The searing psychological split that is required to live in Iran today is depicted in Subtraction (Tafrigh) when an ordinary couple discovers there exists another couple in Teheran who are their exact doubles – but only physically. Their social class, moral values and personalities are quite at odds, and as they interact with their doppelgangers, a brooding atmosphere of danger grows. Set in a perpetually rain-drenched city, the story is atmospherically photographed like a wet film noir whose paradoxical twists keep veering off towards horror, as evil gains the upper hand. Yet the plot keeps you guessing, and the outcome remains uncertain till the end. Its bow in Toronto’s Platform was followed by an encore at BFI London, with sales to France and Benelux already reported.
Somewhere between a classic what-next thriller and a face-in-the-mirror shiverfest as the clone theme malignly emerges, this intriguing narrative is one of director Mani Haghighi’s most engrossing works. At a time when the exportable big-name Iranian directors have embraced hard-hitting realism tinged with violence and social outrage, this iconoclast Iranian-Canadian writer-director (who studied philosophy at McGill University in Montreal and co-wrote Asghar Farhadi’s breakthrough feature Fireworks Wednesday) has followed his own path. It has led him to increasingly elaborate fantasies and film parables (A Dragon Arrives!, Pig) with time out for one record-grossing local romcom, 50 Kilos of Sour Cherries. In the press notes for Subtraction, he has stated he wanted to make a film about “the atmosphere of Teheran” and that “living in a theocracy splits you in two… a private life, and a public mask.”
Shot in and around the COVID period (though we see traffic snarling in the streets and a rare scene inside a packed football stadium during a game), the film pre-dates the current street demonstrations and demands for freedom by women. Yet the whole atmosphere of angst and tension, confusion and uncertainty, echoes the high-pitched cinema of Saeed Roustaee (Leila’s Brothers, Just 6.5), Vahid Jalilvand (Beyond the Wall) and Reza Dormishian (I’m Not Angry!) Here the very first scene shows one office worker viciously attacking another – the who’s and why’s only emerge later – and shocking violence again erupts in the closing reels. So though the approach is psychological, Subtraction is very much a film of the here and now.
One rainy day, as she sits in her car with a pupil, driving instructor Farzaneh (Taraneh Alidoosti) thinks she sees her husband Jalal (Navid Mohammedzadeh) jumping on a bus. Quite irrationally, she leaves her car and driving student and compulsively follows him to an upscale residential area, where he conveniently appears in the window with a woman. But that night, when she confronts him with what she thinks is an affair, he insists he was out of town all day for work.
Farzaneh is in the middle of a difficult pregnancy and tells her doctor (Soheyla Razavi) she’s having hallucinations, but the doc refuses to prescribe her usual meds because they could harm or even kill the baby. Thus Farzaneh’s mood swings stop at frustration, anger and depression, and the good-hearted Jalal hardly recognizes her. His aged father (a beautifully dignified Esmail Poor-Reza) has to intervene to make peace in the family.
But Farzaneh, who has a seriously dark side, or maybe a monkey on her back, will not rest until she confronts the “other woman”. The woman in the window turns out to have her face. This is Bita (Alidoosti with a superior makeup job), a curious and compassionate housewife and the mother of a young son. Only her husband Mohsen (Mohammedzadeh), an arrogant and violent white collar worker, remains out of the loop and unaware of his uncanny resemblance to Jalal. And when he finally finds out, his reaction bodes no good. In any case, the meeting of mirror images shakes up everybody.
There are holes in the plot which are a little disturbing, but the pace of Haghighi and Amir Reza Koohestani’s screenplay is brisk enough to cover them up or at least make other facts more relevant. Both protags are surprisingly natural in their double roles, and there is rarely a moment of doubt about which character is on screen at any given time – Mohammadzadeh seems to use different facial muscles and Alidoosti (frequently on screen with her double) projects such different personalities as Bita and Farzaneh, you would swear they are two different actresses.
Morteza Najafi’s lighting bathes just about every scene in rain-soaked suspense and the unpleasant feeling that everyone is wearing wet clothing. The use of back lighting in the silky night scenes is particularly effective, heightened by the original music of Ramin Kousha and its juxtaposition of traditional and contemporary rhythms, as illustrated in the opening traffic scene. Interiors designed by Mohsen Nasrollahi make it easy to see where we are, the narrow hallways and patterned wallpaper in Farzaneh and Jalal’s apartment giving off a very different vibe from the soothing neutrals and open plan of their more well-off doubles.
Director: Mani Haghighi
Screenwriters: Amir Reza Koohestani, Mani Haghighi
Cast: Navid Mohammadzadeh, Taraneh Alidoosti, Soheyla Razavi, Esmail Poor-Reza, Farham Azizi
Producer: Majid Motalebi
Co-producer: Jean-Christophe Simon
Cinematography: Morteza Najafi
Production design: Mohsen Nasrollahi
Costume design: Neda Nasr
Editing: Meysam Molaei
Music: Ramin Kousha
Sound design: Amir Hossein Ghasemi
World sales: Films Boutique
Venue: BFI London Film Festival
In Farsi
107 minutes
