African Violet (from Iran)

If you have seen Asghar Farhadi’s A Separation, you understand difficult it must have been for Shokoo to divorce her first husband Fereydoun. A year later she married one of his friends, the considerably younger Reza. That is a lot of awkward history, yet Shokoo and Reza agree to take Fereydoun into their own home, after his children shunt him off to a nursing home. It will be difficult, but there are times when three’s company in Mona Zandi Haghighi’s African Violet, which opens virtually today.

There is so much that is implied, but left unsaid regarding Shokoo’s marriage to Fereydoun. Clearly, he was much older than she was. We can probably assume the union was not her idea. Yet, for fifteen years, they worked in concert to raise their children. It still didn’t work out. For years after their split, Fereydoun blamed Shokoo for running away with his best friend, but that really wasn’t fair. Regardless, their children inevitably took his side. Yet, Shokoo is still so grateful for his dedication as a father, she offers to care for him.

We can well understand Reza’s initial reluctance, but Shokoo cajoles him into agreement. After all, he has history with Fereydoun too. Despite resenting the old man’s presence, Reza also feels sorry for him. All three have conflicting feelings about each other, but the strange equilibrium that almost settles in will be disrupted by outsiders.

On the surface (and the next few levels down), African Violet is a quiet but keenly observed domestic drama. However, as you unpeel the layers, you start to confront the inherent inequities of Iranian society buried within. Clearly, Fereydoun’s union with Shokoo was not based on equal terms. Since she divorced and remarried, she is considered a scandalous woman by many, including her own family. Plus, it is rather ridiculous to see a brief scene of Shokoo and Reza laying in separate beds (in the same bed room), like Rob and Laura in The Dick Van Dyke Show, but that presumably says more about the Iranian production code than their marriage.

Yet again, African Violet demonstrates Iranian filmmakers’ remarkable comparative advantage for the domestic drama genre. Arguably, the Japanese film industry is their closest competitor in this respect. To this end, Haghighi coaches wonderfully subtle and understated performances from all three of her principals, while maintaining a palpable sense of compounded sadness.

Opening Soon: 12:08 East of Bucharest

In general, Warsaw Pact countries with a history of dissent, like Poland and then Czechoslovakia, fared much better after the fall of Communism then those countries where Marxist domination went virtually unchallenged. Romania under Ceausescu would be a case in point, in Corneliu Porumboiu’s new film, 12:08 East of Bucharest.

The title refers to the moment at which Ceausescu evacuated Bucharest on December 22, 1989. It is the pivotal time for determining whether the characters of Porumboiu’s city of Vaslui actually revolted during the regime, or merely celebrated his demise after the fact.

The bulk of 12:08 takes place on the set of a live call-in show in Vaslui, as two flawed characters, one an alcoholic school teacher, the other a part-time Santa Claus, recount their revolutionary memories. However, their claims are soon disputed by various townspeople, including a former secret police bureaucrat turned crony capitalist, in what could be described as a provincial Frost Nixon.

Indeed, we see a Romania that lacks the verve of the Czech Republic and the economic drive of Poland. It seems to be a perennially dark country, even though street lamps play an important metaphorical role in the film. There is wide spread cynicism for Vaslui’s revolutionary claims, but Porumboiu fittingly gives the last call to a mother whose son was killed in Otopeni, Bucharest on the 23rd, fighting to bring down the feared Ceausescu dictatorship, who nicely puts things into perspective.

Porumboiu has written a script that asks some interesting questions and his direction captures the claustrophobia and tackiness of that provincial studio (where we also get to hear a traditional Romanian band try their hand at a Latin dance number). It lacks the suspense and emotional heft of a film like The Lives of Others, but it certainly captures the feeling of a country still finding its way after monumental changes. It is fitting that one of its main characters often plays the role of Santa Claus, who as P.J. O’Rourke wrote, gives us everything we want, but does not really exist. It opens at the Film Forum in the City on June 6th (with free DVD giveaways of one of Porumboiu’s shorts at the 6:15 & 8:00 shows).