Asghar Farhadi’s film “Nader and Simin: a separation” deservedly won a host of prizes at the 2011 Berlin Film Festival.

It can be interpreted on various different levels, but I’m not going to discuss them all here. I wanted to talk about the film because I think that anyone who has been or is close to a person with Alzheimer’s will recognise the truths it contains.

The film deals with the experience of the “sandwich generation”. People from this generation are having to cope with all the problems associated with caring for a vulnerable elderly relative, but they also have teenage children who need an equal amount of attention.

The couple at the centre of the film, which is set in modern-day Teheran, is torn between Simin, the wife’s, desire to give her daughter a better future abroad and Nader, the husband’s, wish to continue caring for his elderly father who has Alzheimer’s. The conflict between the couple eventually leads to them breaking up. We are given the impression that this is more the result of Simin pushing her husband to make a decision rather than a marital breakdown, combined with the search for a care assistant to look after Nader’s father when there’s nobody else home. Their rather hurried choice, in which the real care needs of Nader’s father are underestimated, brings in a series of other people in difficulty. The difficulty of someone who’s husband has been unemployed for too long and agrees to lie just so she can earn a living; the difficulty of someone who has lost their job and is being squeezed to death by their debts; of a judge who is understanding but is restricted by the law; and of two children who hear too many lies and are asked to go along with the story and take sides.

What struck me was how the film manages to express all the complexities of living with a fragile elderly person, particularly through the dialogue (at least in the French subtitles) which seemed to have been recorded in real situations. The actors are brilliant, and it’s no surprise that the entire cast was awarded Silver Bears for best actor and actress.

The reality is complex, and everyone sees things from their own viewpoint. The elderly man is an obstacle, a source of income, a lost soul who needs assistance, a means of revenge. But at the same time everyone sees him in a different way at different times. They take care of him and respect him; sometimes their attempts are not entirely successful; they are hesitant and have to make compromises.

At one point the son takes his father to the doctor. He needs to show that his father has deteriorated due to the situation created by the care assistant. This will help him in the legal case in which they are embroiled. Nader knows that he’s forcing his father into it, but he’s overtaken by the desire to fight a battle which he sees as unjust, using stratagems which are not entirely correct. He starts to undress his father, but then suddenly he stops. He gets him dressed again and takes him away. It’s as if he’s understood that by exposing his father’s body and mind to what is probably the umpteenth assessment, a person is being reified and used as an unconscious weapon.

If you’ve been through a similar experience, many images will catch your eye throughout the course of the film. They lead us to reflect on just how universal some situations are:  the son’s hasty but spontaneous signs of affection towards a father who barely recognises him but placidly accepts being washed, changed and dressed; the terror in the carer’s eyes as she runs along the road looking for the elderly man who has wandered off; the confusion she faces when the man suddenly becomes incontinent, requiring actions which certain religions only permit in very specific situations (before doing anything, the care assistant has to telephone the religious affairs office for special permission to help the man wash himself); the frightened cries of the eleven-year-old daughter as she helps her father pick up her unconscious grandfather; and the the gesture of the son who, as he showers his father,suddenly rests his face on his father's back and sobs with exhaustion.

After a while, we don’t know whether we’re in Teheran, Rome, London or Paris.

The film gradually reveals all the aspects of a truth which is much more complex than we originally thought. But it confirms that some experiences go far beyond language and culture, and that many alliances can still be built between non-professional carers, professional caregivers and the person being cared for.

Rita Bencivenga, Studio Taf

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