House of Sand and Fog

This film is based on Andre Dubus III'S acclaimed novel "House of Sand and Fog". Dubus created a story of immense power about cultures and the gap between them, about human pain, about hope and ultimately about humanity and sometimes its tragic loss. Colonel Behrani (Sir Ben Kingsley) and his family, buy a house on the fictional area Pacific County, intending to ameliorate their lifestyle, as they have been banished from their home country, Iran. However, the previous owner of the house, a depressed young woman and recovering alcoholic, Kathy Lazaro (Jennifer Connelly), turns up and reclaims her property, which was taken from her because of a bureaucratic error. And when Kathy's boyfriend, Officer Lester Burdon (very effectively performed by Ron Eldard), a racist obsessed with the concept of justice decides to help her, all hell breaks loose. I cannot speak of the plot any further without spoiling it, so I will stop here. How can one tell a story and be more than a mere narrator? How can a book be adapted to film, without merely repeating what the book itself says? Not only does newcomer director Vadim Perelman answer this question, he gives us one of the best films of the past decade. Perelman doesn't waste a single detail. Everything is brought together to create an astonishing emotional impact. Like great directors such as Tarkovsky have done, Perelman approaches his every character and pierces through her/his soul. Every scene takes you deeper and deeper into the soul of the characters, without ever being slow moving or over descriptive. As for the performances, what can I say? Rarely if ever has a single performance moved me as much as Kingsley's. This gigantic actor delivers one of his best performances to date, he has immaculate control over every single aspect of his character, physically and emotionally. Connelly, one of the most talented actresses working today, is also breathtaking, creating a performance that is a quiet outburst of pain and regret. Shoreh Aghdashloo, portraying the most tragic character of the film (at least this is my view of her character), is heartbreaking. This is acting in its supreme form, I really don't think it gets better. She truly deserved an Oscar for this. Young Jonathan Ahdout is also excellent, we will definitely be seeing more of him in the future. However, I must warn you: If you are going to see this movie, prepare for an emotional breakdown. It is really one of the most devastating films of the past years and if you'd rather see a pleasant film, this isn't for you.

We are told that Kathy Nicolo lost her house through no fault of her own, but she didn't open the communications from the county and she let the house fall into a deplorable state when she lost her husband. Her knight in shining armor planted drugs on a wife beater knowing that was the only way to get him in jail where he belonged. He constantly drinks in front of a recovering alcoholic. When he, let's say eases her into drinking again (yes, her own decision) that's when he beds her, before telling his wife of many years and mother of his children what's up. BUT, he does come to Kathy's aid, and immediately, in many ways. Colonel Massoud Amir Behrani was part of the Shah of Iran's war machine, buying fighter planes from Boeing. When he comes to America he keeps a prejudice and communicates it to his son, saying, "Americans don't deserve what they have, they are children," this though he insists he is an American citizen. He doesn't care that he bought his house through a governmental error that displaced the owner into homelessness, but once he understands how emotionally invested she is in the house it doesn't take him more than a beat to regret his decision to stand fast in his attempt to make four times his investment. They are all faulty human beings who are also jewels. They try. The acting is the jewel in this movie, by both leads.

Since antiquity, tragedy has been regarded as the highest and most important form of drama for its ability to arouse the deepest sense of pathos and empathy from its audience.

Remind yourself of this if you choose to watch 'House of Sand and Fog.' I can state emphatically that 'House' is one of the most artfully directed and acted films of the last five years, but make no mistake: it is a tragedy, and only the hardest and most jaded of hearts will emerge from the experience undisturbed. It is a dissertation on sorrow, and while I'm glad I saw it, I can't say I had a whole lot of fun.

'House' was directed by newcomer Vadim Perelman, who also adapted the screenplay from the acclaimed novel by Andre Dubus III. Perelman tweaks the story in some respects but is ultimately faithful to the novel's style and sensibility. As in the novel, the story is filtered through alternating perspectives, the foremost of which are Behrani (Ben Kingsley), a Persian ex-pat and a former high-ranking officer under the Shah in Iran, and Kathy Lazaro (Jennifer Connelly), a severely depressed recovering alcoholic tenuously holding onto sobriety but nevertheless gradually self-destructing after the collapse of her marriage.

The two characters are drawn together, appropriately enough, by the house of the title, a small but elegant coastal property in fictional Pacific County, California (the novel sets the house in Malibu). The house belongs to Kathy, who inherited it (along with her older brother, who lives elsewhere) from her deceased father. Kathy has become a victim of a bureaucratic snafu--she has been erroneously charged with delinquency on taxes for a non-existent business--but due to her textbook depressive refusal to open and answer her mail, she wakes up one morning to find that the county has evicted her and put her property up for auction.

Enter Colonel Behrani, a regal man of aristocratic bearing whose ruthless determination to maintain the standard of living his family has always been accustomed to is simultaneously honorable and pathetic. Behrani is the story's tragic hero in the classical sense. Behrani has been saving and shrewdly watching the classified ads waiting for a chance to snap up a foreclosure at a cut rate price, make modest renovations, and then resell the property at peak market value in order to acquire a six-figure nest-egg to fund his son's education and improve his family's future prospects in the US. Fortuitously, the house he buys at auction--Kathy's house--is a coastal property bearing some resemblance to his former home on the Caspian Sea, back before his family fled Iran. The house is seen in an early flashback, an eerie montage wherein a younger Behrani in full-dress service uniform observes as a row of enormous trees are severed at the trunk so that the sea will be visible from the balcony where he stands.

To elaborate the plot further would be too revealing, so I'll simply say that the lead performances in this film are sublime. I didn't think at first that I'd be able to believe the stunningly beautiful Jennifer Connelly as Kathy, a woman who redefines the term 'self-destructive,' and yet Connelly manages once again as she did in 'A Beautiful Mind' to prove that her talent and skill match or even exceed the looks. It really goes without saying that Ben Kingsley's Behrani is a stunning performance--Kingsley is a mesmerizingly charismatic screen presence and a chameleonic character actor; few actors in the history of film have been able to so convincingly disappear into their characters while projecting such a distinctive, distinguished persona. Both actors master these demanding roles such that the audience feels a broad scope of contradictory and ambiguous emotions towards their characters; neither is completely sympathetic nor despicable, and though in the Aristotelian sense Behrani is the story's tragic hero, it's resolution remains ambiguous, as does the ultimate responsibility for the tragic denouement.

The direction of the film has its occasional hitches, but many of Vadim Perelman's shots are brilliantly captivating. The Northern California coastline is exploited to maximum effect, and Perelman offers numerous shots and angles of seamless appeal--they are original and engaging without feeling forced or consciously 'film-schoolish.' It's quite a beautiful movie to look at, from the meticulous arrangement of the Behrani's luxurious furniture and decorations to the patience with which Perelman lets his actors' nuanced facial expressions and physical gestures unfold the depths of their characters.

I have some slight reservation about recommending the film simply because its tragedy is so unmerciful. And there are moments where you may find yourself exasperated with the characters and unwilling to maintain your sympathy for them. Personally, I think it's worth a look for the quality of the performances alone. It's also quite original and distinctive in style. It's devastatingly sad, however, and so should be reserved for appropriate moods.

A visit from the bailiffs sets the scene, as they evict you from the place that's been a screen, from a world that's left you shattered, broken, worn out, weak and battered, now you're on the street and thoroughly demeaned. There are others who have also lost a place, who have lost all that they had, fallen from grace, they take their chance, but at what cost, as you pursue, oppose, accost, to recover sanctuary, your sacred place.

Some wonderful performances in a film that demonstrates how insecure the world can be, how subtly things can change for the worse and run out of control, and how the security and safety you've become accustomed to, can so very easily be removed.

The concept of the American dream emerged after World War II, when the US began to establish itself as a great world power. Since then, the dream of a better life, nurtured not only by American citizens, but also by foreigners who move there in order to find a more dignified survival, has been the subject of countless films, as in the drama House of Sand and Fog, Vadim Perelman's first film work.

In this feature film by Russian (USA based) Vadim Perelman, the concept of 'family' once again assumes an important place in the narrative, which revolves around Kathy (Connelly), an ex-addict who, after being abandoned by her husband, she is surprised by a notification that her house will be auctioned in order to pay taxes related to her company. The problem is that Kathy doesn't own any business - but before she can clear up the misunderstanding, the property is sold to an Iranian immigrant (Kingsley) for a value far below the market price. With nowhere to sleep, the girl gets help from Lester (Eldard), one of the police officers responsible for her eviction, who recommends a lawyer. Unfortunately, to resolve the impasse, the new owner of the house would have to resell it to City Hall for the same amount paid in the auction - something he refuses to do. From there, Kathy and Behrani (the immigrant) begin a real psychological battle that results in pain and suffering for all involved.

With a script bound by a structure in which it is not possible to measure or compare the dimension of suffering between Kathy and Behrani, director Perelman manages to create an excellent situation of injustice in which no one is to blame and everyone is a victim. And the mise-en-scène, aided by the natural landscape of Northern California, give the dense and suffocating atmosphere that surrounds the dreams of the two characters. Almost always surrounded by a strong fog, the much-disputed house is the very representation of this dream, which sometimes has the image dissipated by reality.

In fact, the beauty of this project (adapted from the book of the same name by Andre Dubus III) begins in its title: when identifying the house that becomes the center of the dispute as being from 'House of Sand and Fog', the film (and the book, of course,) summarizes, in a poetic way, the true meaning of property, which, for Kathy and Behrani, represents more than a simple material asset. For the girl, the house is both an icon of her past (since she inherited it from her father) and a symbol of her recovery. Keeping the property is a sign of maturity, of responsibility fulfilled - and losing it would be further proof of your inability to take care of yourself. For Behrani, the place represents, first and foremost, a good investment - and, consequently, the possibility of recovering part of the luxurious lifestyle he got used to in Iran, where he was an influential military man in the government. In addition, the immigrant counts on the money he will earn from the sale of the property to be able to pay for his youngest son's studies and, as if that were not enough, he still sees, in the property, a reflection of his old beach house. In other words: like sand and mist, which seem compact from a distance, but which slip through your fingers when touched, the house Kathy and Behrani wanted is an ethereal, elusive dream.

Another fascinating element of House of Sand and Fog concerns the personalities of its protagonists, who are not divided between 'Good' and 'Evil'. Behrani, for example, is an authoritarian man (inherited from his military past) and proud, but he is not cruel. And, despite recognizing that the simplest way to resolve the issue would be to return the property to the municipality, the subject considers (with some reason) that he should not be harmed by an administrative error - after all, he had worked hard to save the necessary money. To acquire the property and renovate it, and he cannot accept that his family's future is compromised by bureaucrats. Incidentally, Ben Kingsley, an actor with an already brilliant resume, delivers one of his best performances by perfectly illustrating his character's moral dilemma, humanizing him and transforming him into a complex and real figure. While portraying the Iranian's pride in resigning from the underemployment he had accepted to support his family, Kingsley moves the viewer in a scene in which the subject becomes totally vulnerable in the face of unexpected pain.

Meanwhile, the beautiful Jennifer Connelly takes on yet another suffering character and offers the ideal counterpoint to the usually confident Behrani, as Kathy always seems ready to fall apart. On the other hand, Officer Lester, played by Ron Eldard, is the only element of House of Sand and Fog who could be held responsible for all the suffering that unfolds, as he is a selfish guy who doesn't hesitate to use his badge to try to intimidate the immigrant family, revealing a despicable streak of xenophobia. And, since I mentioned the Behrani family, I must highlight the excellent performance of Shohreh Aghdashloo, who, as the wife of the ex-soldier, becomes the apparently most fragile person in history, since, as she does not understand English, it depends on the husband to understand what is happening - and unfortunately, Behrani is not very willing to explain the situation, leading her to fear even deportation (which would result in the death of her family, who are persecuted in Iran).

As much as the initial essence addressed by the plot seems to be somewhat empty or not very decisive, it is clear that the story manages to lean towards a brusque analysis of the choices we make and the modeling of our actions according to the individual principles of the characters. Once the climax starts to set in, it's impossible to deny how much depth the plot gains, revealing itself to be quite daring by touching pretentious social points, but without getting involved in a climate of cliché or falling into the fact that some films they intend to make social approaches end up forcing the development of facts in order to find out something in the end, as if they needed to force the public to have some kind of reaction or emotion. The investment in working minimally on the evolution of events is crucial so that everything that is articulated by the script gains credibility and gives a greater meaning to the film. The harmony captured by Perelman between the script and the direction is an interesting aspect to analyze, since we were able to perceive a certain affinity and awareness of what needed to be done to make a scene yield good moments. Using a lot of a dark and cold atmosphere, we can still see the director's pessimistic sensibility, as if he were warning the audience that the psychological and moral weights would be focused.

Perelman, by choosing a great cinematographer to accompany him, makes his tragic journey more surprising. Roger Deakins, responsible for the photography of the great Fargo, gives the proper treatment to the mist, making it a kind of character in the plot, as the presence of the natural phenomenon surrounds the house and surrounds certain spaces in a frightening way. Creating a melancholy and cold color scheme, Deakins helps Perelman build the mood of the film, which ends up being safely driven by the newcomer - especially when it comes to the performances. At times, Perelman reveals his inexperience in including less-than-subtle (or effective) shots, such as the one in which he rotates the camera around Connelly in order to create a superficially dramatic moment, but these small flaws do not compromise the final result.

House of Sand and Fog is a strong film, extremely touching. Its characters pursue their dreams in such a way that they put themselves in extreme situations. Furthermore, it is not a Manichean story. There are no good guys or bad guys, which brings the film even closer to real life. Ben Kingsley and Jennifer Connelly deliver truly inspired performances. The desperation of its characters seems to have been incorporated by the actors to the last hair and it is also in the actors that the strength of the film is based. The work shows how difficult it can be to pursue a dream. And it's not just about the American dream, it's about any desire we have. The film shows the rawness of life in a way that it is impossible to feel compassion for its characters. The viewer ends up feeling sorry not only for one side of the story, but for both. They don't want to harm each other, quite the opposite. They're just chasing their dreams, as they say we should. Sad and morally complex, House of Sand and Fog is a film that fits perfectly into the Great Theme of the 2003 films: the family drama.