In the midst of winter, isolation weighs heavily.
In Universal Language, we encounter a world that exists somewhere between Tehran and Winnipeg as three separate storylines ultimately converge. In the first, we meet Negin and Nazgal, two children who find money frozen within the ice and search tirelessly for a way to get it out. Meanwhile, Matthew, an employee of the Quebec government, leaves his job so that he can visit his mother. Finally, local guide Massoud leads a group of tourists through Winnipeg’s historic (and absurd) sites. As the stories blur together, Language delves deeply into the psychology of a world divided and looks for ways to bring it together.
Directed by Matthew Rankin, Universal Language is a comedy that wants to laugh at its unsettling vision of life. Featuring stunning cinematography and wild visuals, Rankin immerses the viewer into a space that feels both irrational and foolish. From the film’s first frame, Rankin never loses his focus, creating something that feels entirely unique and has been met with universal acclaim.
Having said this, there’s something about this film that has the potential to leave the viewer outside its frozen space. Sometimes, there are films that are undeniably well-made yet still make it difficult for the audience to participate. To me, Universal Language is one of those films. This is a piece that is smart, beautifully executed and features solid performance across the board. Yet, even after multiple viewings, I can’t help but feel that something feels off.
But now I know. It’s that it’s billed as a comedy.
Now, don’t get me wrong. This is a world that simply doesn’t make sense and, in that way, there’s a certain level of silliness that shines through. There are many moments within Language that are genuinely funny. From paper shredding pasta makers to government reps who don’t know our geography to an endless supply of turkeys, this is an absurdist take on reality that is filled with humour.
Even so, this is a film that emphasizes the emptiness of life. We are meant to feel as though the world is a place of endless suffering and pointlessness. Buildings are bland and streets are endless. The weather is harsh, and the adults even more so. Divided by language and culture, connections are almost impossible. As a result, everyone is looking for something that feels out of reach, whether it’s money for a pair of glasses or personal joy.
Ultimately, everyone is just trying to survive.
Admittedly, there’s something beautiful about this sort of cultural exploration. We are meant to feel the pain of a world that leaves people feeling abandoned. There is a heaviness to the film that feels honest, especially at a time when we can feel that same division ourselves. In Language, we are invited to try to find beauty in the desolation of life, even if the film also reminds us that the journey is cyclical. There’s something genuine about this discourse on the bleakness of life that feels necessary.
But, in the end, Universal Language’s greatest asset may be its young people. In this piece, it’s they who are most willing to fight back against the malaise. They have hopes and dreams, even if the adults in the room generally seem mostly disinterested in their naivete. Despite the fact that the world actively pushes against them, they are willing to carry a sense of optimism. (Although many adults seem to be actively attempting to take that from them.) Yet, within them, there is at least a spark of hope.
Without them though, this vision of life is left entirely broken.
Again, this is not meant to be critical of Rankin. In Universal Language, he has created a poetic inquest into human nature that feels fresh. Even so, I can’t deny that the bleakness of this world simply left me out in the cold.
Universal Language is available in theatres now.
