| house of sand and fog (2003) | |||||||||||
| director: vadim perelman jennifer connelly, ben kingsley ron eldard, shohreh aghdashloo kim dickens unfashionable observations rating: B- |
House of Sand and Fog is a movie that belongs to the genre of emotional, sometimes sensationalistic made-for-TV movies. Granted, it would be one of the better ones of its kind, with admirable performances from the likes of Jennifer Connelly and Ben Kingsley. Nevertheless, the film’s premise and ultimate resolution is so dramatic and desperate for our pity that, like all made-for-TV movies, we are left with a bad taste in our proverbial mouths after we leave the theatre—and even a secretive distrust of the American legal system and its administrators! Jennifer Connelly plays Kathy Nicolo, an alcoholic whose husband leaves her, after which her house is improperly seized due to a bureaucratic snafu. The house is immediately auctioned off to an exiled Iranian air force colonel by the name of Massoud Amir Behrani (Ben Kingsley), a new American citizen who looks forward to building a new life for himself and his family in America. But Kathy won't give up her home without a fight, fiercely determined to salvage her last hope of a stable life. This movie presents us with an interesting moral/legal question. When Kathy’s house is put up for auction for back taxes by mistake, we cannot help but think that Kathy has been deprived of something more than just a house. It was her house—her father’s house. In the continental tradition of property rights, Kathy would be imbued with more than just an economic interest in the property. She would also have a personality interest in it—some intangible element that distinguishes this particular house from an identical house down the block. The American legal tradition of property rights is one based on economic value alone: this is why the government may seize one’s property for public use as long as just monetary compensation is provided. This of course ignores the personality interest in the property, which cannot be quantified in monetary terms. In Kathy’s case, the fact that her father had built the house with his own hands imbues the house with some essential, metaphysical component of her father’s personality. Likewise, the fact that she has lived in it also imbues the house with a part of her own self. Therefore, when Behrani adamantly refuses to give the house back without first making a large profit, the question posed is not one about economic interest, but rather moral interest. We sense that Kathy is morally entitled to her house because of her father’s personal sacrifices for it. But because the American legal system does not recognize such personality rights in property law, the moral question is rendered moot in the proper legal analysis. The film is entitled to have the tragic ending that it does because of this breakdown of moral rights. We understand that Behrani has violated an inherent moral right, and yet there is no legal consequence to his action. As a result, a personal consequence is appropriately called for. While this movie has all of the ingredients of a great film, the end result is unspectacular. The story relies heavily on the emotional punch at the end of the film for its memorability. However, it forgets that an audience cannot be expected to become emotionally attached to those with whom it cannot relate. Because the emotional climax of the film depends on our allegiance to the Behrani family—the foreigners who take advantage of the legal loophole for immoral ends—the story’s “punch” ultimately feels more like a poke. I’d give Vadim Perelman’s House of Sand and Fog a B-. |
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| Unfashionable Observations by Xavier Morales © 2004 | |||||||||||