I am shocked at how obscure Still Life is. Still Life is a devastating watch built upon a minimalistic framework. It is a harsh reminder of old age, expressing the inescapable feebleness of old age. Shahid-Saless initially shows an elderly couple going through the motions in an effort to survive. This dullness inundates the very display of every shot: the skies are gray, their home is washed in a dilapidated blue, the older characters hobble slowly from end to end within a frame. The first part of the film is a laconic passage of their lives, a routine that in and of itself feels incarcerating. Mohammed closes and lifts the gate, then returns home to tea and dinner. Mohammed’s wife’s life feels even more restrictive than Mohammed’s, stuck inside her house in a repetitive lifestyle of traditional domesticity.
In the end, however, we find that the upheaval of that tedium is not liberating, but rather more tragic. Unfortunate events begin to transpire and mount on top of each other: they are unable to sell a rug for a good price, they run short on money, Mohammed is forcibly retired by the state. A cold reality descends upon Mohammed and his wife, losing what little control they had over their lives, woefully evicted from the dilapidated home that had preserved their existence. The simple story-telling revolves around the uniquely human plunge into a nadir, and that same relatability is what makes this a wonderful story.
