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Leila’s Brothers, 2022
Leila (Taraneh Alidoosti) is the only daughter in a family controlled by her father, Esmail (Saeed Poursamimi). Due to sanctions on Iran, the economy is in turmoil, and despite being well into middle age, Leila and her brothers are all out of work or living on the fringe. Leila organizes her brothers in a plan to purchase a unit in a new commercial complex. But when Esmail sees a chance to be named patriarch of the extended family, he reveals that he has a stash of valuable gold coins. Seeing a chance to own a business, Leila and her brothers must try to get their father to use the coins for them.
This is a bruising, frustrating look at the limitations imposed by both patriarchy and international relations.
You get the impression that this family would be a bit of a mess even if the economy around them weren’t a total shambles. Father Esmail is obsessed with the prestige that comes with being the patriarch of the family. Leila simmers with resentment for her father’s past actions and her thankless role as family maid. And her brothers, from the naive Alireza (Navid Mohammadzadeh) to the reckless Farhad (Mohammad Ali Mohammadi), can’t seem to follow through with a plan of action.
There are two layers to this movie. On the surface, it’s sort of a family drama comedy. Esmail’s scheming and obsession with being named patriarch. The brothers getting sucked into a scam in which they must knowingly con someone else down the line in order to make a profit. At one point, the brothers try to sell Esmail on the location of their future business----currently a block of public toilets----and their sales pitch is continually interrupted by the distinct sounds of the business being conducted in those toilets.
But this family does not have the luxury of riding the rollercoaster of wacky familial hijinks, because the patriarchal system to which they belong is nakedly corrupt, and the larger economy in which they are trying to survive is increasingly, impossibly dire.
On the patriarchal front, what gets exposed the longer the film goes on is just how hollow the role of patriarch is. Rather than an impactful leadership role, the duty of patriarch seems to be more about helping families take advantage of others. A wealthy relative promises Esmail the role of patriarch as part of making a large gift at a wedding. It’s all under the guise of following the wishes of the former patriarch (recently deceased), but at heart it’s just a scam, a way of buying attention.
But the even darker aspect is the way that it’s revealed that Esmail has failed in his literal role as patriarch. The more we learn about the way that Esmail has deliberately denied his children happiness, the more their schemes to get their hands on his money makes a kind of karmic sense. We learn that in order to keep Leila close to home, he told a man who loved her that Leila was diseased. We learn that he similarly scuttled Alireza’s romantic prospects. While it at first appears that Leila is scheming and ungrateful, we soon see how Esmail’s manipulations and emotional blackmail run far deeper than any of the maneuvers his children are capable of. Worse, when Esmail realizes the trouble his family is in, he chooses to double down from a place of pride.
Surrounding all of this is the cruel reality that international sanctions, while effective to some degree, ultimately fall hardest on those at the bottom of the social ladder. An early scene features a television playing in the background, from which Donald Trump brays “America first!”. The economy is so volatile that having (or not having) a certain amount of money one moment might mean nothing the next day. This adds a cruelty to multiple sequences. A character cannot triumphantly say “I’ve raised the money”, because the next day this merely represents 60% of what they need. This creates an environment of desperation and a need to make on-the-spot decisions. When Leila implores with her brothers that they may never again have this chance, you get the sense that she is not speaking hyperbolically. Further, it could be easy to say that this family is in financial straits because of their own blundering, but at a certain point you have to wonder just who can be successful in this environment. Only the already-wealthy and the conmen it seems.
Overall I thought this was quite good. You see how Leila must rely on convincing her family to try and act in their own best interest, needing them to leverage what they have and work together in order to pull themselves up from poverty. I particularly liked the way that they position Leila in the beginning of the film, only to reveal more and more of the family history and dynamics as the story unfolds.
I liked the performances across the board, and in particular Alidoosti’s performance as Leila and the way that Mohammadzadeh matches her intensity with Alireza’s gentle naivete. Poursamimi is very memorable as the selfish patriarch, using his position and money to bend his family to his will.
Leila’s Brothers, 2022
Leila (Taraneh Alidoosti) is the only daughter in a family controlled by her father, Esmail (Saeed Poursamimi). Due to sanctions on Iran, the economy is in turmoil, and despite being well into middle age, Leila and her brothers are all out of work or living on the fringe. Leila organizes her brothers in a plan to purchase a unit in a new commercial complex. But when Esmail sees a chance to be named patriarch of the extended family, he reveals that he has a stash of valuable gold coins. Seeing a chance to own a business, Leila and her brothers must try to get their father to use the coins for them.
This is a bruising, frustrating look at the limitations imposed by both patriarchy and international relations.
You get the impression that this family would be a bit of a mess even if the economy around them weren’t a total shambles. Father Esmail is obsessed with the prestige that comes with being the patriarch of the family. Leila simmers with resentment for her father’s past actions and her thankless role as family maid. And her brothers, from the naive Alireza (Navid Mohammadzadeh) to the reckless Farhad (Mohammad Ali Mohammadi), can’t seem to follow through with a plan of action.
There are two layers to this movie. On the surface, it’s sort of a family drama comedy. Esmail’s scheming and obsession with being named patriarch. The brothers getting sucked into a scam in which they must knowingly con someone else down the line in order to make a profit. At one point, the brothers try to sell Esmail on the location of their future business----currently a block of public toilets----and their sales pitch is continually interrupted by the distinct sounds of the business being conducted in those toilets.
But this family does not have the luxury of riding the rollercoaster of wacky familial hijinks, because the patriarchal system to which they belong is nakedly corrupt, and the larger economy in which they are trying to survive is increasingly, impossibly dire.
On the patriarchal front, what gets exposed the longer the film goes on is just how hollow the role of patriarch is. Rather than an impactful leadership role, the duty of patriarch seems to be more about helping families take advantage of others. A wealthy relative promises Esmail the role of patriarch as part of making a large gift at a wedding. It’s all under the guise of following the wishes of the former patriarch (recently deceased), but at heart it’s just a scam, a way of buying attention.
But the even darker aspect is the way that it’s revealed that Esmail has failed in his literal role as patriarch. The more we learn about the way that Esmail has deliberately denied his children happiness, the more their schemes to get their hands on his money makes a kind of karmic sense. We learn that in order to keep Leila close to home, he told a man who loved her that Leila was diseased. We learn that he similarly scuttled Alireza’s romantic prospects. While it at first appears that Leila is scheming and ungrateful, we soon see how Esmail’s manipulations and emotional blackmail run far deeper than any of the maneuvers his children are capable of. Worse, when Esmail realizes the trouble his family is in, he chooses to double down from a place of pride.
Surrounding all of this is the cruel reality that international sanctions, while effective to some degree, ultimately fall hardest on those at the bottom of the social ladder. An early scene features a television playing in the background, from which Donald Trump brays “America first!”. The economy is so volatile that having (or not having) a certain amount of money one moment might mean nothing the next day. This adds a cruelty to multiple sequences. A character cannot triumphantly say “I’ve raised the money”, because the next day this merely represents 60% of what they need. This creates an environment of desperation and a need to make on-the-spot decisions. When Leila implores with her brothers that they may never again have this chance, you get the sense that she is not speaking hyperbolically. Further, it could be easy to say that this family is in financial straits because of their own blundering, but at a certain point you have to wonder just who can be successful in this environment. Only the already-wealthy and the conmen it seems.
Overall I thought this was quite good. You see how Leila must rely on convincing her family to try and act in their own best interest, needing them to leverage what they have and work together in order to pull themselves up from poverty. I particularly liked the way that they position Leila in the beginning of the film, only to reveal more and more of the family history and dynamics as the story unfolds.
I liked the performances across the board, and in particular Alidoosti’s performance as Leila and the way that Mohammadzadeh matches her intensity with Alireza’s gentle naivete. Poursamimi is very memorable as the selfish patriarch, using his position and money to bend his family to his will.