The Persian Version: Such a joy!

The Persian Version (2023) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated R, for profanity and sexual candor

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 11.3.23

Mothers and daughters, families and secrets.

 

The seemingly impossible divide between cultural tradition and liberated self-expression.

 

To her considerable surprise, Leila (Layla Mohammadi, left) discovers that her
(apparently) uptight mother, Shireen (Niousha Noor) is quite capable of busting a move
during a celebratory dance.

Writer/director Maryam Keshavarz’s sparkling dramedy covers all of that territory, and does so with wit, humor, poignance and the occasional — never unwelcome — buoyant dance number. The degree to which this mélange so intimately feels like somebody’s actual life is no accident; Keshavarz personally experienced most of what we see on the screen.

Storytellers are best when they write what they know, and the result here is a crowd-pleaser with several underlying morals that are even more relevant in today’s hyper-partisan society. No surprise, Keshavarz won the Waldo Salt Screenwriting Award, and her film took the Audience Award, at this year’s Sundance Film Festival. 

 

At first blush, the story seems to focus on rebellious, late-twenty-something Iranian-American Leila (Layla Mohammadi), introduced rushing through New York’s streets wearing a burka-tini — which must be seen to be believed — en route to a rowdy Halloween party. She concludes the evening by impulsively throwing herself into a one-nighter with Maximillian (Tom Byrne), garbed as the cross-dressing  Hedwig, from the 1998’s gender-queer stage musical (and later film), “Hedwig and the Angry Inch.”

 

We learn that this impulsive act is in response to a catastrophic break-up with her wife, Elena (Mia Foo), who apparently bailed because Leila is, well, difficult to be around. All of this is thrown at us in an explosive burst of exposition, some of it explained to us viewers directly, when Leila breaks the fourth wall and chats as though we’re in the same room.

 

That gimmick is disorienting the first time, but it totally works, particularly when — upon meeting her large and boisterous clan — we begin to understand why Leila has embarked on a personal campaign to become the official family screw-up.

 

And, no question, she’s a mess. But Mohammadi plays the role with such conviction, sincerity and breathtaking candor, that we can’t help adoring her. Leila unashamedly makes and owns every embarrassing personal mistake possible, and honestly believes that she’s doing a good job at living beyond the reach of her family.

 

Until her father, Ali (Bijan Daneshmand), suddenly needs a heart transplant.