The Stoning of Soraya M. Review
It’s easy to see why someone would want to make a film like this. The true story behind The Stoning of Soraya M is one that smacks of injustice and appeals rather dramatically to our sense of fairness. But it’s also an intimate story, and one that gives the film maker a chance to explore the nature of people and how we relate to each other in a way that a news story cannot.
There’s a danger though, that the powerful motivation to inform, to make a difference, can overwhelm the subtler, more difficult exploration of who we are and why we do what we do.
In portraying the real events that took place in an Iranian village leading to the ritual stoning of Soraya M in 1986, this film oscillates between the two – the powerful, judgmental big picture and the compassionate, human-scale detail.
Sweeping vistas and picturesque shots of a photogenic mountaintop village run the risk of feeling otherworldly, but dusty old cars and modern chrome door handles bring us down to earth, to the here and now. Scenes of intimate realism help to reign in the melodrama – Soraya storming out on her husband must pause to wrap her headscarf round her before she goes; her aunt Zahra stridently defends her against the village gossips, but must do so while queuing in the bakery.
A child’s awkwardness in saying a final goodbye to her mother, or two women singing softly while preparing for the inevitable stoning ritual – these details are soft, subtle and genuinely touching.
At other times, however, the big picture takes over. Artfully composed cinematography, while pretty, keeps us as a distance, while slow motion footage and soaring choral music seem to be considered necessary to tell us when we should be feeling moved. Characters are divided into good and evil in this film with a simplicity and reliance on stereotypes that’s almost insulting to the viewer – it’s as if we’re not trusted to care enough.
With stories such as this, filmmakers could probably assume the audience has the requisite empathy and intelligence to comprehend the gravity of the events. They’re liberated from the who, what, how and when and can focus much more meaningfully on the why. Why would any group of us treat one of our own in this way?
Director Cyrus Nowrasteh says he wants the audience to ask themselves: “what would I do in this situation?” But in The Stoning of Soraya M he tends to avoid portraying the complexity of human nature, the darker things within all of us, and allows the viewer to inhabit the moral high ground all too comfortably. He makes this question too easy for us to answer.
Kathy Alys