El idioma universal

From its cinematography and its usual search for symmetry, static or in traveling shots, and pleasant aesthetics with a dreamlike atmosphere enhancing the settings universality, to its story revolving around different characters, how their lives intersect and enliven a dialogue sometimes polite, other times not so much, a Wes Anderson influence crosses Matthew Rankin's feature from beginning to end.

As in Anderson's films, Rankin's is interested in exploring the reality of his film, a reality full of idiosyncrasies that serve as fertile ground for comedy. An angry teacher in a class shouting at the students, one of whom claims a turkey stole his glasses; another one is dressed up as a Groucho Marx as he wants to be a comedian; and another as a fashionista. A freelance tourist guide with strange choices for his tour, etc. With a comedy consisting of wry, deadpan, and dark humor, Une langue universelle manages to be hilarious every time it wants to. There are many times when its happenings border absurdism or surrealism, furthering the comedy that bathes it yet never undermining its aim at thought-provoking profundity. Rankin's dexterity manages to evoke a surrealist dreamlike fable but also an expressive introspective melancholy. Elements and sentiments that coalesce and give life to a special experience between places and times, realities and dreams. For instance, in the reality of the movie, even if we are in Canada, French, let alone English, seems to be a second language, and in its place there is Persian. They all speak it, and signs and billboards are written in it, rendering its result as something close yet distant, known and unknown intermingle in a culturally and demographically blind new reality.

In terms of cinematography, many times resembling that of Anderson, more in framing and movement than in color palette, there is a constant will to inhabit the spaces where the characters are in. The camera is sometimes static from a distance, observing their movement and how it affects the surroundings instead of focusing on their faces and expressions with close-ups. It is as if the place is as important as the characters for the telling of the story, and Rankin wants to make sure we delve into it as tourists from a foreign land. And while in terms of names we may know these cities, in the framework of the movie and its demographic profile unmatching our knowledge, there may be reasons to delve into these spaces.

Universal Language is an intriguing film that tells three stories set in Winnipeg, Canada. A government worker in Quebec leaves his job and heads for home to see the mother he left years ago. A tour guide shows the curious tourist attractions of Winnipeg in the most bizarre of the three stories. Finally, two children try and rescue a large bill frozen in ice so that a school friend can buy much needed glasses.

All three of these stories on the surface sound naturalistic, but director Mathew Rankin has a few tricks up his sleeve.

For instance, all of these stories take place in the Iranian communities of Winnipeg. Are there Iranians in Canada? Yes, according to Wikipedia, .8% of Canadians are of Iranian descent. That means about eight in one thousand. However, Universal Language takes place in a world where nearly half of the country (or at least nearly half of Winnipeg) is Iranian. Signs are in both French and Farsi (strangely, none in English). Also, while I don't know much about money in either Canada or Iran, I doubt if either country has Edgar Allan Poe on its currency (although they should).

This summary sounds like a weird comedy in the Guy Maddin tradition, and some of Universal Language has that vibe. However, there is a serious side to the film. The story with the children trying to rescue a bill from ice recalls the children focused Iranian films Children of Heaven and The White Balloon. Like those film, the story has an earnest quality to it even with the bizarre touches (like the butcher hot to show his turkey decapitating saw to the children).

Finally, I must mention the reunion between the government worker and his mother. The film concludes with a sadness that I had not expected.

Universal Language is not a film for everyone. I was the only viewer of the four in the theater to find the film funny. The other three did not seem to "get" the film. That is too bad. Universal Language is a film that deserves more recognition than it has received.

UNIVERSAL LANGUAGE (2025) Matthew Rankin's absurdist film about finding one's self. Set in the Persian community in Canada, the story follows a government administrator named Matthew (and played by the Director) who leaves a position in French speaking Quebec to visit his mother in Winnipeg (he describes his job as the most "neutral" of his career). Along the way he encounters two schoolchildren who are trying to uncover some lost money which is encased in ice (where else?). He discovers that his mother is living with a tour guide, Massoud (Pirouz Nemati), and his family.

Rankin's screenplay (written in collaboration with Nemati and Ila Firouzabadi - who also has a role) is all about the journey. The script is full of witty details like insanely specific storefronts which specialize in only one thing - Birthday cakes, typewriters, chainsaws etc.. There are people wandering the streets asking if anybody needs to have their papers shredded - on the spot! A running gag involves a man (Bahram Nabatian) who is renowned for his knowledge of turkeys and has a series of TV commercials to spread his legend. And, of course, there's a very special Tim Hortons.

Shooting in 16mm, Cinematographer Isabelle Stachtchenko gives the film a strong formalist vision. The locations are often bland building after bland building or incongrous - such as a cemetary along a highway intersection. Rankin's compositions may remind one of a Roy Andersson or, more specifically, Winnipeg's own Guy Maddin. Iranian cinema is evoked. The dry dialogue can call to mind the great Aki Kaurismäki (he of equally frigid Finland), but Rankin makes UNIVERSAL LANGUAGE his own.

There is a bit of a metaphysical turn in the film which emphasises Rankin's theme of how every human must discover their own 'language'. It's not based on speech, nationality or country, but comes from within each and every individual. It's a fractured fairy tale in the best sense, at once witty, but subtely profound at the same time.

Travel Tip: When visiting Winnipeg keep in mind that loitering laws are Strictly Enforced.

Philosophers and metaphysicians are generally quick to agree that we're all fundamentally connected, both to one another and to everything around us, that there's a certain universality binding all there is in our existence. But how many of us actually take the time to truly recognize, consider and appreciate this? Maybe this calls for stepping away from our everyday world and immersing ourselves in some sort of alternate version of it to see the inherent connections and the value that lie therein. That's what writer-actor-director Matthew Rankin so eloquently shows us in his second feature outing, an absurdist fable of seemingly unrelated stories that ultimately tie together to illustrate the bonds that unite us and how we can put them to best use for our collective benefit. This triptych of tall tales tells the stories of a Quebec government worker (Rankin) who quits his job to return home to visit his long-estranged mother in Winnipeg; a part-time tour guide (Pirouz Nemati) who leads small bands of visitors on an excursion of mundane, unimpressive alleged tourist sites in Manitoba's capital city; and a pair of concerned grade school classmates (Rojina Esmaeili, Saba Vahedyousefi) who try to secure funds to help a friend (Sobhan Javadi) replace his lost eye glasses when they fall off and are quickly pilfered by a crafty. Free-roaming wild turkey. The assistance these individuals freely offer to others (and receive from them in kind) to get through the quirky challenges of these bizarre circumstances, in turn, reveals the unspoken "universal language" that binds all of us - our mutual compassion and support for one another, particularly those in need. All of this is set against the backdrop of an alternate version of Canada (where the primary language is Farsi) in winter, providing a fitting setting for wending our way through the cold world that surrounds us. "Universal Language" thus serves up a heartwarming, gentle yet insightful story that reminds us of our innate linkage and the goodwill that we're all capable of unselfishly extending to one another when warranted, something that, ideally, should come to us as second nature, as it does for the characters in this film. And all of this is nestled into a wealth of hilarious, off-the-wall humor, coming across like a mixture of Monty Python and Federico Fellini. Admittedly, the film's opening act may seem somewhat disjointed and perhaps even a bit too idiosyncratic for its own good at times, but these issues gradually dissipate as the picture plays out and the pieces of its various story threads begin piecing themselves together, revealing the aforementioned intrinsic connections among us. This delightful indie gem has largely flown below the radar thus far, despite its awards, nominations and rave reception at the 2024 Cannes Film Festival, as well as its designation as one of the National Board of Review's Top 5 International Films of last year. Indeed, at a time when it seems like there's so much dividing us, it's gratifying to see a release like this, one that tenderly spotlights more of what binds us than what sets us apart.

For its creativity, inventiveness, soundtrack, boldness, unique humor, cast, and sociolinguistic vision, it's a yes. For the film's length, contextual setup, and a few redundancies, it's less so. Excellent directing technique and a brilliant idea in how the characters are written in one of the film's final scenes (a remarkable process) and its significance up to the end. One shouldn't go into this movie expecting a linear narrative. That said, this aspect doesn't truly detract from the quality of the plot. A beautiful progression from Rankin as a director since his film The Twentieth Century. A few common elements between these two productions (dreamlike quality, kitsch...) are already beginning to define what will become his personal signature over time.