Films from countries like Iran, places full of oppression and upheaval, tend to be heavy and somber, so the lightness of Panahi’s Offside comes at first as a sort of surprise. Like his past films, this is a movie that engages directly with the problems of Iranian society (and has been banned in his home country), but it does so in a sweet, exuberant way that portrays the human connections that can thrive even in the most rigid, authoritarian environments.
It’s also a movie about the love of soccer, which is glimpsed only once, briefly, but infuses the whole film. The sport is so popular that young women in Tehran, who are banned from attending soccer games, will dress as men and try to sneak into the stadium for a chance to see their country’s team play for a shot at the World Cup. The film follows a group of such young women who are caught and imprisoned in a makeshift jail at the stadium, watched over by equally young and soccer-obsessed soldiers. Obviously Panahi disapproves of this policy (and what it indicates about the status of women in Iran), but he doesn’t bludgeon the audience with his stance.
Instead, he focuses on moments of light comedy and surprising intimacy between characters. When one girl manages to escape the soldiers on a trip to the bathroom (which becomes an epic struggle in the context of the game going on around them), she eventually turns herself back in because she feels bad for the officer in charge, who pines for the simple life on his family farm. As trapped as the women are by society’s rules, the male soldiers are just as trapped by the institution they serve.
Compared with the intensity of Panahi’s last film, Crimson Gold, Offside seems like a lazy, sunny afternoon. The specter of repression hangs over the entire film, but as it ends with the girls joining the crowds in the street celebrating their team’s victory, it is ultimately, satisfyingly joyous.