French-Afghan filmmaker Atiq Rahimi gives a metaphorical twist to this legend in his "The Patience Stone" (2012), set in a war torn, unnamed land, that looks like Afghanistan. Gunfire and shelling is commonplace, as civilians continue to walk to their destinations even as an explosion occurs nearby! Being hit by a stray bullet is a possibility that cannot be ruled out, but there's no real choice as such. Everyone is living on the edge. Most of the surroundings have been reduced to smouldering rubble. The militia are practically everywhere and there is always a fear of insurgents barging into people's homes. Sometimes when there is news of bombing, the families hide out in an underground cellar.
In such a scenario of a living hell, a beautiful woman (Golshifteh Farahani) nurses her husband (Hamid Djavadan) who's in a vegetative state. The much older looking husband who is presumably a jihadist had taken a bullet to his neck following a squabble and has been in a coma ever since. With the man of the house being in an inactive state for a while, fear, insecurity and loneliness get the better of the woman, as she struggles for even the basics.
Anticipating a deteriorating condition, all her husband's brothers and his mother have fled. Her only aunt (Hassina Burgan) who was always around also seems to have fled for unknown reasons which we discover later. The woman is left to fend for herself and her two daughters with no real help in sight. It is no mean feat to remain composed in such an environment. She starts thinking aloud, and in the process, breaks into long monologues in front of her unresponsive husband. Perhaps she does it to maintain her composure and distract herself from the mayhem outside, but ultimately begins to find a great release in her ramblings, especially since her husband cannot really respond to her words. That's probably the only time, admittedly, that she actually gets to, or dares to talk!
Like any intelligently written screenplay, it is from the woman's stories told to her comatose husband, that the audiences are gradually made aware of certain facts from the woman's past, her childhood, her marriage and motherhood. These facts are not released in a burst but are progressively opened up, thwarting a lot of our expectations and judgements about the woman, her husband, the aforementioned relatives, almost everyone. Therein lies the power of the script to keep us on the edge as our interest escalates progressively, despite a rather mundane beginning.
Most of the film is comprised of the woman's absorbing soliloquy, barring a few scenes cut to other locations via flashbacks and the introduction of certain other important characters. This renders a very claustrophobic atmosphere to the proceedings, accentuating the woman's feeling of being trapped amid the war zone. A melancholic and sometimes tense score accompanies, which is a little unusual, considering the visual minimalism that borders on the style of a docufiction. The editing is noteworthy in how a particular frame shifts from, or overlaps in a present scene with a seamless audio track comprised of the woman's narration.
The woman's husband unconsciously becomes her patience stone, her punching bag, as she recounts the tales of her woes, and opens up about her repressed sexuality by revealing her darkest secrets, unfulfilled desires, marital frustrations, sinful fantasies and morbid wishes. The flashbacks to the woman's childhood evoke memories of Andrei Tarkovsky's "Mirror" (1975) in their somber tone and use of sepia filters. The woman's father's obsession with quails, and gambling with them by exploiting them, reflects the plight of women in an extremist Islamic patriarchal environment.
And this becomes one of the major themes of the film; a strong criticism of the regressive ways of Islamic fundamentalism, and the inherent hypocrisy in all that is done and followed in the name of God and religion. Rahimi reveals it all, and rather audaciously too. If a woman can't give birth to a child, she is considered sterile. The man's manhood is never questioned. Other shocking and appalling customs of the times are revealed. Once the word is given, marriage is possible even in the absence of the groom by marrying the girl off to one of his weapons as a symbolic stand-in for him!
It was considered alright for men to sell their women and daughters, in a gambling bid, but for the woman to even have carnal thoughts is a deadly sin! For in that case, she is possessed by the devil and should seek absolution by the Koran. The woman is then, merely an object of pleasure and servitude for the man. What's worse is, to save herself from being raped by the so-called defenders of their faith, it is a safer option for a woman to say she is a prostitute. In that case, they will spit on her, and move on, saying she soils the name of Muslims. But if she is a virgin or a sterile woman, they would go ahead and violate her just to prove their virility. It is tragic to say the least, a huge slap on the face of humanity.
The central character of the woman comes alive, with Golshifteh Farahani's stunning performance, as she embodies the woman in body and spirit, an unmistakable emotional investment palpable on the actress's part. It is a bold and flawless performance that deserves a standing ovation.
In being a heartfelt lamentation of the sorry state of affairs in lands such as these, the film in turn becomes a confession of the filmmaker to his audiences, as they collectively become his patience stone! In depicting the atrocities and revealing the dark side of humanity, the audiences become silent spectators (read listeners) to the gross injustice inflicted upon the hapless, poor souls in Rahimi's story. Sure enough, this powerful work of cinema leaves us shattered in the end.