. Although it is ultimately up to the viewer to pick a side, it is what manipulates their choice, that makes this film riveting: Cinematic execution.
Cinematographer, Mahmoud Kalari, uses “voyeuristic” compositions to make the spectator viewpoint (as the audience), more keen on the placement they’ve received in this couple’s personal life. It makes them realize their position as an outsider, and the string of events that follow, as plausible behaviors that led up to the divorce. He then uses the judge’s perspective and gives it to the audience, to make their own decision. David Schaengold from First Things, stated, “The intent is clear; we are not supposed to evaluate the work impassively, but are called upon to judge, or rather to join Farhadi in judging, the action on screen.” This is indicated in the first scene, and sets the foundation for how to interpret the rest of the film. In addition, Farhadi chose to include no music to the movie, other than in the credits, because he felt, “it was representative of a director’s judgement on a scene.” He wanted to keep the scenes impartial, with only the actors influencing our decision as an audience. A specific reference was made by Thomas Caldwell from Cinema Autopsy, inferring that the opening credits scene was in fact depicting the inevitable departure of Simin following the divorce. I believe this to be false, because the last three scanned objects were two passports and a certificate. This infers that it was directed at the story arch of divorce, and not Simin fleeing. An added note is that her daughter’s passport was the only one of the three not shown, which indicates she was not apart of the deal that was occurring, therefore, it could not be a result of Simin’s final choice to leave her family behind. Lastly, the color scheme associated with the film seems to lean more onto the naturalistic style of presentation, without the use of striking colors, or great contrast, which gives the film more realism to its depiction. This all encompasses the emotion that follows A Separation: Bewilderment.
The audience is left confused on who is morally correct in their defense, their offense, as well as, the position itself that the specific character is choosing to abide by in their argument. It is first decided that Nader (Payman Maadi) is innocent, since he claims he didn’t know she was pregnant, to undermining him when he confesses to Termeh that he was aware after all. The reveal then garners sympathy for Razieh, but then we are told the miscarriage was probably due to her being hit by a car, and not actually because she was pushed down the stairs. It seems as though nobody is right, and that the film is telling us that we as individuals, will not back down from our argument, unless proven wrong, and it is only at times of inevitable threats, that question whether a compromise is a solution.
A Separation, is a film that creates division not just between a married couple, but the lives of those around them, and the chaotic events that follow their new circumstances whilst living apart. It only offers judgment for the audience, and is left impartially delivered through each character’s unique dialogue. I do agree with Robert Ebert that this is a movie that will stand the test of times in the coming decades, with people rewatching it for it’s great value. The irony is that A Separation, reversely created unity in its acclaim for success. It is both relatable and unknown to the outside world beyond Iran, and it was fortunately welcomed with open arms.
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