A Hero
“A Hero” asks us to trust the word of Rahim, a man whose been in prison for being unable to pay his debts, when he has two days leave from prison, and is trying to pay his debts. He seems charming enough, with people who care about him, and a son he cares for, but the question of where the gold came from will haunt him throughout this film’s two hours. It’s a fair question, but considering it was given to someone else, as opposed to going towards his own debts, is it a question that even requires asking? That’s at the heart of Asghar Farhadi’s film.
As we learn more about Rahim (played by Amir Jadidi) throughout the film, and what lead him to get a loan he was unable to pay back to begin with, we empathize with him further, but seeing the way this situation unfolds, our skepticism about his motives are certainly in question. At a time where people in the United States are debating the ethics of cancelling student debt, “A Hero” can be seen as a thoughtful piece of drama illustrating all sides of the issue of debt forgiveness. I’m not saying Farhadi had it in mind while making this film, since the Iranian director is making cinema in his own country, but if you’re an audience member who doesn’t quite know if you want to watch an Iranian film, from one of the most notable voices in world cinema (and one I need to catch up with myself), maybe that will inspire you to do so.
Given all the details about the initial loan, I can understand the viewpoint of Bahram (Mohsen Tanabandeh), the man who gave Rahim the loan, in wanting assurances that the entire loan is paid back; after all, if he were to take the 70000 Rahim can offer him now, who’s to say that Rahim will pay back the rest? At a certain point, though, reason should be extended, and after three years, Bahram is out of reason and patience. What good does it do him, though, for Rahim to remain in prison, unable to substantially pay him back? This is where the fact that, after Bahram’s initial refusal of the 70000, Rahim then places an ad to try and give back the gold to the owner, and does so, should be taken into account. Is he truly without honor, as Bahram paints him? After he gets the gold back to the own, Rahim is painted as an everyman “hero” in the media, and a charitable organization tries to raise money for him, but Bahram isn’t entirely convinced that Rahim has turned a new leaf, and questions remain about the validity of his story.
At the beginning of the film, we never see how Farkhondeh (Sahar Goldust), Rahim’s girlfriend, gets the purse of gold, but as we see them deal with it afterwards, it’s easy to think that they are being genuine in how they came across it. The question is ultimately, why did they give it away, to find the owner? Were they hoping for a reward for themselves? Was it because the payout for selling it wasn’t going to be enough for his purposes? Was it simply the right thing to do? After 44 years of living on this Earth, I don’t know that you can look at choices like this in a completely binary perspective. Regardless of what led to that choice, it was the choice that was made. The way people react to it speaks to how people are capable of snap judgments, and sometimes, incapable of seeing through their own biases. What we see in the film is, I suppose, heroic, but the individual ultimately is just as flawed and fallible as any of us. Both can be true.
Watching the film reach it’s conclusion, it doesn’t feel surprising that what happens, ultimately happens. Sometimes, the best deeds don’t go unpunished, and such is the case with Rahim here. His own personal character shines through, though, even if he has little control over what happens. He doesn’t want to be in the spotlight, but to go about life, ultimately trying to do right for himself, and his loved ones. That’s all any of us can really do, and it makes him as much a hero as giving that money back.
