Two Words, One Answer.
Gives Birth
 The Circle $24.98 This movie could be viewed as a political statement (it was banned in Iran) or a purely artistic work. Either way, it works, and it is Panahi's masterpiece in a filmography that has been dedicated to the disenfranchised (Crimson Gold) and women's secondary status (The Mirror, Offside, The Circle) in Iran. It should be mentioned that the dvd includes an interview with the director, who makes it a point to mention that some of the Iranian laws depicted here (restriction from traveling with the accompaniment of males) have been abolished since the making of this film. However, the familiarity with the customs are still intact. This is a superb piece of work both in craft and emotion. Beginning in a long circular tracking shot from a hospital window, a family learns a newborn is a girl when they expected a boy. From here, it moves in a continuous shot out onto the street (Iranian filmmaking tradition is intertwined and indebted to the Russians as the Bolshevik Revolution forced Russian filmmakers to flee to neighboring countries, one of which was Iran. The Russians are famous for their long continuous tracking shots). A baton relay "race" is set up as the story of one disenfranchised woman is passed on to the next. Three women who have escaped from prison are attempting to move through the city with the least of means. We go from one to the other, as we learn of their personal histories and events that have led to their present hour of desperation. Non-professional actors and professionals share the relay. Nargess Mamizadeh, whom Panahi came across in a park one day, was enlisted to play Nargess (the first girl with the thick handsome eyebrows and black eye). She's extraordinarily pretty, to the point that Panahi had to "dress her down" with an unexplained black eye. Fereshteh Sadr Orafai as Pari who searches for a doctor to abort her child (the father was killed in prison and she has no way of providing), and Fatemeh Naghavi as a mother who dresses up and abandons an adorable daughter in hopes someone with better means can take her in, are both professional actors. Circular motifs and circular settings get reiterated throughout the movie, illustrating an allegory of the vicious circle in a society that puts restrictions on women. Panahi mentions that his film is an attempt to compress an entire lifetime of a woman into one day, using eight women's circumstances as a conduit. The movie begins with fast, jittery hand held pacing, and eventually decelerates into stasis, before ending in the same window first shown in a hospital, but now belongs in a prison cell. Fatemeh Naghavi's desperate mother and her forlorn five-year old daughter was absolutely heartbreaking to watch. When I watched the abandoned child crying, something inside me broke, and remained unmendable for weeks. I never like recommending these types of movies to friends, because I shudder at the thought of them coming back afterwards with a review I see often about The Circle: "It's depressing." Not all films are meant to entertain and make their audience walk out "feeling good." But as much as Dayereh shows the miserable oppression of Iranian women by men, it's inspiring that as an Iranian man himself, Panahi is boldly speaking out for those whose voices have been muted. I have Middle Eastern friends who often tell me that how they are represented throughout the world is not accurate. "We're not all like that. It's just that the ones who have the loudest voices get heard." Panahi's work is a testament and tribute to the sensitivity of Iranian men who are concerned with the injustices dealt to the other half of the human race. |
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