22/46
An absurd triptych of seemingly unrelated stories finds a mysterious intersection in this tale set somewhere between Winnipeg and Tehran. Canada’s official submission for the Best International Feature Film category at the 97th Academy Awards in From its cinematography and its usual search for symmetry, static or in traveling shots, to its narrative revolving around different characters, how their lives intersect and animate a dialogue that is sometimes polite, other times less so, a Wes Anderson influence runs through Matthew Rankin’s feature from start to finish. As in Anderson’s films, Rankin’s is interested in exploring the reality of his film, a reality full of idiosyncrasies that serves as fertile ground for comedy. An angry teacher in a classroom yelling at students, one of whom claims a turkey stole his glasses; another is dressed as Groucho Marx because he wants to be a comedian; and yet another as a fashionista. A freelance tour guide who makes strange choices for his tour, etc. With a comedy composed of ironic, deadpan and dark humor, A Universal Language manages to be hilarious whenever it wants to be. There are many times when its events border on the absurd or surreal, reinforcing the comedy around it without ever compromising its goal of thought-provoking depth. Rankin’s dexterity manages to evoke a surreal dream fable but also an expressive introspective melancholy. Elements and feelings that blend and give life to a particular experience between places and times, realities and dreams. For example, in the reality of the film, even though we are in Canada, French, let alone English, seems to be a second language, and in its place, there is Persian. They all speak it, and the signs and posters are written in that sense, which gives a result of near and far, known and unknown mixed in a new reality that is culturally and demographically blind. In terms of cinematography, often resembling Anderson’s, more in framing and movement than in color palette, there is a constant desire to inhabit the spaces where the characters are. The camera is sometimes static at a distance, observing their movements and the way they affect the environment instead of focusing on their faces and expressions with close-ups. It is as if the place is as important as the characters to the telling of the story, and Rankin wants to make sure that we are immersed in it like tourists in a foreign land. And even if in terms of names we know these cities, in the context of the film and its demographic profile which does not match our knowledge, there may be reasons to delve into these spaces.
