Noora Niasari’s delicate and moving “ matter ” puts viewers in the shoes of an Iranian woman in Australia who lives in a women’s shelter with her 6-year-old daughter.
The violence happens before we get into the story, but actor Zal Amir Ibrahimi’s face and body tell us everything we need to know. Any bruises that might have been there were gone, but the pain and trauma were evident. We immediately understand that she is afraid of her husband, of what he has done and what he might do, especially as she begins a process unthinkable in Iran: divorce.
We’re introduced to Sheida (Ibrahimi) and Mona (young actress Selina Zahedeniya in a heartbreaking film debut) as they try to act out what would happen if the father of her child tried to stay with her What should children do if they flee the country? It’s tense and overwhelming, a subtle dance that conveys danger and urgency without explicitly stating it.
Shayda is Nyasari’s directorial debut and is based on her own experiences. More than thirty years ago, she was a young child in an asylum with her mother. She said in the director’s statement that this was her first experience of freedom. Even without knowing this, it’s obvious that this is more than just a sympathetic look. Nyasari is not just interested in showing Sheida’s fears. There are quite a few moments in the film where we see Shayda and Mona playing, dancing, discussing hairstyles and enjoying each other’s company. This is a love letter to a mother who retained some of the magic of her childhood during extremely difficult times.
With a different storyteller, “Shayda” could have been easily exploited or manipulated, but Nyasari and her cast make it feel like real life. There are no grand monologues that overexplain everything, or gratuitous flashbacks to abuse—they’re unnecessary and all the more powerful and compelling by their absence.
While they carefully fight for custody, Mona’s father Hussein (Osama Sami) is allowed to stay with her unsupervised. Nyasari is equally thoughtful in describing him. He is gentle and respectful when we meet him, but the cracks of jealousy, possessiveness, and deep-rooted cultural expectations begin to show in subsequent encounters. Shayda could barely look at him. At the same time, he advised them to return to Iran immediately.
“Shayda” excels at illustrating the isolation within an abusive relationship, even when there’s physical separation. Her friends don’t even know where she and Mona live. Her mother wondered on the phone what she must have done when news of the secession reached Iran. Yet, even under pressure, she begins to break free from the stifling constraints of her homeland and carve out a life of her own. She cuts her hair, goes out dancing, and in a brief moment of joy, she even allows herself to flirt with a man. There’s a unique and touching growth arc as she evolves from the injured hiding bird we met at the beginning.
There’s a bit of a movie contrivance (that may still be rooted in reality), as we’re watching all of this during Nowruz, the Persian New Year, in which Sheida and Mona are often seen in public with people they know and Hussein . Of course, that means he’ll show up at some point and cause a riot.
However, his character leaves something to be desired. You understand enough, though, that ultimately the movie isn’t about him. In the climactic moment where he does cause quite a scene, you can hear another man off camera saying that he has a right to see his wife (yes, even in this angry state). It’s a throwaway line, but it also says everything about the uphill battle she faces trying to separate from him. In another scene, Hussein reminds her in no uncertain terms that she will be killed in Iran for her actions.
“Shayda” is set in 1995 but still feels relevant, and not just for Iranian women. In Nyasari we have a brave and unique new filmmaking voice and I can’t wait to see what she does next.
Sony Classics’ “Shayda,” which opens in theaters on Friday, is rated PG-13 by the Motion Picture Association of America for “thematic material, domestic violence, some violence and language.” Running time: 118 minutes. Three out of four stars.