The Salesman: Review

Following his critically-acclaimed 2011 marriage drama, A Separation, Asghar Farhadi is a director whose name has been at the forefront of world cinema for some years now. Fuelling his noteworthy presence even further was his decision to boycott this year’s 89th Academy Awards ceremony on account of Donald Trump’s ban on travellers entering the US from seven Muslim-majority countries, with Farhadi’s Iranian heritage even at one point raising the question of whether he would be able to attend in the first place. When it was later revealed he would be permitted to attend, he made the widely-supported move to send an associate on his behalf to collect the Oscar he won for his latest film, The Salesman, in protest of the travel ban.

With the film still hot on the lips of audiences and critics alike, following Farhadi’s Oscar win, it was disappointing to find that it didn’t quite live up to my high expectations. Whilst its core ideas were interesting and ambitious, issues with pacing and structure prevented it from reaching its full potential. The plot follows the marital turmoil which ensues between couple, Emad (Shahab Hosseini) and Rana (Taraneh Alidoosti), after Rana is assaulted whilst alone in the pair’s new apartment. A gulf emerges between them as a result of the emotional scars left on Rana by the incident, alongside Emad’s obsessive pursuit of the perpetrator. Simultaneously, the couple are starring alongside one another in an adaptation of Arthur Miller’s Death of a Salesman, which is not only affected by the troubles they face following the assault, but also begins to parallel aspects of their faltering relationship.

Whilst this dual narrative structure added depth and texture to the events which unfold in wake of Rana’s trauma, the right balance was never quite achieved. The stage play parallel could have been developed further to create a more dynamic pace and create deeper characterisation, but the lack thereof eventually became the film’s main shortfall in terms of maintaining an engaging, stimulating feel. Whilst there were climactic scenes scattered throughout the two hour run time which were truly overflowing with tension, there were an equal number of moments which felt slow and would have benefited from a more succinct approach. It’s undeniable that Asghar Farhadi is an immensely talented filmmaker, however, with his directorial proficiency lying most notably in his ability to elicit powerful and stirring performances from his actors.

The film’s second half contained much of its dramatic power, with Hosseini and Alidoosti’s nuanced performances delivering the kind of focused character development that the first half was lacking. The Salesman is most definitely creative in its ideas about the effect of psychological trauma on a relationship, with the growing rift between Rana and Emad emblematic of the difficulties couples face in not fully understanding the other person’s needs, and not being able to rise above one’s own primal emotions. Its pacing issues, however, created a lack of drive and cohesion which would have propelled the film to greatness.

 

 

Toni Erdmann: Review

Oh Toni Erdmann, where oh where do I start? Maren Ade’s German language dark comedy, Toni Erdmann, is an exercise in sheer brilliance; outlandish, nihilistic and hilarious in its approach to the events surrounding the strange relationship between career-driven business consultant, Ines (Sandra Hüller) and her estranged father, Winifried (Peter Simonischek). This film was a complete breath of fresh air, somehow achieving the perfect balance between its endearingly bizarre, distinctly European sense of humour, and strikingly poignant undertones which consolidate its remarkable charm.

We are introduced to the character of Winifried at the film’s outset and there is an immediate sense of intrigue as to the eccentric nature of the character. The majority of the film’s events centre around Winifried making a spontaneous visit to Bucharest, where Ines lives and works. Clearly, he feels his daughter has lost her sense of humour, so adopts the titular Toni Erdmann alter ego in order to follow and embarrass her during events she attends for her work. The majority of the film’s comedy stems from these scenarios, with its sense of humour carrying the sort of absurd, outrageous quality which will perhaps divide opinion to some extent, but is undeniably creative and strikingly different from the swathes of middling comedy which are so commonplace in Hollywood cinema.

What I adored about Toni Erdmann was the way its painful and emotional moments were conveyed in such a way that simply didn’t require dialogue or explanation. This is partly a credit to the accomplished performances of Sandra Hüller and Peter Simonischek, with the pair bouncing off each other to create dark and cutting humour, as well as raw and palpable emotion which momentarily transcends the film’s comedic genre and depicts feelings and experiences most of us can probably identify with in some small way. Whether this is communicated through silent tears or seething faces, the film possesses a constant awkwardness, never falling into any kind of predictable pattern in which we as viewers are aware of what might happen next, or how the relationship between Ines and her father will unfold. This beautiful and, at times, heartbreaking exploration of family bonds and changing dynamics, combined with wonderfully cringe-inducing humour created a number of scenes that will stay with me for a long time. There is an inexplicable and overwhelming sense, when watching Toni Erdmann, of wanting to cry whilst also violently laughing (much like life, I suppose?).

On another level, the film becomes even more interesting through its study of the depersonalisation of work and the world of business, something the titular character appears to know all too well in his attempts to bring levity to his daughter’s life. Ade must also be commended for crafting multi-faceted characters as opposed to the tropes she could have fallen back on. Ines, for instance, fluctuates between states of embarrassment over her father’s behaviour, yet is also initially inclusive when he first joins her in Bucharest, determined not to deride him in anyway when socialising within her business sphere. In less considerate hands her character could have been overridden with the ruthless, emotionless ‘front’ stereotype which is typically associated with business people. Of course, such a character would never have worked for Toni Erdmann, which does not shy away from the difficulty of dealing with strained family relationships.

There is not one scene I would remove from Toni Erdmann’s near three hour runtime. Thematically refreshing and brimming with genuine, big laughs, the film is an absolute triumph and one I expect to visit time and time again. It’s deeply painful and emotionally-charged whilst simultaneously being farcical and silly enough to make you feel weightless. I’m truly in love with it as a film and can see it remaining a considerably important one in my life. It’s not often that cinema surprises me the way Toni Erdmann did.