Raiders
11-12-2007, 01:51 PM
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/arts/graphics/filmslide/persepolis/Persepolis3.jpg
I have never read Marjane Satrapi's comic books that deal with her youth in turbulent Iran, but I have now seen the film based on them, and it is glorious. Satrapi clearly uses these cartoon representations of her life as a means of confession and anger management, with the former being shown through her lack of romanticism for her country and her own actions as a youth. There is a poignancy inherent in this type of honesty as the film feels very much ripped from the gaping heart of its wounded if resilient creator-cum-protagonist.
The story starts off as Marjane is a youth in Iran on the eve of the revolution that would change everything. There is greatness to be found in the little moments, such as when the film depicts children arguing over heroism as defined by who has served the longest jail sentence. Satrapi's revelations of the innocence, immaturity and preciousness of childhood are heartbreaking in their simplicity and in their ability to be neither sad nor happy. They exist as fleeting moments adding up to the tapestry of a real, dynamic life.
Almost as if overnight, the rules of her society are changing; she must now dress in extensive clothing and cover her face; the adults in her life are seemingly troubled and disappearing. Marjane remains a rebellious spirit, unsure of the direction of her life and country but positive that she has an opinion. Her conversations with God are useful devices for showing her childhood dream of becoming a prophet, and the sign of her drastic changes are echoed in God's own repetition of Karl Marx's statement "keep up the fight." Her beliefs and will, as well as her childhood ambition, must persevere if she is to keep alive.
The film has a wonderful way of underlining the serious, dangerous material with moments of humor and human folly that makes up an individual. When Marjane is shipped to Vienna by her worried parents, she falls in love with her vision of the perfect man. Once her heart is broken, she quickly revises that vision in order to not become too discouraged. The Vienna section is filled with perhaps the film's greatest insight: Marjane, no matter how reluctant, cannot exist without her family and the identification of her own country and kinsmen. A girl forced to wear a mask over her face and to be objectified by a misogynistic society can still yearn for that society because she knows nothing else. Her formative years corrupted by political and warring forces and she cannot identify herself as anything but Iranian.
And so the film's ending seems inevitable. There is no way to win this situation, but throughout the journey Marjane is empowered and cut down by herself, her own creator. Upon returning, she avoids being captured by the police by framing an innocent bystander for lewd behavior. She feels empowered, but upon revealing her actions to her grandmother, she is made to feel dirty and guilty. She has used against an innocent person what society has seen to take from her: her sense of feminism and sexuality.
The animation in the film, as directed by both Satrapi and fellow animator Vincent Paronnaud, is enrapturing in its evocative simplicity. There are shades of expressionism in its noir-ish landscapes, the black and white figures shaping the shadowy mise-en-scene. The film's style is plaintive on the surface, but its economical visual grace belies the remarkably dynamic story and character that bubbles under the surface, one that exists in anything but two-tones.
I have never read Marjane Satrapi's comic books that deal with her youth in turbulent Iran, but I have now seen the film based on them, and it is glorious. Satrapi clearly uses these cartoon representations of her life as a means of confession and anger management, with the former being shown through her lack of romanticism for her country and her own actions as a youth. There is a poignancy inherent in this type of honesty as the film feels very much ripped from the gaping heart of its wounded if resilient creator-cum-protagonist.
The story starts off as Marjane is a youth in Iran on the eve of the revolution that would change everything. There is greatness to be found in the little moments, such as when the film depicts children arguing over heroism as defined by who has served the longest jail sentence. Satrapi's revelations of the innocence, immaturity and preciousness of childhood are heartbreaking in their simplicity and in their ability to be neither sad nor happy. They exist as fleeting moments adding up to the tapestry of a real, dynamic life.
Almost as if overnight, the rules of her society are changing; she must now dress in extensive clothing and cover her face; the adults in her life are seemingly troubled and disappearing. Marjane remains a rebellious spirit, unsure of the direction of her life and country but positive that she has an opinion. Her conversations with God are useful devices for showing her childhood dream of becoming a prophet, and the sign of her drastic changes are echoed in God's own repetition of Karl Marx's statement "keep up the fight." Her beliefs and will, as well as her childhood ambition, must persevere if she is to keep alive.
The film has a wonderful way of underlining the serious, dangerous material with moments of humor and human folly that makes up an individual. When Marjane is shipped to Vienna by her worried parents, she falls in love with her vision of the perfect man. Once her heart is broken, she quickly revises that vision in order to not become too discouraged. The Vienna section is filled with perhaps the film's greatest insight: Marjane, no matter how reluctant, cannot exist without her family and the identification of her own country and kinsmen. A girl forced to wear a mask over her face and to be objectified by a misogynistic society can still yearn for that society because she knows nothing else. Her formative years corrupted by political and warring forces and she cannot identify herself as anything but Iranian.
And so the film's ending seems inevitable. There is no way to win this situation, but throughout the journey Marjane is empowered and cut down by herself, her own creator. Upon returning, she avoids being captured by the police by framing an innocent bystander for lewd behavior. She feels empowered, but upon revealing her actions to her grandmother, she is made to feel dirty and guilty. She has used against an innocent person what society has seen to take from her: her sense of feminism and sexuality.
The animation in the film, as directed by both Satrapi and fellow animator Vincent Paronnaud, is enrapturing in its evocative simplicity. There are shades of expressionism in its noir-ish landscapes, the black and white figures shaping the shadowy mise-en-scene. The film's style is plaintive on the surface, but its economical visual grace belies the remarkably dynamic story and character that bubbles under the surface, one that exists in anything but two-tones.