Women without men

In a way, it does what it says on the tin: it's a movie about women who escape the -- always suppressive -- men in their life. In Iran in the 1950ies. There is a woman whose brother is trying to force her into marriage, a prostitute, the ageing wife of a general, a girl in love with an orthodox Muslim. All suffer ignominy from men without really engaging them or even fighting back. They eventually all retreat into a surreal orchard owned by the general's wife. At the same time we get to witness a bit of the political upheavals of the 1954 CIA-sponsored coup against the democratically-elected prime minister Mossadeq.

Director Shirin Neshat was born in Iran and left as a young woman as a result of the 1979 Islamic revolution; so she knows both Iran and the West. Here she is able to employ her expertise as a video artist in some scenes, which give the film a unique visual style (for example there is a "still" scene where the people seem to be both frozen as well as slightly moving).

What I didn't like about this movie is that it always stays on the political surface. We notice that there is a revolution going on, but we don't get to see any historic context -- by way of saying "sit up and listen, USA, this is how you fecked up Iran in a big way". Communists as well as loyal supporters of the Shah somehow seem to be equally opposing "the system". I also didn't like how women are portrayed as helpless victims of one-dimensionally evil men.

As a cinematic experience that is both gripping and mesmerizing it deserves a 10 out of 10. But I couldn't care less about the backdrop of the coup d'état, that provided some, but not much, narrative structure.

Somewhere between an audiovisual poem, a feminist tale, and a historical drama, it has taken on too much at once.

To dissect what is exactly wrong with the narrative would be difficult. There are elements of the story that work well: the girls' story before they come to the house, women's place in society, the love stories that develop. If these aspects would have gotten all the attention and focus, it would have been more than enough for me to chew on.

Still I love this film. There is an etherial atmosphere throughout the film that kept my eyes fixed on the screen. Visually the film is stunning, its desaturated look is fitting as a metaphor for the oppression both the country and the women face.

Women Without Men (2009) is an Iranian film whose original title is Zanan-e bedun-e mardan. It was directed by Shirin Neshat and Shoja Azari. The title "Women Without Men" is misleading, because the women are only "without" men because they are able temporarily to escape from the men in their lives by moving to a rural estate.

The movie takes place in 1953, when the CIA helped overthrow the democratic government of Iran and put the Shah into power. Some of the women are running from government oppression, and some of them are running from the oppression of the men in their lives.

The women in the film had few acceptable options--probably an accurate reflection of the lives of women in Iran during this period. It's a grim situation, and it's depicted in a grim film. I don't have the expertise to know how faithful the film is to the novel on which it's based, or to the reality of events in 1950's Iraq. That information will have to come from an expert. (My guess is that the portrayal of women's lives is pretty accurate.)

This is a powerful film. We saw it at the excellent Rochester 360-365 film festival--dumb name but great festival. There's enough in this film to make it worth seeing, but, in my opinion, not enough to warrant seeking it out at all costs. It should work well on a small screen.

The director Shirin Neshat has in "Zanan-e bedun-e mardan", made a visually stunning and important film, with a lot of good acting performances. Especially by Pegah Ferydoni(as Faezeh), and Arita Shahrzad (as Farrokhlagha). When you walk out of the cinema after having watched this movie, the real world will for a time seem a bit more colorless and unreal.

With the military coup of the Shah of Iran in 1953 as a background, four women find out the price for freedom. And through them, the audience find out the price and value of freedom for themselves. The film also draws the historical lines between the democratic Iran of the early 1950s, and the "Green movement" of today.

How you approach this film will surely shape your experience. It is a poetic film, with more than a dash of magical realism. That said it does not shy away from the political, that thread is important of course, it is just not what I believe the director and her creative partner wished to accentuate.

I've been on a bit of a Shirin Neshat addiction as of late, and I strongly recommend tracking down her "Turbulent" split-screen split-audio art installation. That is on the web, although I wish I could have experienced it (and her other works too, but that one foremost) in person.

"Women Without Men" is based on a book by an author who was imprisoned in Iran; and now like Shirin, that author is estranged from if not in exact exile from her beloved motherland. This movie is infused with a sense of nostalgia, a longing for a beautiful time in Iran, and in particular from Shirin's youth. The metaphoric/memory garden she has spoken of in other arenas.

Shirin' acute photographic sense is definitely employed in some of the beautiful shots specifically of the mist-drenched garden offering refuge to three of the women. The lighting through-out the film feels at times like an extra actor on screen. The sound as well.

I could say more, but I full-heartedly recommend seeing this movie. For other critical reviewers, enjoy the interview with Shirin and Shoja that accompanies the DVD. That interview is currently at the Walker Art web site. It is illuminating and she is so elegant in many ways. Shoja addresses topics succinctly as well, notably the male roles in the move. It is quite a nice guide to splendid non-polemic poetic experience that captures much of the art, beauty and music of an Iran that hopefully blooms again.

I would be curious to ask Shirin, even if CIA-interference and subsequent religio-political turmoil had not marred her beloved Motherland, would she still not sense a separation from the garden/country of her youth.

Perhaps too hard to speculate, as her identity and her artistic spirit are so interwoven with her own dislocation and displacement. Maybe no one can truly go home again, but for Shirin and the Iran she shares with us all, that is a great sorrow.