
Recently, I reviewed all 10 films nominated for Best Picture of the Year by the Academy of Arts and Sciences. I saw some great films in the process, and some that were less than stellar. Now I want to talk about the film I thought was the best film of the year, but it was not on that illustrious list. This film was called Universal Language and it was made by a Winnipegger Matthew Rankin. Can you believe it?
It was selected as the Canadian entry of the Academy Award for the Best International Film at the 97th Academy Awards earlier this year, but it was not chosen by the Academy for the nominations. It did receive 13 Canadian Screen Awards and won 6 of them including best Director.
Rankin was originally from Winnipeg and his father was Laird Rankin a long time executive director of Canada’s Historical Society. I think it was a very funny film when I watched it in Victoria earlier in the year. Let me acknowledge however, that although my friend Ralph Friesen and I giggled throughout the film, but not that many other chuckles were heard in the room. It was an “off-beat comedy.” The film is set in Canada, but one very different from the Canada you know. It is a Canada in which Farsi is the main language. That is the language of Persia or Iran. The comedy takes place somewhere between Tehran, Quebec, and mainly Winnipeg. It tells two stories that eventually converge. One is between Negin and Naxgol who find money frozen in the ice in Winnipeg and try to claim it. The second story is about a tour guide who brings a group of tourists from Iran to Winnipeg.
The Winnipeg they see is unlike any Winnipeg I have ever seen. Understandably, the tour group is constantly confused, but largely obedient to their guide. Added to that, is the tale of Matthew (our Matthew Rankin) who quits his job in Quebec to come to Winnipeg to see his mother. Amazingly these stories do actually merge together to make some semblance of sense. A semblance is all you get and that is enough.
In the opening scene an image of a school on a cold winter day in Manitoba where students are running wild in a French emersion class, for Iranian students, because the teacher is late. He arrives and runs as fast as he can into the class and is really angry with them, but he is particularly angry that they do not have “the decency to misbehave in French.” He reminds the students that he is not like other authority figures they know. “I wear an ear ring. And a turtle neck sweater. I’ve played my electric guitar for you more than once. And still, you behave like brats. I have devoted my life to making you better human beings. But look at you now.” The students are clearly rebels. And who doesn’t love rebels? The authorities of course hate rebels, in Iran, or in Canada.
One student in the class is dressed like Groucho Marx. He is sent to a closet where he can still hear the teacher. The teacher stands beneath a portrait of Louis Riel the Metis rebel. Another student incurs his rile because he claims to want to be a tour guide when he grows up. The teachers says, “in this town.” Another student wants to breed donkeys. The teachers says all the students will fail because of “REALITY.” The teacher says, “When I look at you I see little hope for humanity.” The students must say, in unison, “We are lost forever in this world.” Now they are not rebelling, they are following instructions from their authoritarian teacher.
He tells all the students in the closet even though they obviously can’t all fit. It is their problem, not his. He expels all the students from class until the one student who could not read his notes from the class figures out how she can see the blackboard. Arbitrary punishment for an arbitrary non-existent crime. There is no justice in this Canadian autocracy. He lights a cigarette in the class room. After all he is the lord in the classroom. All-in-all as absurd as any authority figure.
As the students go out to play in the snow, in perfect order, they encounter another authority figure—their fellow student in a Groucho mustached and glasses. He directs traffic to the one swing. Students line up and each get 3 swings. No more. then they must go back to the end of the line and wait again while each student has their turn. No questions allowed. Everyone must follow the rules in this authoritarian regime.
Meanwhile, a “real tour guide’ shows up, holding a small white flag, so his 3 tourists, in the middle of a yard of snow, can see him clearly, even though there are no other tourists and white might not be the best colour for the flag. The guide who is the next authoritarian leader tells the tourists if they don’t follow him they will miss the “jewel of the Grey district.” It is the Centennial Parking Pavilion in the winter. Nothing else. They stand in in the snow in front of a bare grey cement wall. Is this the best thing to see in Winnipeg? But the authority says it is the highlight of Winnipeg. And thhe must be right. Not? He has to end the tour, but he has hired students to re-enact “the Great Parallel Parking Incident of 1958.” What could be greater or more interesting than that? One tourist asks, “since when is a parking lot of great importance?” Well, of course, since the authority says it is.
Teh authorities must be right. Just like authority always works. Even in Winnipeg.
[to be continued}





