When I have to choose between two new releases the crucial consideration is often which movie has the best chance of reaching a wide audience. I thought initially that Ethan Coen’s Drive Away Dolls would be a bigger crowd pleaser than Mani Haghighi’s Subtraction, but after watching both features, I’m not so sure.
At their best, the Coen Brothers have made some extraordinary movies, but Ethan’s solo effort is so flimsy it left me perplexed. Drive Away Dolls is a lesbian road movie, with the usual lashings of violence and vulgarity that have become a Coen trademark. Rising star, Margaret Qualley, is a voracious female sexfiend, her companion, played by Geraldine Viswanathan, is bookish and uptight. Already you may detect a hint of formula, but as the story progresses it feels as if one is watching a not-very-funny parody of a Coen movie. The film’s major claim to fame may be that it shows lesbians can be as gross as high school jocks. This may or may not be news to readers of a sapphic persuasion. Or it may simply be offensive. Viewers of all denominations will find it an insult to their intelligence.
Taking one away from two, leaves the Iranian film, Subtraction. It was slightly perturbing to find that director, Mani Haghighi, had studied philosophy in Montréal and translated a small book by Michel Foucault into Farsi. I had visions of Terrence Malick, who has taught philosophy at university and directed movies that strain, painfully, for profundity.
It’s with some relief I can report that Haghighi’s mentor appears to be Hitchcock rather than Heidegger. Ironically, he says the film that inspired him to become a director was Blood Simple (1984) by the Coen brothers. No complaints about that one.
Iranian films, made under the most severe strictures, with miniscule budgets, tend to specialise in moral dilemmas that exert a vice-like grip on the viewer’s mind. Subtractionticks those boxes, but it’s also something else: a mystery, a low-level horror movie quite unlike anything I’ve seen from this nation of talented filmmakers.
All the devices of realist cinema are brought to bear on a tale that becomes increasingly disturbing and bizarre as it progresses towards a disturbing and bizarre conclusion. The opening of the film feels as if we’ve entered during the second act. The camera, arriving late and just as confused as we are, trawls past a row of cars caught in a typical Tehran traffic jam (I speak from experience here). It slides past one car, focuses briefly on the next, then slides back, having decided this is the one it wants.
Inside we find a woman named Farzaneh (Taraneh Alidoosti), who is complaining about her friend’s bad driving. Suddenly she sees a man getting on a bus, leaps out of the car and clambers on by the other door. She follows her quarry to an apartment block, then goes home. Farzaneh, who is pregnant and depressed, thinks she has discovered her husband Jalal (Navid Mohammadzadeh) in an adulterious liaison. There are ugly accusations, and Jalal’s old dad (Ali Bagheri), seems to sympathise with his daughter-in-law.
The truth, which Jalal is slow to admit, is stranger than anyone might expect. He has met a woman named Bita, who is a perfect double of Farzaneh, married to a man who is his own doppelgänger. It may be one of those coincidences of the magnitude of a monkey typing out the works of Shakespeare, but there’s no attempt to explain these resemblances. Explanation is not part of Haghighi’s plan.
The man Farzaneh has followed is Bita’s husband, Mohsen, who has his own problems, having beaten up a 65-year-old man at work, who accused him of dishonesty. Now facing a possible transfer to the regions, he still can’t bring himself to apologise. For Bita and their small son, it woud be a disaster, but Mohsen is an ornery, stubborn bastard.
We can see that Bita has much more chemistry with the mild-mannered Jalal, who obviously prefers her to the neurotic Farzaneh. Yet both of them respect the boundaries, accepting that marriage is a life sentence. Their friendship lingers as a fantasy, as they imagine how much better things would be if they could escape their difficult partners. This chaste but warm relationship is soon revealed to their respective spouses, who respond in their own ways.
As in any doppelgänger story there are numerous instances of mistaken identity, both accidental and premeditated. For the director and cinematographer, there is the logistical problem of two actors playing four roles, which requires a degree of finesse in getting them into the same frame without appearing too contrived. This is where Haghighi shows his class, revealing a mastery of framing that once again suggests Hitchcock, who planned every shot meticulously on a storyboard. The great man used to joke that turning up for the shoot was simply a waste of his time.
There are almost too many possibilities to be explored in this fantastic tale, which might justify a sequel. The realistic approach makes the implausible seem plausible, even as Farzaneh and her doctor think she must be going mad. The truly surreal touch comes from the weather. From the first scene to the last, it never stops raining. The characters are continually getting drenched, apartments are springing leaks, the roar of a downpour and the thump, thump, of windscreen wipers plays like a soundtrack, complementing Ramin Kousha’s subtle score.
Lead actress, Taraneh Alidoosti, is a screen idol in Iran, and rightly so. She and Navid Mohammadzadeh work overtime, each playing two very different characters, with Bita’s good sense balancing Farzaneh’s instability, while Jalal’s calm temperament counteracts Mohsen’s impulsive anger. One might easily believe there are four actors involved. It need not diminish the couple’s achievement if we accept that in Iran today, almost everybody has become skilled at wearing at least two faces.
Subtraction
Directed by Mani Haghighi
Written by Mani Haghighi & Amir Reza Koohestani
Starring: Navid Mohammadzadeh, Taraneh Alidoosti, Ali Bagheri, Esmail Poor Reza, Farham Azizi
France/Iran, M, 107 mins
Published in the Australian Financial Review, 2 March, 2024