Shocking Truths Unveiled as Woman Escapes from Abuser in ‘Shayda’ – A Scandal of Patriarchy!

In Noora Niasari’s inaugural film, “Shayda”, there’s a constant struggle between hope and fear. Zar Amir Ebrahimi, known for her role in “Holy Spider”, delivers a captivating performance as Shayda, a Persian mother who seeks refuge in an Australian women’s shelter with her 6-year-old daughter Mona, portrayed by Selina Zahednia. As we watch Shayda gather her thoughts, reassure her child, and gaze out windows, we can almost feel her internal struggle – the fight against succumbing to the very real and justified fear of an uncertain future.

The existence of the film itself signifies victory in many ways. Based on the personal experiences of Niasari’s mother, who left her husband when Niasari was a child, the story represents a triumph of freedom. This tale has given rise to a powerful new directorial voice within the Iranian diaspora. “Shayda” won a Sundance award last year and recently garnered Niasari a DGA nomination for her first feature.

Even without knowledge of its real-life origins, “Shayda” captivates its audience with its intense, moment-to-moment tension. The film opens with a nerve-wracking scene at an airport that sets the stakes high: Will Shayda, aided by compassionate shelter worker Joyce (played by Leah Purcell), be able to coach her disoriented and vulnerable daughter to remember critical details in the event her father unexpectedly tries to take her away?

From there, the film takes us into the life inside a nondescript two-story suburban shelter located in an unnamed city. By intentionally omitting details, even establishing shots, Niasari amplifies our sense of a safe space, but also of a new, anonymous existence. Shayda does her utmost to maintain a sense of normalcy for Mona, despite their shared living space with other women navigating similar traumatic experiences.

The shelter’s community offers solace, as does preparing for the upcoming Persian New Year’s celebration, Nowruz. The film employs symbolic visual elements like a carefully nurtured bowl of sprouting herbs and a vibrant gathering where attendees leap over fire. Yet every seemingly commonplace interaction with the broader Iranian community presents a veiled opportunity for Shayda to experience the shaming effects of a patriarchal system, or worse, its potential threats.

The tension escalates with the court-ordered return of Shayda’s estranged husband Hossein, convincingly played by Osamah Sami. Each unsupervised visit with Mona is fraught with his manipulative attempts to extract information. “Shayda” masterfully builds suspense in these scenes and their aftermath, steering clear of the sensationalist and racially insensitive tropes found in films like “Not Without My Daughter.”

Niasari’s storytelling evokes the pressing issues concerning basic human rights that the Iranian women’s movement has championed since the death of Mahsa Amini in police custody in 2022. Although “Shayda” was filmed before this incident, its portrayal of a woman’s bravery and tenacity in the face of intense pressure to endure violence, remain invisible, and live unfulfilled, couldn’t be more timely. Ebrahimi delivers a strikingly nuanced performance as her character transitions from disconcerting vulnerability to determined independence.

“Shayda” could be tighter in places, and Niasari’s emphasis on Shayda and Mona at the center of Sherwin Akbarzadeh’s confined box frame sometimes leaves the supporting characters feeling less distinct. However, these are minor issues. “Shayda” achieves the extraordinary task of portraying real danger without resorting to a typical damsel-in-distress narrative. Instead, what lingers after the film is not so much the fear and tension, but the recurring motif of dance: Shayda cheering up Mona, losing herself in dance at a club, lifting spirits at the shelter, and bringing life to a dinner party. The threat for women like Shayda may be real, but Niasari ensures it doesn’t define Shayda’s life, or the narrative of the film.