Did you ever think you would engage with a film that transplants Iranian New Wave cinema to the stony, rigid, cold streets of Winnipeg, Manitoba? I certainly didn’t. In fact, I have given the prominent Canadian city very little thought throughout my life, but now it is all I can think about thanks to Universal Language
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Director and co-writer Matthew Rankin’s movie follows three interconnected plots set in a version of Winnipeg that is basically Iran meets Canada in the 80s and 90s. Farsi has replaced English in this absurdist, off-beat comedy-drama about people simply existing. A pair of sisters, a tour guide, and a former government worker from Quebec lead the quirky feature that takes us on a tour of Winnipeg’s concrete jungle.
Universal Language Invites Us On An Absurdist-Inspired Tour
Universal Language is a hoot, especially for anyone familiar with Winnipeg and Canada. Absurdist cinema may not be for all, but for those who enjoy the genre, Rankin relishes the intentionally stilted visuals and the ᴅᴇᴀᴅpan delivery of the funny moments that make up his second feature. Despite the gray and beige color palette of the snow-stricken city, there is an immense sense of warmth infused into the film, and the ’80s stylization adds a touch of nostalgia.
Rankin — along with co-writers Pirouz Nemati and Ila Firouzabadi — avoids all expectations and goes for a visual and narrative approach that is constantly unexpected and dizzyingly charming. The core theme is crystal clear. Evocative as it may be, there is a deeply personal purpose that is the source of the film’s compᴀssionate outlook, which is seen and felt through the camerawork and cinematography.
The randomness of the dialogue and situations is enriched by the cultural specificity Universal Language implements. There is great reverence for Winnipeg, and although the city has been the ʙuтт of many jokes, the film truly hammers home his love of the town. Rankin even inserts himself as the government worker named Matthew who quits his job (in a hilarious scene scored by the sobs of a government worker in a cubicle, which is exactly how I imagine government workplaces are like) to return home to care for his mother.
As heartwarming as the plot thread is, however, it does overtake the film in the latter half. Rankin’s position in the film is to showcase his reverence for Winnipeg, which is superseded by his compᴀssionate cry for unity. It is in how the characters interact, their dialogue, and the simple beauty of Farsi and French blending together that is a highlight. There are no grand debates about how ideologically deprived one country is over the other; there is no tug-of-war between the two cultures in the ficтιтious, and somewhat aspirational, world Universal Language has created.
Universal Language Emphasizes Empathy & Unity
In an age where intolerance has become the norm and the differences between us have become incendiary political talking points, Universal Language acts as a counterargument. It is pointedly relevant to the current social climate in Canada, arriving on the heels of a horrific incident in Ajax, Ontario where a woman was nearly set on fire for wearing hijab. While the film addresses language issues, Rankin strikes the exact chords that elicit strong emotions towards Canada’s struggles as a multicultural country. There’s been an increased resentment of the nation being a cultural mosaic and Universal Language addresses this in its own way.
Rankin avoids all expectations and goes for a visual and narrative approach that is constantly unexpected and dizzyingly charming.
Sure, Universal Language follows the tenets of absurd cinema to the letter — the ᴅᴇᴀᴅpan humor and the matter-of-fact plotting make for an entertaining time — but the film carries the burden of being an emotional litmus test to gauge one’s openness to understanding the vitality of cross-cultural dialogue and embracing diversity. Rankin isn’t making some grand, sweeping demand that Farsi become a legally bound language; instead, there is a demand for empathy and openness to recognizing that the differences that divide us are not all-consuming nor override the things about us that are alike.
In an incredibly precise manner, Universal Language illustrates that despite defining cultural traits, those from other countries can adapt to a different environment and co-exist with the region’s residents. Language, religion, culture, race, and ethnicity hardly have any bearing on how people can co-exist in a place like Winnipeg. Overall, the actual story in Universal Language doesn’t matter. It is the execution that stands out the most. It is a quirky take on cross-cultural dialogue, a mixture between Wes Anderson and Abbas Kiarostami’s styles that taps into something more profound than its aesthetic and comedic choices.
It’s affirming and reminds us that being Canadian is not defined by arbitrary standards. It isn’t language that defines us, nor our cultural background, but our character.
