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Movie review: Rosewater - no country for humour, or truth

Jon Stewart’s directorial debut is not bad but could have been so much more

Schayan Riaz November 30, 2014

While watching Jon Stewart’s debut feature Rosewater, one can never really forget that the film has been made by the renowned American talk show host himself. Stewart has wit and charm by the bucket, as he proves night after night on The Daily Show. And it’s precisely that image that does the film and its subject matter no good.

Stewart’s intentions are unquestionably noble and Rosewater is by no means a terrible film. But there is no real sense of what we are supposed to be watching. Is this a harrowing prison drama? Or is it a black comedy? Clearly, this would have been a much better film in the hands of a much better director.

Rosewater is an oddity — two worlds colliding in the most unnatural way. The film is based on the true story of Iranian journalist Maziar Bahari (played by Gael García Bernal), who was imprisoned by the controversially re-elected Ahmadinejad regime in the aftermath of the 2009 election protests. Bahari — who comes from a family of dissidents with his father being imprisoned under the Shah in the 1950s and his elder sister Maryam under Khomeini in the 1980s — had come to Iran from London and was covering the events leading up to the election for BBC, documenting views from ordinary citizens and party members. During the Green Revolution, when countless Iranians took to the streets and demanded a revote, Bahari’s brave video reporting caught the attention of the authorities.

He was held in the notorious Evin prison for almost four months, where he was interrogated and accused of being a Western spy. The reason for that being, that he had given a satirical interview to — hold your breath — The Daily Show. The re-creation of that scene (with Jason Jones playing himself) is the funniest part of the film. And it truly is an absurd moment, because the captors genuinely think that Bahari is a spy, since he took part in that humourous, almost trivial sketch.

For a story this bizarre, Rosewater has too many stuffy, serious moments. A chance has been missed to go all-out, over-the-top comic on this kind of narrative. Some elements are in place of course. For example, when the guards come to take Bahari away for the first time, they hold up items such as a box set of The Sopranos. Porno, they ask him? Bahari declines. Then they hold up a British film magazine and Bahari thinks this could be porn. It is so simple and yet so funny. If Stewart had sustained this tone throughout, the film would have been a more compelling watch. Bernal is excellent in these moments and the Mexican shares great chemistry with Danish actor Kim Bodnia, who plays the rosewater-scented interrogator.

In the case of Bahari’s story, Stewart should have taken a clearer approach, a more sure-footed treatment of such sensitive material. There have of course been films critical of the regime too, devoid of any humour. Last year’s Manuscripts Don’t Burn, about writers’ oppression and suffocation, is one such example. And The Green Wave is an eye-opening documentary by Ali Samadi Ahadi. Unfortunately, Rosewater pales in comparison with other films about the same topic.