THE STORY – After being arrested and having his medical practice shut down, an Iranian doctor loses faith in the future and resolves to end his life. But one final day among his family begins to unsettle his decision.
THE CAST – Misagh Zareh, Sadaf Asgari, Forouzan Jamshidnejad, Ramtin Daghigh & Mina Rahimzadeh
THE TEAM – Ali Asgari (Director/Writer) & Shadmehr Rastin (Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 87 Minutes
When you boil it all down, life is nothing more than a series of burdens you have to overcome. Sure, plenty of moments might inspire more optimism, and one should never disregard those rays of sunlight either. They deserve to be cherished and acknowledged. Yet the human mind has an easier time recognizing the world’s faults. It’s a struggle not to let that overwhelm you on a day-to-day basis. Sometimes, it’s easy to push past them. Other days, it’s much harder, compounded by a global landscape that promises bleakness around every corner. But if you persevere, the corners will turn, and that slight peek of happiness will rear its head again. It’s a familiar turmoil at the heart of “A Bit of Light,” a mostly engaging character study that manages to skate by on its endearing message.
The escalating conflicts in Iran may have only recently captured attention around the world, but such unrest has been a constant threat for some time. The war initiated by the United States was just another point of tension within the country. The protests against the regime also inspired mass crackdowns, with violent responses to the demonstrations. A group of civilians seeking medical attention forced Arash (Misagh Zareh) to help. For his actions, authorities arrested him and shut down his medical practice. His future prospects feel hopeless, and he has decided today will be the day to end his life. He wants to put affairs in order, reaching out to family members and to inform them of his decision. Along the way, he keeps encountering provocations that make him reconsider. The compassion of those around him ever slowly chips away at the grim outlook he’s been holding onto.
Director Ali Asgari creates an atmosphere full of somber meditation. Numerous sequences play out in long, unbroken takes that stew in the silences of the moment. This allows such reserved characters to casually reveal their truer selves, letting the mask slip and expose the more potent emotions lurking beneath the surface. More often than not, it just lets the deliberate pacing take its toll. Scenes have a habit of lingering a few beats too long, going well past insightful reflection and becoming tedious to wade through. It’s occasionally effective, like when witnessing an underground theater production, which lends itself far better to that stylistic choice. Otherwise, the lackluster framing doesn’t really enhance the use of such a still camera and quiet ambiance. The space allows the actors to revel in their performances, but even the brisk runtime can feel laborious.
The screenplay by Asgari and Shadmehr Rastin trades on well-worn territory: a character comes to appreciate the beauty around them and pulls out of a tailspin. It’s material that never really breaks free from what is expected, but it still manages to charm. A patient desperately trying to get medication for her father reminds Arash that his duties are still appreciated. A woman pleading with him to treat the injuries her son sustained in the protests acknowledges that his work also matters to the political movement. Reconnecting with his family shows how infectious their love is, especially with his mother, whose affection is so unrelenting that she will force-feed him watermelon to ensure he enjoys her food. These sequences may have a pedestrian framework, but they are still engrossing enough to be compelling.
Zareh delivers a consistently stoic performance in almost every scene, intentionally cold and distant. It can drift into monotone at certain points, but that’s what makes the small breaks from that status have far more impact. When he breaks the police seal to his office to retrieve an important document and sees the disarray it was left in after treating all those patients, the rush of emotion runs right up to his eyes, the first recognition of the deeper anguish he’s been bottling up. There are just enough flashes of that light to give his portrayal the needed definition, and it is appreciated. The actors playing his siblings operate in a more limited register, though it is justified by their roles. The only other person who makes a significant impression is Mina Rahimzadeh as the matriarch. There’s just an undeniable charm she possesses, able to sense the unease within her family and immediately target the despair. It’s a relatable aura she embodies and helps sell the more joyful note the finale is trying to convey.
There’s no denying that “A Bit of Light” is absolutely playing with a formulaic foundation. The arcs it establishes for the characters follow a predictable route, and the screenplay states its theme very directly (“suffering and joy are not enemies” is a line one person says). Even still, it can be easy to be won over by the intentions. While the momentum can feel sluggish, the stillness allows more pronounced emotional outbursts to stand out, especially when Zareh performs them. The result is meant to draw you into a deeper appreciation of all life has to offer. It may fall short of such an overwhelming catharsis of joy, but the sentiment is admired all the same.
