AFTER SEEING Persepolis in November at the Virginia Film Festival, I described the film as “the highlight of the festival” and wrote that “if there is justice in the world, Persepolis should have a decent shot at an Oscar either for animated feature or foreign language film. With any luck, both.” The nominations were handed down last month, and Persepolis was one of three animated features to get a nod. Unfortunately, one tiny obstacle stands in its way: that damn rat-chef movie.
Now, don’t get me wrong; Ratatouille is a fine little film. As far as Pixar movies go, it’s right up there with The Incredibles and Toy Story. But Persepolis is everything the Academy exists to reward. It’s an engaging and accessible artistic achievement–a moving depiction of life as few of us will ever have the chance to experience. More people have seen Ratatouille, to be sure–it has grossed more than $600 million worldwide–but no one will mistake it for high art. The Oscars shouldn’t be a popularity contest.
Persepolis is the adaptation of the graphic novel by Marjane Satrapi, a biographical multivolume collection set in Iran. As the movie begins, the Shah is ripe for a fall and revolution is in the air; Satrapi’s parents are liberals opposed to the regime and her uncle is an imprisoned Communist. As upheaval sweeps the land and the Shah is forced into exile, a mood of optimism settles on little Marjane and her family; finally, the proletariat will take power! But as is so often the case in revolutionary settings, things go from bad to worse. The new Iran is no socialist paradise; instead of being oppressed by the Shah and his cronies, Marjane’s family is oppressed by the religious zealots who have seized control.
It’s all downhill from there. War breaks out between Iraq and Iran and missiles rain down on Tehran, giving the clerics a chance to consolidate their power and eliminate their enemies. Marjane’s uncle is arrested again and eventually executed, an action that costs the little girl her faith. Parties, alcohol, and even playing cards are no longer allowed; women become second class citizens, forced to wear a head scarf in public and take orders from idiots with guns. The family soon realizes this is no place for an intelligent, independent girl like Marjane to grow up, and she is shipped off to Vienna. There she meets spoiled European teens who know nothing of hardship even while they embrace nihilist and anti-American sentiments.
The film’s politics oscillate between pro- and anti-American. Marjane’s father comes off as something of a useful idiot, an idealist who blames “the West” for both the Shah and the Iran-Iraq war. But it wasn’t the West that sent young men running through mine fields to protect Iranian tanks. And it wasn’t the West who slapped head scarves on Iran’s women and made throwing a party a capital offense. In fact, the West is one of the few outlets that the youngest Satrapi has; in one amusing scene, Marjane ventures into a black market for Western goods. The street corner looks like something out of The Wire . . . if Baltimore’s drug peddlers pushed the latest Michael Jackson album instead of smack.
Snugly tucked in between political upheaval and religious fundamentalism is a relatively conventional tale of adolescent strife set in a world that seems unfriendly and unfamiliar. Marjane suffers repeated heartache, first in Vienna and then back in Iran. Growing up is no easier in the Middle East than in middle America, it seems. The style of animation is refreshingly old fashioned; it’s nice to see a traditional, hand drawn film hit the big screen. Done almost entirely in a stark black and white, directors Satrapi and Vincent Paronnaud remain faithful to the source material’s look. And the voice work is quite good–though it is in French, with English subtitles.
Persepolis isn’t a happy film; while consistently amusing, Satrapi’s take on her life is by no means a contented one. It is, however, an important film. It takes us inside one of the planet’s worst regimes at a time when that regime is the focus of the world’s attention. Persepolis might not have the flash or panache of Ratatouille, but it does have more heart. With any luck, that might be enough to pull off a surprise win later this month at the Kodak Theatre.
Sonny Bunch is assistant editor at THE WEEKLY STANDARD.
