The Patience Stone is based on an old Persian fable about a stone to whom one can confide all one's problems and worries. Here though the stone is an Afghan man, reduced to a vegetable state by the war. His wife (Golshifteh Farahani) uses his inability to comprehend and talk back to tell him things that she would not dare to say otherwise. With his disability she's been left to feed herself, her two children and continue buying medicine to keep her husband alive. The only job available for an Afghan woman in her desperate situation it seems is prostitution.

Atiq Rahimi has directed from his own novel. He wrote the script with the renowned veteran screen writer Jean-Claude Carrierre. It is, I feel, a story best suited to theatre with its long monologues. The film however, belongs to and is carried by Golshifteh Farahani's magnificent performance. This is a very tough role where she has to, for most part, talk to a body lying motionless and unresponsive on the ground, unable to engage in any dialogue. A poetic film which is not for all tastes but which will richly reward those who appreciate its form and messages.

This unusual war film, based on the novel of the same name that won the Prix Goncourt 2008, was brilliantly adapted to the screen by author Atiq Rahimi (Earth and Ashes, 2004) himself, in collaboration with his friend, the legendary scenarist, Jean-Claude Carrière.

In Persian folklore, there exists a magic black stone, Syng-e-saboor (the Patience Stone), to which one can confide everything. The stone listens, soaking in all the words, the secrets, the miseries, until it finally explodes, and on that day, one is instantly delivered of all one's sufferings and worries.

In ruined Kabul, rival bands of mujahidin are fighting like rabid dogs over the remnants of the city. In this apocalyptic world, a man lies comatose on a mattress in a bare room of his house. His wife kneels next to him, fingering her prayer beads and talking to him. She recalls episodes of her life. Her voice, timid and hesitating at first, affirms itself. She finally lets bitter words, crazy words, holed up far too long, escape from her inner self. She heckles Allah and his Hell, insults men and their never-ending wars, curses her warrior husband, a hero vanquished by his male pride, his religious obscurantism, his hate of the other, and goes as far as to reveal her most inner thoughts and secrets. In doing so, she frees herself from the marital, social and religious oppressions she has been enduring the whole of her life. Once quietly praying, now she screams. Once living in silence and self- sacrificing abnegation, she emerges now as a human being, a woman.

The adaptation to the screen was a significant challenge, given that it is a tragic huis clos taking place in the sick room, which The Woman (we never learn any of the characters' names) only occasionally leaves. The book is a monologue by a woman to a dying man. Its delivery is straightforward: the voice speaks as if the woman is writing. Translating this narrative to the screen was something else, and the challenge depended on the choice of a very special actress whose theatrical talent would allow her to embody the role of The Woman on whom the whole film so critically depends. Rahimi chose the young Iranian actress, Golshifteh Farahani. Born in Iran after the revolution, she knows what it means to live in a phallocratic society. This was not a sine qua non pre-condition for the part, but it was certainly an asset. She was the leading woman character in Ridley Scott's Body of Lies (2008). At first, Rahimi hesitated to cast Farahani in the part of The Woman because of her physical beauty. Indeed, she is beautiful, and in the film she even makes wearing the chadri (the "tent" that covers some Afghan women from head to toe) look elegant! In the continuous face-to- face with the spectator, Farahani demonstrates the majesty and flame worthy of an ancient Greek tragedienne.

Within the four walls of the room, Farahani's voice and face do wonders. In a searing, provocative, and passionate performance, she gives a star performance of a kind rarely seen anymore. Revealing the ambiguities of her character with a liberating and disconcerting sweetness, she carries her difficult role to a level of truth which seems impossible to achieve. All by herself, she anchors this story at the heart of reality, offering the birth of her free speech to the twilight world that required her silence.

The Aunt (Hassina Burgan), a wise old prostitute, presides over a bordello whose ambiance is like a feminine calm in the middle of the storm. Inside its walls are all the things men don't understand. In this role, Burgan's acting is on the mark, conveying calm and wisdom. Nothing much can be said about Hamidreza Javdan, The Husband, except that he remains perfectly still, except for the heart pulse in his jugular and his slow breathing, for practically the entire film, probably a first in the annals of film!

Most of the film was shot in Morocco, with some outdoor scenes filmed on location in Kabul under the pretext of filming fighting quails, one of Afghan men favorite pastimes. Since most of the film is interior shots, where space is limited, Rahimi was keen to have a camera in constant motion: with few exceptions, the camera is always kept moving, in order to offset the threat of staginess in The Woman's monologues.

The film is the result of the collaboration of many talented people, each an expert in his own field, starting with Thierry Arbogast (6 Césars), the celebrated photography director responsible for almost all of Luc Besson's films; Hervé De Luze's (3 Césars) editing is seamless, and no small reason for the film's success; Max Richter's soundtrack is discreet, and yet has a strong presence, acting as intermezzos between monologue sequences, and adding to dramatic suspenseful moments in the film. The soundtrack consists of metallophone sounds mixed with string instruments (or perhaps electronic keyboarding).

In Patience Stone, Rahimi breaks all of the Afghan taboos – social, cultural, sexual and religious. "When I wrote the novel, I wanted to put myself in the shoes of an Afghan woman to bare her desires as well as her suffering," he said. In this respect, he also becomes the Patience Stone, gathering and reinventing the pains and hopes of the martyrs, of all the Afghan women of the shadows, in order to give them a memory, their struggles forever synonymous with truth and freedom. In a country like Afghanistan, in order for an oppressed woman to finally speak, Rahimi first had to paralyze the oppression of the system. As such, The Husband symbolizes this whole patriarchal, repressive system, which is now paralyzed and injured. And because of it, The Woman can finally blossom and flourish, and she becomes intensely symbolic: "The voice that emerges from my throat, it is the voice buried for thousands of years."

Became an instant favorite. It does not matter what country this takes place in, and that it's never named. Often the enemy is easily indistinct.

Those little girls were precious, running in the street, in the cellar wile bombs are going off. Been there. Been around men like that too.

Loved the colors of Golshifteh Farahani's clothes, and the way they billowed magnificently about her. One of the most beautiful women I have ever seen. Her spirit shines through.

The sex, better said as rape, is more spoken and little shown.There is one frame of Eros though, love making, you'd see in a Fine Arts Museum.

The issue of child brides is a theme, and these girls are given away like chattel. They do not choose this.

Those who do not know how to make love, make war, and that is not just the kind with guns. 10/10

For people form middle east it would be good to know that women are as human as men. For the rest of the world its good to know that human feeling exist the same way even under hijab! The most impressive line is "those who don't know to make love, make war". Golshifteh is a pioneer in breaking the control freak nature of middle eastern culture which I believe is the main factor that underlies sexual complexes and subsequent dysfunction in the layers of society. She, aware or not, is the first person who is putting an end to this. The picture and landscaping is realistic and the motion of the lens is so touchable in alternative induction of life threatening vigilance and peaceful love making moments. Filmography explains the culture for non-afghan viewers pretty digestible.

Atiq Rahimi's The Patience Stone examines that understudied thesis: Islamic terrorism is rooted in a repressed and perverted sexuality. As the heroine's worldly aunt remarks, the men who make war can't make love.

Though the film is based on Rahimi's novel, its sexual and moral paradoxes smack of the films co-scripter Jean-Claude Carriere wrote with Bunuel. The terrorist officers are proud to rape virgins but refuse to rape a whore. That saves the virtuous heroine (Golshifteh Farahani). Conversely, the young soldier who approaches her as a whore is the first man to treat her with respect and affection. As the victim of his commander's sadism he empathizes with the supposed whore. The woman who personifies the will and capacity to survive is the prostitute aunt. That fate awaits the heroine's two young daughters -- if they are lucky enough to survive the male world of war. The reversals are as surreal as the bombed landscape.

The central marriage is totally aberrant. The young girl was by arrangement both engaged and married to the terrorist hero in absentia. As a lover he's even more absent when he's there. His "love" making is brutish and violent. The closest the woman comes to a happy relationship with him is when he lies comatose and she can for the first time unburden herself of her secrets. After ten years of silence and misery she comes to like him when he ostensibly listens to her. For the first time she has a voice. For the first time she can express herself. For the first time he can not spurn her kisses and caresses. The confession that breaks through, that returns him to life, is her revelation that because he is sterile she arranged for another man to sire his two daughters. The woman needed to procreate to sustain the marriage. When he returns to himself his impulse is to kill her. Again male violence is rooted in a perverse concept of masculinity. For more see www.yacowar.blogspot.com.

A story of pain, resilience, loyalty and terrible choices which those of never (yet) subjected to the everyday horrors of war on our own doorstep have had to face. Brilliant story, well portrayed in subtle terms. No high drama which made it all the more poignant and human. Not one for the wham bang brigade, more one for the thoughtful watcher. Exquisitely shot: colours, set ups, scenes - everything was admirable. Unlike any film I have seen before. Brings home the pity of war, the damage it does to ordinary lives. Brilliant performances from everyone. See it. Remember it. Learn from it - in every way, as a human and as a film-maker.

Universities across the world put forward that humans choose their own partner and marriage, and that everyone is the same as a Western person. Yet we know that this isn't the case.

This film presents the life of an Afghan woman, who is in an arranged marriage, and if he dies, she will simply be married off to one of his brothers. It's an environment where there is no love between husband and wife. The film gives a rare presentation of the lives of women in the non-Western world. It's probably the best film I've seen to do this. Actress Golshifteh Farahani does a great job of presenting the material in a warm and likable fashion.

It's worth watching and thinking about. A little slow, but very well made, scripted and acted. Very watchable.

If you're interested in what life is like for non-Western women, it's definitely worth seeing.

Man, does this sound like a loser -- a woman tends her unconscious husband at home and heaps all of her grief and sorrow on the poor guy's insensible bald head. A Lifetime Movie Network special, right? But no! I was caught up in it at once and couldn't break away. The wife is in her mid-thirties and, while by no means glamorized, has attractive features, striking. Somebody should paint her portrait.

But nobody will because she, her older husband, and their two little girls live in a shabby apartment in some unnamed city in the Middle East. They depend on a water bearer, who may or may not show up because the dusty streets are dangerous, what with the militia on one side and the rebels on the other. They have no electricity either and live by lamplight at night, when they dare turn it on at all.

If she goes out, she wears a mustard-colored burqa, which had always impressed me as a heavy garment made of something like canvas but is actually a thin, silken, all-around cape that's easily slipped back onto the shoulders. The woman has few friends -- one of her neighbors has gone round the bend because the men of her house have been slaughtered and hung upside down -- and her only relative is an older aunt who runs a whorehouse. There is a Mullah who knocks at the gate from time to time but he's extremely demanding and his predictions are wrong, so she turns him away.

After the first two or three minutes, it lost any resemblance to a Lifetime Movie Network special. When the rebels (or the militia, I couldn't tell which) break into her apartment, she hides the wounded husband in a cubby hole to keep him from being killed. When the two armed and ugly men begin to take an interest in her she lies and claims to be one of her aunt's prostitutes, which disgusts the men to the extent that they leave her impure body alone. Well, except that the younger of the two -- an inexperience young man with a stutter -- returns later, flings a handful of bills on the floor, throws her down among them, pulls off their hampering undergarments, and achieves intromission and ejaculation at almost the same instant. "Is this your first time?", she asks wonderingly, and he nods.

Thereafter he appears with some regularity desiring her services. He even secretly leaves a small bandanna-wrapped pile of food on their window sill. He's gotten to kind of like her, despite her professed profession. She rather appreciates his coming too -- not just for the money, which buys them food and water, but because he's so shy and inexperienced that she can guide him in foreplay and tell him what to do to give her pleasure. She begins to groom herself more carefully and, anticipating his arrival, she dresses in becoming clothes instead of her usual rags.

That brings us back to the balding husband, flat on his back, a bullet in his neck, the result of a personal quarrel. She's keeping him alive through a tube running from a drip sack nailed to the wall -- just water and sugar. And just how did hubby treat her, even since he married her when she was fifteen? Like an animal. The more beans she spills, the more we realize how complicated, how adversarial, their relationship was. He'd never kissed her or fondled her. The woman's job was to produce children. After the first months of their marriage, his family began to think she was sterile, when in fact it was he who was shooting blanks. Consequently, she allowed herself to be secretly impregnated by two other men.

The title, "The Patience Stone," refers to a legend in which a character confesses all her grief to a stone and when the stone finally shatters, she's freed of all her guilt and sorrow. It plays into the movie's climactic scene, which I won't describe.

The acting is as good as it is in any Hollywood movie, the setting is evocative, and all the elements fit together properly. It's pretty well done. You're not likely to be bored.

But I have to add two observations. The voices tell me to do it. I know two anthropologists who have done field work in Middle Eastern cultures. One told me that she'd met a middle-aged lady who had never had a period because she was constantly made pregnant by her husband. Another told me that the burqa is not a particularly good way of hiding a woman's beauty from the boys on the street corners, who sometimes whistled when a woman wearing a tent passed by. They muttered, "Wow -- look at those FEET!" And why not? The feet are the windows of the soul. So it is written.

One of those very rare masterpieces that come as sheer satisfactions after years of wait! The whole movie reveals itself with a poetic subtleness of sorts... The innocence, the earthly beauty and the strength that Farahani's character in the film demanded are so exquisitely conveyed by her. There is a 'Halo' that surrounds Farahani's character throughout. The metaphorical references used to convey the broader meaning of the plot are simply magical in their appeal.

The complexity of human relations and how at times they become so dependent on our social hierarchies and cultural structures, that its almost a magic to sanely come out of those. From the time the film opens, the gravity of the characters pull you deep into the film and are very difficult to let go of, even long after the movie ends..!! Persian and Afghan cinema has always that 'literary' kind of capacity which broadens ones perspectives, however this one is at a whole new level. Such work is a rarity in most of the other modern Asian cinema.. Its quite amazing that this insightful art work come from one of the most politically disturbed places of our world..

An argument can be made for four stars based on a few minor weaknesses in the acting, script, location, directing but the uniqueness of this story overrides being that overly punctilious.

We see the world through the forbidden thoughts and eyes of a young attractive female; as a wife and as a Muslim as she faces the challenge of surviving alone and yet caring for a comatose husband and two young daughters, within a war ravaged side street in Kabul, Afghanistan. The period is shortly after the Soviet incursion into that country but just as poignant today. She is constantly threatened by her loneness, her poverty and by armed militants imposing their wills upon this street's inhabitant.

Another movie concerning the travails of girls and women in he Muslim world is the enjoyable and succinct "Wadjda". We should all support those organizations that try to give girls & women a chance at education in Afghanistan, Pakistan as well as other countries.

Atiq Rahimi's 'The Patience Stone' tells the story of an Afghan woman, played by Golshifteh Farahani, in war-torn Kabul. She keeps watch over her comatose husband (Hamid Djavadan). She's left alone to care for herself and her two daughters, with little money and virtually no family support apart from an aunt.

We learn of a life of torment for the young wife, before and during her marriage, and who is forced to take drastic measures just to survive and continue caring for her husband. Part confessional, part therapeutic, we see the wife talking openly and frankly to her husband about her past. One particular story relating to her wedding is both hilarious and tragic.

Her frustrations turn to anger and hysteria, she becomes more emboldened in her thoughts as she knows this could be her only chance to be so brazenly honest. Ironically, this is the closest the woman comes to a happy relationship with her husband, who has been absent whether he has been with her or not. Its as if she is carrying the hopes of women in Afghanistan, railing against the oppression of men which is symbolised by her husband. His paralysis allows her to blossom, by the end of the film we see a changed woman.

Exquisitely shot by Thierry Arbogast, 'The Patience Stone' is a wonderful study of a woman under immense restraint. Rahimi takes some big risks, as does Farahani, by breaking social, cultural, sexual and religious taboos in a film full of controversy. Farahani is exceptional, revealing the stress points of her character with tenderness and honesty. Her wonderfully poetic voice, and the way she tells the story, combined with such an expressive face, leaves a lasting impression on you.

Awe-inspiringly powerful, The Patience Stone is one of the greatest character films I have ever seen - without a doubt. With immaculate cinematography, camera work and acting, this stands tall as a film I can't describe to be anything other than perfect.

This was a movie unlike anything I have ever seen. A real eye opener into life in a war-torn country. Fascinating, lovely, and tragic.

So often times I find I am most appreciated in my role as husband, the less I say. Honestly, it came up the evening before I watched this film. That being said, I'm not quite willing to take a bullet in the neck to help the process. Alas only a bullet and no Oscar for Hamid Djavadan as the husband in this film. Although it used to be a theory that mute actresses could win an award for similar roles.

Golshifteh Farahani is the actress here, and far from mute, she finds her voice/strength/resolve. Her beauty is striking, did anyone else find that detracted some from the dire dilapidation of her village and situation. The filmmakers did try to muss her up some, but in "The Patience Stone" we are reminded again that a jewel in the rough is still a jewel. Radiant.

And this film is all hers, with perhaps the most soliloquies you'll see this side of graduation week at an arts college. Her face runs an impressive gamut of expression, but as I bought the air of impending danger (one scene in particular with a neighbor driven mad really resonated), that I had a hard time with her character registering anything more than shock. Granted I realize far too many people (and children) grow up in such troubling circumstances, and that alone is mind-boggling. (And soul-shaking.) There are interesting side-story and back-story aspects (The Aunt!!) so perhaps the book would be best to start with (I had intended to, but didn't get around to it.) Mostly this film is a story of perhaps the most impossible marital counseling one could ever expect.

Although, there are some things I bet you will expect while watching it, and while the fair Ms. Farahani is Iranian, this film is definitely French and becomes so the more it progresses.

Still something different to watch and contemplate (no Fatwa so far for the director). I did learn of Dari (a Farsi variant from Afghanistan, but I've no clue what native speakers of either thought about this film, and I would be curious.) Also the yellow burqa was an indelible image. I looked a little for Islamic symbolism for the same. Watching Farahani flip it on and still infuse that billowing robe with her energy was eye-catching. I did wonder as she went into a pharmacy at one point how people could quickly tell who is who in such a situation. I imagine it can be done, something about the specific burqa and how the woman moves within it....of course the voice, but it seems having a stunt double or misdirection/fake alibi by virtue of the burqa could happen.

Probably identifying women in their burqas is easier than I can imagine, but perhaps misleading mullahs is easier than they too can imagine? Let me know when that film is made ;> The film definitely felt more like a play come to the big screen than a book, but perhaps the book was streamlined to fit. Guess I'd recommend trying to read it first, but watching the film is worth one's while, especially for fawning fans of Farahani.

By the way, perhaps leaving some stones unturned is okay?

As others have stated, this is an unusual film. It's amazing that the screenwriter-director who adapted his own play for the screen did not become another Salman Rushdie, with a fatwa directed against him. (Maybe that did happen and I just don't know about it.) While I agree with the film's central theme, the terrible injustices done to females in Muslim countries, I think the film goes too far to make its point. It ends up in the same category as movies like "Thelma and Louise" and "Sling Blade." Both of those films refused to include a straight male with anything decent or likable about him. All men were shown as being jerks at best. In "Silence of the Lambs," the only men Clarice could trust were much older (Scott Glenn, her boss) or crazy like Hannibal Lechter. The Scott Glenn character was okay because his age made him seem kind of asexual, not horny, not a threat.

**SPOILERS** If its story is taken literally, "The Patience Stone" would actually be presenting us with a terribly dumb or delusional protagonist. The young Muslim woman who takes care of her obviously dead husband does not seem to notice any unpleasant odor coming from her husband's corpse as it lies in a room for several days. Nor does she take note of the rigor mortis that would have set in. The shock ending, which has this man suddenly open his eyes and become violent toward her after she reveals the final secret/insult to his "values" that is distasteful enough to awaken his corpse has to be taken in an allegorical, folktale sort of way. The filmmakers could not really be asking us to take his awakening at face value.

As in "Sling Blade," in which a mentally challenged male is the only kind of straight male who is worthy of approval, in "The Patient Stone," only an orphaned young (still trainable) male -- who himself is abused by other men -- is worthy of the protagonist's love. Only a damaged male is a good male.

**END OF SPOILERS**

It's easy to root for this protagonist. She has been treated was than an animal by her religion and the men. But not every ax needs grinding that is this thorough. Not every pro-female-rights movie needs to demonize every male unless he is old or handicapped.

In "Body of State", Golshifteh was great as an unbelievable native girlfriend of an American spy. Today, she is still great as an unbelievable abused "afghan" (?) wife. So her talent is never questioned (all the more that she may us forget that with her long monologue, she is actually alone) but it's her characters that have defects.

In "Syngue Sabour", her father beats her, he gives her sister to pay a debt, she is forced wife, her husband is gone the wedding day, he is impotent so she has children from another man to escape repudiation, he is badly wounded at the war so she has to look after him, she met a stuttering lover, and finally, she lives in the middle of a war. Well, it's too much for a young mother and finally her story isn't credible.

In addition, her character is full of contradictions: does she love her children or are they a burden? If her husband is so bad, why all her care? Has she fall with the soldier or does she plays with him ? And what about her final fate ?

Worst, the world she lives in isn't explained: You can't figure where, when and what happens. The city itself isn't shown: you don't know where lives the aunt (or what she does), where's the house, the pharmacy. You are stuck in this bare room with its cave and its garden.

In a way, with such a twisted tale and without exposition, everything is done to break the emotion.

For those who would like to find a cry for Muslim woman, it's a disappointment because as it's too much on a side, it lacks a balanced truth. And it's not about spirituality per se but rather gender relationships in another culture.

But, it's not totally crap either: Goldshifteh carries the whole movie on her courageous shoulders. She is intense as she experiences a hard life without any comfort and succeeds nonetheless to find happiness and peace. In a way, with such plot holes and exaggeration, the story could pass for a fairy tale except that it's not for kid but rather adult oriented as it's desire that's exposed.