'Disappearance': Venice Review
Dir: Ali Asgari. Iran-Qatar. 2017. 88 mins.

By Allan Hunter, screendaily.com
8 September 2017
Source: Doha Film Institute

An Iranian couple get caught in a web of lies in Ali Asgari’s precisely crafted debut.

Winner of the 2018 ‘Sepanta Award’ as the best film at Iranian Film Festival - San Fransisco.

• Orizzonti Competition. Venice Film Festival 2017
• Discovery, Toronto Film Festival 2017

A young couple’s relationship is tested through a long winter’s night of moral dilemmas and impossible choices in Disappearance (Napadid Shodan).



The first feature from experienced shorts director Ali Asgari is a precisely crafted, modestly proportioned drama that draws out the wider political resonance from a tale of individual heartache:

Festival interest and some commercial potential should result from its high profile exposure at Venice and Toronto.

Disappearance initially has the feel of film noir as a taxi glides through the shadowy streets of Tehran. A woman heads to the emergency department of a hospital; we only see the back of her head and the way her breath catches in the cold night air.

Teenage architecture student Sara (Sadaf Asgari, the director’s niece) claims to have been raped. Her blood pressure is low, she is bleeding and may require an operation. Yet, there is something about the situation that doesn’t ring true.

Sara is unusually calm and composed. Her brother Hamed (Amir Reza Ranjbaran) swiftly arrives at the hospital almost as if he has been nearby, expecting a call.



Ali Asgari maintains a tight hold on the material as the night unfolds

There is clearly something else going on, and Asgari quickly cuts through the uncertainty to explore the consequences for a young, unmarried couple in Iran who have become sexually active. As we follow the couple through a succession of hospital departments, it becomes clear that the need for urgent medical attention is secondary to the swift judgements of staff and the unbending rules of the society that surrounds them. It is no coincidence that the hospitals all have the same bland look or that the characters are forever walking along anonymous corridors, travelling in circles, trapped in a labyrinth of bureaucracy and regulations.

Sara has lied to her family, and the dishonesty spreads like a virus. Her parents cannot know that she has lost her virginity, and yet it seems unlikely that she can receive proper treatment without the consent of her parents. Equally, the web of falsehoods and fabrications starts to take its toll on the trust between the couple. Sara grows increasingly anxious about Hamed’s reliability; every absence feels like a chance to abandon her, even if he has only left to use the toilet.