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The film The Day I Became a Woman is just the latest in a steady stream of Iranian films to come to America. In the last several months, we've had The Silence, Moment of Innocence, Time of Drunken Horses, and The Wind Will Carry Us; and The Circle, the highly-acclaimed new film from the director of The White Balloon, opens later this spring. Half a dozen films in theatrical release wouldn't usually be considered a flood, but just a few years ago there weren't any Iranian films being released here in Chicago.

The reasons for this growth are two-fold. First, with the subtle thaw in Iranian-American relations, audiences are now more open to cultural exchanges with that once-taboo country. More importantly, though, the explosion of the Iranian film industry has produced a wealth of rich, provocative, and beautiful films that rank with some of the best movies produced anywhere in the world.

The Day I Became a Woman is a worthy addition to this "new wave." Directed by Marzieh Meshkini (the wife of Mohsen Makhmalbaf, one of Iran's great film directors), it's a tale of what it means to be a woman. Three tales, in fact: one about a young girl on her ninth birthday, one about a married woman, and one about an elderly woman approaching the last days of her life.

Each narrative is quite short--the entire movie is less than 80 minutes long--and simple. In the first one, Havva turns nine and becomes a woman. No longer can she play with boys or even go outside the house without being covered from head to toe. But wanting to play one last time with her friend, she convinces her strict grandmother that, since she was born at noon, she still has a couple more hours of childhood. Havva rushes out, but her last hour of freedom (like Cinderella's at the ball) is haunted by the specter of her oncoming restraints.

The second story is about a married woman who loves to ride a bicycle. Her husband is outraged and threatens her with divorce, but she refuses to obey. As she rides along the seashore, she is persistently pursued by various members of her clan.

The last narrative is about an old woman who uses some inheritance money to buy all of the things she's ever wanted. She hires some local boys to help her transport her goods to the beach, where she literally sets up house

If the first story is evocative of much of Iranian cinema, with its simple tale of childhood, the last two become progressively more surreal, evoking the French New Wave even more than their own country's traditions. The sight of dozens of women riding along the sea while wrapped head-to-toe in black is a striking one, and Meshkini's visuals wonderfully complement the tale. In the third segment, the elderly woman's shopping spree is both comic and compelling. And when she lays out her possessions on the sandy beach, the film becomes a fantastic commentary on materialism and greed.

The movie clumsily tries to bring the three stories together at the end, but by that time I didn't care. The film is so rich that a little misstep can't hurt it. You might not think that Iranian cinema is your thing, but I suggest you give The Day I Became a Woman a try. It's very accessible and beautifully shot. And you might find a whole new type of film to explore.

J. Robert Parks 4/8/2001

The film is unrated, but it has nothing offensive in it.