2015, d.Babak Anvari - Netflix
As a North American-raised viewer, the idea of
living in a war-torn city is not only unfamiliar, but inconceivable,
which is what makes Under the Shadow such a potent movie. The
setting of the film is mid-1980's Tehran in the midst of the lengthy
Iran-Iraq war offers sights, sounds, drama and tension that Western
cinema just can't offer without delving into additional levels
of fantasy.
But this setting isn't just the backdrop, it's the point, highlighting the psychological impact of the war, the toll it takes on every aspect of someone's life.
Shideh (the compelling Narges Rashidi) is denied her return to school, crushing her hopes of being a doctor, because of her leftist activism years earlier. Immediately we understand that Shideh is living in a world she is unhappy with, but this blow is dealt shortly after her mother passed away, mortality obviously on her mind.
The war looms large as her husband is conscripted into service, placed into one of the heaviest battle zones, leaving Shideh (and their daughter Dorsa) even more alone. Tensions were high when he was home, as they attempted normalcy even as the air raid sirens would send the to the basement on an almost daily basis, but with him gone there is no normal.
The film deftly uses the basement shelter during the air raid drills as a benchmark for Shideh's isolation, going from the building's full tenentcy to just Shideh and Dorsa, the isolation and quiet of the building making every sound and movement more prominent.
Warned to get out of town, Shideh holds steadfast, underestimating the threat, until an Iraqi missile hits their building, but doesn't explode. The impact causes the upstairs neighbor to have a heart attack and Shideh can't save him. Her feelings of inadequacy and ineffectiveness as a result only worsens her anxiety and are doubled when Dorsa starts running a fever that won't break. Is it the fever causing the child to talk to thin air? Or is there truly malevolent forces at play in their building. It gets to a point where Shideh's anxiety is at such height that she can't even did even between her own nightmares and reality.
This film acts as mood piece, cultural document, and metaphor, and does so brilliantly all around. It's scoreless, so it doesn't have the all too typical (and frankly cheap) way of generating tension or scares, it relies on clever editing and outstanding direction (plus great performances) to build up it's suspense and create it's unsettling atmosphere. The sound design is key, placing explosions, creaks, wind, rustling, knocks and so many other atmospheric components, some sudden, some omnipresent, throughout. At the film's apex, the rustling of a tarp ingeniously becomes the manic soundtrack to a struggle.
There are cultural aspects that could be easily overlooked but serve well in informing Shideh's character, including her use of a VHS player is something that needs to be hidden, her Jane Fonda workout (I see both this and the unexploded ordinance as two different impacts of America influence on her life), and her arrest for being outside without a hajib (for a law which she's obviously against, given her activist history). Life in Iran is foreign, but not alien, so it's easy to empathize with Shideh, and to understand why her situation is having such a traumatic impact.
This came as a recommendation from April Wolfe from the Who Shot Ya Podcast, an always fantastic listen with insight from a diverse and delightful cast of reviewers, not just the all too common straight white guy opinion.
But this setting isn't just the backdrop, it's the point, highlighting the psychological impact of the war, the toll it takes on every aspect of someone's life.
Shideh (the compelling Narges Rashidi) is denied her return to school, crushing her hopes of being a doctor, because of her leftist activism years earlier. Immediately we understand that Shideh is living in a world she is unhappy with, but this blow is dealt shortly after her mother passed away, mortality obviously on her mind.
The war looms large as her husband is conscripted into service, placed into one of the heaviest battle zones, leaving Shideh (and their daughter Dorsa) even more alone. Tensions were high when he was home, as they attempted normalcy even as the air raid sirens would send the to the basement on an almost daily basis, but with him gone there is no normal.
The film deftly uses the basement shelter during the air raid drills as a benchmark for Shideh's isolation, going from the building's full tenentcy to just Shideh and Dorsa, the isolation and quiet of the building making every sound and movement more prominent.
Warned to get out of town, Shideh holds steadfast, underestimating the threat, until an Iraqi missile hits their building, but doesn't explode. The impact causes the upstairs neighbor to have a heart attack and Shideh can't save him. Her feelings of inadequacy and ineffectiveness as a result only worsens her anxiety and are doubled when Dorsa starts running a fever that won't break. Is it the fever causing the child to talk to thin air? Or is there truly malevolent forces at play in their building. It gets to a point where Shideh's anxiety is at such height that she can't even did even between her own nightmares and reality.
This film acts as mood piece, cultural document, and metaphor, and does so brilliantly all around. It's scoreless, so it doesn't have the all too typical (and frankly cheap) way of generating tension or scares, it relies on clever editing and outstanding direction (plus great performances) to build up it's suspense and create it's unsettling atmosphere. The sound design is key, placing explosions, creaks, wind, rustling, knocks and so many other atmospheric components, some sudden, some omnipresent, throughout. At the film's apex, the rustling of a tarp ingeniously becomes the manic soundtrack to a struggle.
There are cultural aspects that could be easily overlooked but serve well in informing Shideh's character, including her use of a VHS player is something that needs to be hidden, her Jane Fonda workout (I see both this and the unexploded ordinance as two different impacts of America influence on her life), and her arrest for being outside without a hajib (for a law which she's obviously against, given her activist history). Life in Iran is foreign, but not alien, so it's easy to empathize with Shideh, and to understand why her situation is having such a traumatic impact.
This came as a recommendation from April Wolfe from the Who Shot Ya Podcast, an always fantastic listen with insight from a diverse and delightful cast of reviewers, not just the all too common straight white guy opinion.
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