The Oath (Ghasam)
Mohsen Tanabandeh's The Oath is an intense, thematically weighted drama that explores the depths of morality with an expressive eye on the Iranian judicial system and women's rights.
Aforementioned above, there are two layers of depth presented in Tanabandeh's feature. The first being an often dark yet humanistic approach on morality, an element that dives deep into the harsh vengeance of revenge and its physiological disposition that evolves into an almost animalistic taste for blood. Curated with subtle nuances through a barbed screenplay from the writer/director, of whom adds a razor-sharp edge to his screenplay with a stong varied and multifaceted dialogue on the theme of morality in question.
In any other feature, a larger cast-list such as what The Oath inhabits, may be detrimental. However, here, it adds multiple degrees of discussion and debate that elevate the themes and, ultimately, the decision these characters process with an array of thought. There is never one clear answer, and even when the film reveals itself with a transparent image on its narrative, consequence of action – regardless of which side is on – is still an integral and thought-provoking analysis of human nature.
Presented authentically and darkly, it is the honesty of this approach catered through a mass cast list that crafts an engaging dynamic with a stunning central performance from actress Mahnaz Afshar as Razieh. A character conflicted with a haunting amount of pain and revenge, Razieh is explored with an intense amount of emotional weight and range – the latter of which is a striking element to Afshar's performance that engulfs the viewer with all its heartbreak and fire. Afshar's performance is one that evolves in a ticking time bomb of emotional ferociousness. It is a slow rise, but before long, that inevitable clock strikes and devastatingly lays waste.
The second layer present in Tanabandeh's The Oath is that of its subtle conversation on Iranian policy – with a strong emphasis on the word subtle. While these themes and dialogue are present, they are an underbelly aspect that is never a central figure. Tanabandeh subtly integrates the reflection of Iranian society in small nuances, implemented for the most part through the screenplay but best exercised in small stoic moments of reflection that allows the rush of the film to breathe. These elements craft a more profound and powerful feature but, granted, are never brought to the surface for what could be political and censorship reasons.
At a lean running time of around eighty minutes, a strong central performance from Mahnaz Afshar – who holds this film with her talent alone – and a swift and engaging edit coupled with a tense and atmospheric narrative, Mohsen Tanabandeh's The Oath is a compelling brewing pot of the depth of morality in a feature that presents the darker side of humanity and points fingers at the system.