Every country has her unique ways to resolve conflicts and day-to-day issues. Take Singapore as an example. If a motor incident involves two cars – front and back, the claim process is straightforward. The car at the back picks up the bill. If a motor incident involves three cars in a chain collision – which in my case, it is unfortunately fortunate that I am car #1, the claim process is somewhat tedious. Car #2 would dispute my claim saying car #3 was the culprit. Car #3 has no physical contact with car #1 – my car that is – and cares less about picking up my repair bill. Therefore, as the driver and owner of car #1, I have to make a claim against my insurance policy as though it was my fault, temporarily eating the non-claim bonus as well as the impeding increase in my premium until this rather tedious case is administratively resolved in nine months to more than a year. All because of a silly incident at the highway during last Friday’s rush hours, when the cars in front of me were stationary, when my car was stationary, even the car behind me was stationary. Someone else must have fallen asleep or taken her eyes off the wheel and banged onto the car in front, which in turn banged onto mine. When the officer at the reporting center informed me that although in this case is no fault of mine, I will need to eat the liability first and be compensated later. Much, much later. That is how the motor claim framework works uniquely here, in Singapore. He was half-expecting me to go into flame, raging into a flow blown complaint mode like a true blue Singaporean or a discerning foreigner often does. My reaction to him was claim and submissive: Can you repair my car asap?
I had no idea on the credentials that come with this Iranian film “A Separation”. OK. Now that I read the paper today, I do vaguely remember one Iranian movie has won the Oscar this year, in the category of best foreign film. I did not know that “A Separation” is the one. Cynthia chose the title, reminding TK and I that Persepolis that we enjoyed watching is also a movie about Iran. So the concept should not be too foreign to us. In retrospect, while Persepolis is a movie about Iran, it is not an Iranian movie. In any case, I enjoy watching unfamiliar cultures and peoples on a big screen. So, I watched “A Separation” with a curious mind.
Every country has her unique ways to resolve conflicts and day-to-day issues. Iran is no different. This story begins in an Iranian court that resembles an office. A woman is divorcing her husband in the presence of a judge. There are no lawyers representing them, just two persons arguing their case in front of an official. Peeled underneath this truly ordinary divorce case is a husband who devoutly takes care of his father who suffers from Alzheimer’s disease, even though his father no longer seems to recognize him, or to speak. A wife who wants to emigrate with her husband and their daughter. And a 11-year old daughter who gets caught in her parents’ separation.
It takes a while for me to adjust to the fact that this family is considered as well-to-do family in Iran standard. Their apartment is comparably larger and they can afford to have cars when some need to spend hours in order commute to work. The contrast with the scene of the street is striking. Soon, there is a clash between the two classes. Conflict gets escalated and the film’s characters spend much time arguing in and out of the courtroom. Witnesses are being called in and cases are reconstructed at the actual scene. Everything in Iran seems to be chaotic. Everyone seems to have different motives. In this emotional torn environment, truth is hardly black and white. If the system is not perfect, what does doing the right thing mean? How far can one pushes the envelop of conscience, especially in a community that is governed by religion?
However way you look into this story, there are different layers to it. These are real problems with real people. No one is perfect, neither is the system (or philosophically speaking, neither is the world). People make do with whatever situation and system they are in and trying to live a life, making the best out from it. In the end, we the audience are gently reminded by the filmmaker that these are private matters. As an observer, we have a glimpse into what goes on with the ordinary folks in Iran. The rest is private. I love this movie. Possibly a masterpiece.