3 Faces played on May 18th at the Seattle International Film Festival and is coming to year round SIFF from June 28th to July 4th at SIFF Uptown.
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Nine years ago, after Iran’s installment of his 20-year filmmaking ban, director Jafar Panahi, as a form of rebellion, smuggled his film, This is Not a Film, through a cake to get it to Cannes. Despite the attempt to silence him, Panahi sent a message: He will still create films. Since the establishment of this ban, Panahi has directed three films, risking six extra years added toward his ban for every new movie, the latest of which being 3 Faces.
Despite the political nature of Panahi making a film, 3 Faces may be his least political film yet. Infusing the documentary-fiction genre that Panahi regularly uses, 3 Faces stars Panahi and actress Behnaz Jafari as themselves. After viewing a distressed fan’s suicide video, Jafari and Panahi trek to a small Iranian village to uncover what led to the fan’s death. Throughout their journey, their interactions with the traditionalist village produce the discovery and analysis of the deep-rooted issues of misogyny and creative oppression in tradition-soaked areas.
3 Faces is not a technically impressive film. There are no long single takes or complicated camera angles. Instead, 3 Faces relies on its cinematic simplicity and powerful script to create a well-structured and paced film. In its somewhat episodic nature, 3 Faces uses Jafari and Panahi’s unique and idiosyncratic encounters to create a compelling tale. During each little episode, the film asks us to think about the reasons behind the often strange traditions and actions of the village. Why does the village have an annoying traffic control system if it could build a two-way street? Why is there an old lady happily prepping her own grave? Why does the town idolize Jafari’s television series, but banish its citizens from talking to the town’s only actress?
As Panahi poses these questions, he also asks us to ponder them as he allows their meanings and emotional pleas to linger, without overbearing, through each scene. However, the one thing he does not want us to do with these questions is to ridicule them. In each sequence, Panahi shoots with a mixture of endearment, light-heartedness, and exasperation. Panahi does not want us to attack the members of this village, as he understands the difficulty of changing the minds of traditionalists. Regardless, he does understand its frustration, especially as the suicide of the fan and its ramifications start to expose the fundamentally wrong ways of thinking the village harbors in regards to gender equality and creative expression.
With the mystery of the suicide video solved halfway through the film, Panahi’s intentions are revealed. Despite 3 Faces being one of Panahi’s least political films, he still manages to inject a provocative, feminist, and generational tale from within. From its title, it is clear; this film is about three faces. It is not until halfway through the film that we discover the three faces do not actually include Panahi, who acts more as a viewer rather than an enactor. Instead, the three faces reflect the three generations of women within the film, Jafari, the fan, and the banished former actress; it analyzes and condemns the similar oppressions that these three actresses have faced when expressing creative freedom, or any freedom at all, in these traditionalist societies. Utilizing on-the-go shooting styles, Panahi creates a Neo-realist and documentarian-esque tone, while supporting a feeling of urgency, realism, and importance in urging us to understand that these issues are very much current and real.
Combining these cinematically simplistic moments with an affectionate yet exasperated frame and powerful script, Panahi creates a quiet and magnetic film. However, what makes 3 Faces unique is the optimistic view that Panahi has towards the very society that he is critiquing. He is hopeful for these women and the endings that each may receive, showing compassion and respect for all of them. There is a sense of positivity that is rare in political films as he invites a hope that his subjects will, one day, rise above it all. For a director that has every right to feel victimized by the society he lives in, he instead decides to shine the spotlight on others, and in doing so, creates a quiet, yet emphatic, powerful, and provocative feminist tale.
4/5 STARS