Hamoun (1990)
Cast: Ezzatolah Entezami, Bita Farahi, Sedigheh Kianfar
Directors: Dariush Mehrjui
Country: Iran
Genre: Drama
Website: TIFF
Editor’s Notes: The following review is part of our coverage for TIFF’s I for Iran: A History of Iranian Cinema. For more information on upcoming TIFF film series visit http://tiff.net and follow TIFF on Twitter at @TIFF_NET.
Hamid Hamoun, an unsettled member of the Iranian middle-class, works as a salesman by day and an aspiring writer at night. After an alarming and ambiguous dream sequence, Hamoun opens with the title character bunkered up in a barren apartment, clothes, dishes, and his PhD materials strewn about. From the outset, Hamoun is noticeably flustered: he wakes from a dream involving a devilish figure and a woman we assume is his wife, he shatters a glass, a strong wind swipes many of his papers, and his lawyer visits the apartment (which we learn belongs to him rather than Hamoun) to declare that Hamoun is foolish in trying to cling to his feelings toward his wife, feelings not reciprocated in any part.
Like many films hailing from Iran, social strata play seminal roles in the film, and serve as active motivators in the plot rather than a simple framework in which the narrative unfolds.
Like many films hailing from Iran, social strata play seminal roles in the film, and serve as active motivators in the plot rather than a simple framework in which the narrative unfolds. Hamoun is first introduced as a PhD candidate writing a thesis, and only later as an employee of a typical white-collar company, the order Hamoun himself would most likely prefer. He surrounds his new abode with research and papers just as the apartment he shared with his wife was filled with books and other marks of his intellectual blessings. This haughty sense of scholarly superiority is both Hamoun’s strength and the prominent cause of his demise; his wife was initially attracted to his drive and scholarly ambition which was disproportionate to his social status, while eventually growing tired of his tediously critical nature. Her pursuits as an abstract painter, which she herself struggles with from a larger context, are an easy target for the unstable Hamoun, and begin to dig the rift between the couple that so devastates Hamoun.
Because we’re privy to all parts of Hamoun’s conscious and subconscious thoughts, the audience is effectively in the head of a strained individual fighting to keep his wits about him. As the flustered Hamoun drops deeper into desperation, so too does the audience as the film drudges further into his insanity. Like an annoying gnashing of teeth, director Dariush Mehrjui begins to purposefully and effectively conflate Hamoun’s fantasies from his realities, and the more Hamoun attempts to regain the initial allure of his relationship with his wife, the less clear these delineations between Hamoun’s visions (fantasies?) and his reality becomes.
At a jam-packed two-hour runtime, Hamoun most suffers from the oversaturation of it’s central premise.
At a jam-packed two-hour runtime, Hamoun most suffers from the oversaturation of it’s central premise. Hamoun’s descent through only three or four of the stages of grief is packed with flashbacks of the happier times of his marriage, parables from a past teacher of his, and daydreams encompassing messages about the impending culture-clash of his country. Several of these tracks help reinforce the atmosphere of frustration that is so potent and tangible in Hamoun, while others seem to elongate a tragic story to no end. Our initial introduction to the relatively-amenable Hamoun is engaging and the film’s finale is devastating and fitting, yet there are a few too many stops on his journey to keep the mood consistently funereal.
Hamoun is frustrating to sit through but a joy to behold as a complete work of personal tragedy. Where many films follow the characters who either win the returned affection of their sweethearts or move on from the relationship through an emotional transformation, Hamoun documents the depressing soul who cannot bear to remain alone. Mehrjui encompasses the near-entirety of a very personal story while also relating it to contemporary, national issues. Additionally, Hamoun’s journey up the social ladder speaks far beyond the borders of Iran, and is a heartbreaking account of how these enterprises don’t always end in victory.
Hamoun is frustrating to sit through but a joy to behold as a complete work of personal tragedy. Where many films follow the characters who either win the returned affection of their sweethearts or move on from the relationship through an emotional transformation, Hamoun documents the depressing soul who cannot bear to remain alone.
