Review of Rosewater (2014) by Tim M — 01 Dec 2016

This is a response to the negative review by Alonso Duralde of TheWrap.

The real elephant in the room of his review is a seriously misguided and irrelevant carping about the casting of Gael García Bernal. To clarify the claim that the movie is ruined because Bernal doesn't look Iranian, we are offered the ludicrous suggestion that he would have been fine in the part if all the other Iranians had been played by Mexican actors. Perhaps this claim was ironic, but the parenthetical does not suggest irony. It is quite interesting that Mr. Duralde points out that "the room" is a solitary prison cell, and this is where the elephant of Mr. Bernal's heritage and physiognomy is so disturbing; in other words, for much of the movie we see only the main character alone or, perhaps, with one other character, but apparently the actor is so Mexican that his quite powerful performance is rendered ineffective by his looks. REALLY?

As for historic inevitability, this story, like "Argo," was a fairly obscure news story not widely known and based on a single book, whereas "Lincoln," "Apollo 13," and "Titanic" are an integral part of the public's historical consciousness. Furthermore, "Titanic" was in no way historical except for its depiction of the sinking and the introduction of a smattering of irrelevant historical characters. The piece was pure Hollywood fiction.

As for the other three movies to which "Rosewater" was compared, these all had the characteristics of blockbuster epics: huge set pieces, massive "visible" budgets, loads of CGI, and flashy Hollywood editing. Again, "Argo" came much closer to the feel and intent of "Rosewater," but "Argo," like the other three, never, for a second, felt like anything other than a fictionalized drama. As fun, thrilling and/or compelling as those stories were, we do not ever feel that we are experiencing reality. We are never really put in the places of any of those characters.

In "Rosewater," on the other hand, through some very fine performances and very subtle artistry in the film making, we can actually feel the torture of confinement as well as the Kafkaesque irony of his incarceration and psychological torture. For some, especially those enamored of our cinematic penchant for over the top, thrill-ride, video game editing, this movie may seem slow or even dull. What a shame.

The review dismisses the conversations with departed loved ones as "hokey" and laments repeatedly the fact that Bahari's "imagination" is not depicted in a more imaginative way-you know, psychedelic meanderings or hallucinatory CGI-driven gimmicks rather than a terrified but honest and sincere man (not a heroic crusader or political zealot, but a falsely accused conscientious journalist), sitting alone in a prison cell with the memories of his deceased father and sister, both of whom were imprisoned for their convictions and who remained stalwart in their refusal to cooperate with their oppressors.

This film offers subtle and believable humor developing directly from the reality of the situation. The screenplay offers interesting glimpses of a number of characters while focusing on the protagonist and his tormentors. Every scene seems real, except the London street scene alluded to in the review, which is a nice little sequence of artistic exploration (akin to the clever opening credits in the recent "Secret Life of Walter Mitty). However, the force of the movie would have been diluted if Stewart had gimmicked up the rest of his story. Instead, he uses the subtlety of lighting, fluid editing, simple black fades to show elapsed time, and excellent acting to tell this significant story.

It is likely that this film will not reach a huge audience, which is, in fact, a real shame because, unlike those blockbuster historical thrillers from which we actually learn very little about our world (except a rehashing of known history), this film lets the viewer experience-almost first hand-the cruelty of psychological torture; the danger and absurdity of fanaticism, fascism, religious fundamentalism and repression; the cowardice of the oppressor and torturer; the courage of the common man; and the importance of media and public opinion in fighting tyranny. This film was about a specific individual and a specific historical event, but, hopefully, that experience can open some eyes about public complicity in such human corruption. If the viewer is able to connect these lessons with Abu Ghraib and Guantanamo as well as Egypt, Syria, Saudi Arabia, Israel, China, Russia, and many other countries, then this film has succeeded admirably.