No Sacred Cows
Maryam Moghaddam dons three hats in her quietly raging screed against sexism and Iran’s broken justice system.
Ballad of a White Cow
Directors: Behtash Sanaeeha, Maryam Moghaddam • Writers: Mehrdad Kouroshniya, Behtash Sanaeeha, Maryam Moghaddam
Starring: Maryam Moghaddam, Alireza Sani Far, Pouria Rahimi Sam, Avin Poor Raoufi, Lili Farhadpour
Iran • 1hr 46mins
Opens Hong Kong July 14 • IIA
Grade: B+
At the beginning of co-writer, co-director and star Maryam Moghaddam’s Ballad of a White Cow, we learn just how unbending (when needed) and determined Mina (Moghaddam), a dairy factory worker, is. The first shots are of her marching into an Iranian prison to see her husband, Babak, in the minutes before he’s executed (Iran ranks second in executions annually, behind China). Amin Jafari’s images are steady and claustrophobic, and it becomes clear later in the film that the walls are closing in on Mina as a widow, and as a working-class single mother. They’re closing in on her because she’s a woman in theocratic Iran who had the audacity to make demands and question “God’s will.”
Austere in that typically Iranian way, White Cow is one of the most restrained screeds you’ll ever see, but it is indeed angry. It’s also a portrait of an emerging society hell bent on clinging to outdated concepts of gender disenfranchisement that only punishes itself. White Cow is the kind of stark-bleak snapshot of Iranian injustices and the casual acceptance of them that have made Asghar Farhadi, the late Abbas Kiarostami, and Jafar Panahi superstars on the festival circuit, sometimes beyond. And yeah, it’s an aesthetic that’s not to every taste. “Methodical” and “measured” are common adjectives, and they apply here too. But Moghaddam and co-director/spouse Behtash Sanaeeha have made a film that slots in nicely with that aforementioned elite lot, even if it gets a little tangled in its overly-dramatic narrative in the late stages.
If it’s too good to be true…
So, about a year after her gutting final moments with her husband, Mina gets a message from some ministry or other informing her that, woops! They executed the wrong guy and her husband was innocent of his crime, just like he said. Too bad, so sad. The bureaucrat-slash-automaton who blandly informs her of this heinous error – he could literally be asking her to confirm her selected seats at a cinema – says she’ll get the standard compensation for a working aged adult male (good to know they set on a figure for this), and have a lovely weekend. Mina is as baffled as she is pissed, but in a very low-key way. Moghaddam is flawless in her performance as a woman who doesn’t want to rock the boat, but she sure as shit wants to rock the boat.
It’s when Mina demands some form of public apology that her troubles really start. The justice department dodges her requests, and none of the judges who condemned Babak will face her. Her deaf daughter Bita (Avin Poor Raoufi) is mixing it up at school, and though his wife is kind, her landlord is losing patience with her late rent. But there’s more. Unsurprisingly Babak’s money-grubbing brother (Pouria Rahimi Sam) starts demanding she move in with him and his father – for Bita’s sake of course – and threatens to sue her for custody of Bita if she doesn’t. Finally there’s Reza (Alireza Sani Far), a man who shows up out of the blue claiming he owed Babak several million toman, and that though he’s passed away, he’d like to repay the debt. The timing couldn’t be better for Mina, and Reza turns out to be a great ally. Or is he?
Saviour or damnation? It’s Iran. Both
The second half of the film turns into something of an emotional mystery, which any seasoned film-goer will see coming a mile away (though there’s also no caginess on Sanaeeha and Moghaddam’s part), and the extra sub-plot involving Reza and his son could easily be jettisoned. It adds nothing to the story, and anyway Ballad of a White Cow is about Mina and her fight, her anger, her frustration and, ultimately, her emancipation. The woes of a man have no place here. That said, it’s a minor detour that doesn’t throw a wrench in the works either. In many ways it gives the closing sequences of the film a great deal of its heft. It might be a strange analogy but they recall the final frames of Thelma & Louise. Some people (usually dudes) shook their heads and tsk-tsked at the duo choosing to drive off the cliff, but a lot of women came close to jumping out of their seats with fist pump and a hearty “Fuck, yeah!” The last shots of Ballad of a White Cow are equally, if less flashily, triumphant for Mina. How do you say that in Persian? — DEK