House of Sand and Fog | Review

Excellent performances found in directorial debut.

Think of this one as an example of a classic Monopoly dispute where one person roles the dice, lands on Boardwalk, and gets ready to buy the property—the one which you bought two rounds before but mistakenly forgot to take the card. Nobody is willing to give up on this sweet spot of the board since it can win the game for you. Vadim Perelman’s directorial debut finds itself in the same sort predicament where conflict and property disputes pounds this notion of being either physically lost (as in not having a shelter) or about being emotionally lost (not being able to shelter one’s self against the forces of nature) and that the home is the solution to one’s problems.

Perelman and Shawn Lawrence Otto take on Andre Dubus III’s powerful novel and drench it in atmospheric tension, first by displaying the hauntingly beautiful physics of San Francisco fog under cinematographer Roger Deakins (Fargo) lenses and by leaving powerful characterizations in the hands of two prime actors who deliver some penetrating performances.

House of Sand and Fog sees what happens when one house changes hands through a messy legal system and describes how the meaning of ‘home’ symbolically encapsulates a sense of protection, but in this guise it also celebrates an empathy for destruction between two cultures. While this is a worthy first film for the commercial film director it is not without its shortcomings, the territorial disputes and the Iranian/American political tensions make for some strong emotions, but the romantic attachments between new “friends” is distracting to the overall charge of the picture as is some of the final plots elements.

Jennifer Connelly (The Hulk) plays an emotionally distraught, once-addicted woman and a somewhat incomplete character. We come to grasp her emotional weakness especially in a tight close up shot which sees her character’s fragile desperate state in a tub with a floating pill bottle, but we never comprehend why she simply didn’t open her mail.

Ben Kingsley (Sexy Beast) plays a diligent father and former military official named Behrani who is first introduced as a rich man but quickly shown in his true form as a man who behind some gold home furnishings is trying to support his family one penny at a time. As his wife is there to remind him of his past errors he makes the calculated, almost sacrificial leap towards a better life. However, he must fend off a new threat, not poverty or the inability to provide a good life for his family but to resist the attacks of the former owner of the home and her newest beau in the film’s poorly written character of a cop (Ron Eldard – Black Hawk Down) who falls in love with her and misjudges is own appropriate cop behavior. This police officer whose motives are pretty obvious, is so keen on getting to know Kathy (Connelly) that his sense of smell allows him to find her in the middle of nowhere? Basically, the two might find themselves in a shared commonality of the burden, but their relationship feels forced for the purpose of the story.

The strength of the picture is found in Kingsley who gives an Oscar-worthy performance; he seems to encapsulate humanities’ resilient determinism while Connelly shines best whenever she plays emotionally distraught personas such as in Requiem for a Dream. Where Perelman’s really gets it right is in how builds the second act and how he treats the image of the family unit by supplying a factual perspective on the values of Iranian culture, or for that matter any other culture trying to make it in America. The casting of Arab actors in the mother and son roles not only juices up the dialogue but their emotions help explain the importance of family during conflict, and some hot tea is always good to boost up their spirituality and beliefs and to cover up the shame they feel comparing to other Arab morals of class.

The best touch in the plot comes when the engaged “turf” war is traded in for this universal “everybody hurts” epilogue and theme, unfortunately, the denouement of in-cards-tragic ending announced at the beginning of the film is sort mishandled in some areas, giving way too much drama for a final act which becomes an exposition of pain.

Visually, the film matches the dark mood with this murky overcoat, where shots of the fog drape the geographic structure of the bay area and are used as a narrative foreshadowing element showing the rising levels of tension.

While some elements in the narrative seem to confuse the tone of the picture, overall, House of Sand and Fog is a compellingly dark film with a couple of great acting performances and an interesting double parallelism of grieve, pain and individual struggle—a film worth recommending for those who don’t mind paying a ticket fair and feeling depressed.

Rating 3.5 stars