Iranian filmmaker Asghar Farhadi relishes in the ambiguous; or rather, it may be that he excels at exploring the most genuine aspects of our human nature, the fact that very little in life is black and white, least of all our own conscience or moral compass. A Hero, a film about a man on leave from debtor's prison desperately trying to find a way out of his sentence, exists almost entirely in this gray area, where nothing is every quite as simple or uncomplicated as our protagonist, Rahim (Amir Jadidi) wishes it could be. With a thoughtfully layered script that allows those in his orbit to inhabit as much depth of character as he does, the film becomes a balancing act in more ways than one: Rahim nearly exhausting himself trying to keep his footing and an audience teetering between despair and triumph at every turn. Farhadi's latest is an emotionally engaging journey through one man's desperate attempt to right wrongs, and not always in a manner that will turn out how he anticipates.
Image courtesy of Amazon Studios
Everyman Rahim is on a two-day leave from jail, a minimum security type place where theres no orange jumpsuits or shackles; instead, he spends his days on building improvement projects, interacting with the jail administrators as if they're friends. On leave, he stays with his sister Mali (Maryam Shahdaei), her husband and kids, and his own school-age son, Siavash (Saleh Karimai), a sweet boy with a debilitating speech impediment. Separated from his first wife, Rahim is now engaged to Farkhondeh (Sahar Goldust), Siavash's speech therapist; their infatuation is sweet and infectious, both of them all smiles when they see each other again after a long absence. In all, Rahim's small circle is supportive and optimistic; his brother-in-law Bahram (Mohsen Tanabandeh) even agrees to mediate on his behalf with the man to whom he owes his debt. Here, apparently, the law is such that as long as the lender holds the loan due, the recipient is on the hook and jailed. If only he'd give up his claim, with partial payment and a promise to pay the rest in installments, Rahim could come home for good.
The goal seems within reach, too. Farkhondeh has found a purse with gold coins in it, and if they sell the coins, they'd have enough to pay back a significant portion of Rahim's debts. But the price of gold has gone down and they won't get as much as they planned, so Rahim decides it may be best to find the rightful owner, an act that turns this failed businessman into a local hero. He's interviewed on TV for his good deed; his jailers hold him up as an example of character reform; his son has someone to be proud of. Except it's never that easy, is it? Hossein (Alireza Jahandideh), his creditor, remains dubious of the circumstances of the bag, its contents, and Rahim's motives in returning it as he says he did (he's still in jail when someone comes to claim it, leaving his sister Mali to manage the transaction, further complicating the whole situation).
Some films are quite clear about their perspective, the narrative unfolding unmistakably from one character's point of view. These films leave little to debate around the events presented; the only way to explore their tale from another perspective would be to make an entirely new film. Farhadi, on the other hand, asks his viewers to put all those presuppositions about storytelling, certainty and clarity on hold, capturing quite viscerally the way the world works: that things don't always (in fact rarely) go according to plan. Hossein isn't the only one to question Rahim's actions, even as he's being lauded by a local charity and offered a job, something he needs desperately to be able to support himself and his son once he leaves prison. The man who could give him that job begins to poke holes in Rahim's story of the bag and its return, and Rahim makes some questionable choices in trying to prove his good deed is in fact honest and honorable. It all becomes so morally precarious that it's sometimes hard to watch Rahim get so close to what he wants only to have the rug pulled out from under him (or for him to slip and fall of his own ill-advised accord).
Jadidi portrays Rahim as a man without animosity, at least none that's visible on the surface (to a point, that is). He's typically all smiles and earnest charm, and he manages to always know exactly what to say in a given situation—a talent, or a trick? He's direct and honest with his sister and brother-in-law, grateful for all they do to support him, and when his young son is burdened by all the drama, more complicated and confusing by the day for a kid, Rahim is quick to comfort him and assure him everything will be OK. But Jadidi's skill is evident as easygoing Rahim is pushed to his breaking point, the interrogation from the potential employer and a confrontation with Hossein as case in point. There's a temper here, a man willing to do or say what he must when circumstances demand it. It's a gripping central performance, as likable at times as it is off-putting at others, exactly what Farhadi's nuanced narrative demands.
A Hero isn't about one man overcoming his own nature to become something new, someone who's turned over a new leaf, seen the error of his ways and vowed to live differently from then on. That would be too unbelievable for a film so rooted in the reality of human nature and all its flaws. The film's ending is bittersweet, but inevitable. Though we ache for Rahim, Farkhondeh, Siavash and everyone else who got tangled up in this messy escapade, there's a sense of closure nevertheless. Where these complicated, imperfect people go from here depends on them...and the stories they tell each other.
A Hero is now playing in select theaters, including the Siskel Film Center; the film begins streaming on Amazon Prime January 21.
https://youtu.be/zAJ6_lmr_HQ
Did you enjoy this post? Please consider supporting Third Coast Review’s arts and culture coverage by making a donation. Choose the amount that works best for you, and know how much we appreciate your support!