User Reviews

I felt the need to defend this film as I don't believe it deserves the above rant. It is true that we are not given many details about the three characters whose stories are presented. But we are given enough to feel sympathy for the girl whose childhood is over, the woman who just wants to be allowed to ride her bike, and the woman who was finally able to buy the things she's always wanted. The English title evokes an expectation that each of these stories represents a transition.

As a woman, it sometimes occurs to me to wonder what that means exactly. This film explores the fact of being a woman and what it means to become one. Was Hoora not a woman before today? We are left to imagine what her life was like before and what brought her to this circumstance, but clearly these details are not so important.

This film is an exploration, not a documentary. It is beautiful and bittersweet (and personally I liked the music) It is not Hollywood by any standard but it is not complicated and even to a Westerner like me it held a lot of truth. It's purpose can be as much to explore one's own views as those of the Iranian filmmaker, and should be viewed as a piece of art rather than a mainstream American movie. Give it a chance, it's only 74 minutes.

I had completely forgotten about this movie, until I had a dream about the bicycles and the beach at the end. The more I thought back, the more I wanted to see it again.

I know this film has a very firm political message, but the images are so simple, universal and kinda powerful they linger with you, or at least have with me for years.

Three stories, none of which connect, about woman living in Iran, a young girl who finds out she has has to go to the "all girls" school soon, leaving behind her male friends, a woman bicycles away from her wedding and refuses to pull over, an and elderly woman whose husband is dead who can now do what she has always wanted, create the home of her dreams, with furniture right along the beach; a house without walls.

Effective, original, and poignant. When does one, become a woman(or man), and why? How is it different for each character, how is it the same, and what does is spell out once it's all putt together? ...almost makes me want to learn to ride a bike.

I saw "Roozi khe zan shodam" ("The Day I Became a Woman") a few days ago during the Memorial Day holiday. It was a good film with strong, subtle acting and quite interesting camera shots.

In a nutshell, the film is about women in contemporary Iran. It depicts compelling accounts about a girl who has just turned nine and is now therefore considered to be a woman and expected to leave childhood play behind; a woman's bicycle race and the strong objection a husband has to his wife's participation; and an elderly woman who has in earlier life deferred her desires to buy consumer goods and finally has the opportunity to realize her spending dreams.

Without having lived in or even visited Iran, I can't judge the realism of "Roozi khe zan shodam". The camera offers us an innocent, child-like eye, just observing these characters and leaving us to draw our own conclusions. I particularly enjoyed the cinematography of the mass of women cyclists, all clad in black practically head to foot, pedaling away almost entirely in silence except for the rhythmic pedaling noises; and the parallel shots focusing on the legs of the galloping horses, carrying the complaining husband and his cohorts. The pedaling wife Ahoo (Shabnam Tolui) never speaks a word, but her focused and desperate efforts indicate her quest for increased independence. I also enjoyed following the activities of 9-year-old Hava (Fatemeh Cherag Akhar).

I would see "Roozi khe zan shodam" again for its cinematography and the unique (at least for Western audiences) life experiences depicted. It's by no means Hollywood fare or even overtly feminist, but allows the viewer to settle in for a bit of (realistic or stylized?) local color and look at perspectives there of women in three different stages in their lives.

It was, in some ways, a strange film. Its' use of symbolism, combined with the mystery of incomplete plots gave it a unique look, and oddly made the film better than it probably is. There are folks who won't care much for this film, but I found it a charming and poignant look at the status of women in Islamic nations. How tradition is clashing with changing times.

I liked the first segment best, because of it's sweet sadness. I next like the third segment, because the old lady was quite charming. And though I did like the middle segment, I found it the hardest to follow and understand.

This isn't a great film, but it is a very good one. Technically it's below what I've come to expect from a film, but it conveys it's message well and does so with bittersweet sadness which works well for this film. It may be an Iranian "feminist" movie, but it's worth a look.

Nothing against the American industry, but if you are looking for a Hollywood type of movie try something else. Yes, there is plenty of beauty and fantasy, but not in the American fashion. Here the stories and people and places are very simple (and very deep). Yet, the fantasy is so real that you can very easily transpose it to your own life, regardless if you came from Middle East, Japan or Americas. Well, as long as you have some brains and some subtlety. After I saw this movie I spent weeks thinking about it,and I learned so much. Every single detail of the story, camera work and sound has a meaning.

I read a magazine review critic complaining the movie was boring, specially the first story, in which the girl (according to that critic review) was a very bad actress, concerned about not playing that day, but not showing emotions for what her life was going to be. Does a nine year old girl understand what is "becoming a woman"? Of course not, her understanding was limited to that moment when she was being forbidden to play with her best friend. This is exactly what made the story so universal, I could remember myself (raised on an environment with freedom for women) waiting for the permissions of my mother, desperately waiting for the time of the adults. And inside the critical context of the movie, her lack of understanding of what her life was going to become was also very important. Inside that real life drama, people take care of their everyday lives, and go on. Oh, and so many other meanings and symbols just in this first story. The wind and water (also present in the other two stories), the plastic fish by which she exchanges her chaddor, her little time passing away and she unable to use it and still waiting, her availability, the lollipop teasing across the bar separating her from her boy friend (the *given* pleasure the only control left to her), her mother coming to pick her up, etc.

The other two stories are as good and universal. Even if you live inside a women's lib society, even if you are a man. This movie is a work of art. So, it demands sensibility for understanding it. If you are looking for fast food entertainment, forget about it.

A poetic cinematic triptych, the stories are loosely connected, but the images are striking. Perhaps there is a thread between the simple childish pleasure of sharing a treat, the battle for independence (that feverish bike scene) and then the delayed pleasure for an old woman at long last achieved, but perhaps not so meaningful.

Images persist: the scarf as makeshift sail, the bikes vs horses, the luxurious appliances festooned upon the beach.

Thank you for the reviewers who mentioned Kish Island, there was something about the location in the film that I sensed was striking and special, and reading some I understand more but not enough about that place, if not Iranian women.

Having followed Iranian cinema for a while I didn't think I was in for a surprise but Meshkini (director) managed to blow me away with the minimalist approach to depicting the fundamental issues of Iranian society. The elegance, minimalism and eloquence of this picture manage to depict the role of a woman in Iran with painful clarity.

"Roozi khe zan shodam" is an essential and defining piece of cinema.

A trio of seemingly non-connected stories create the visually and symbolically beautiful Iranian film "The Day I Became a Woman". It is an interesting, if occasionally redundant peek into one perspective on the phases of a woman's life in Iran. Each of the three stories deals with women attempting in their own way to assert themselves, as a means to overcome the cultural constraints of being a woman in this country. The film is heavy on symbolism, which at times works wonderfully, but frequently bogs down any attempts that are made toward story.

The second segment is the weakest, as it chooses style over substance with a fantastic usage of a constantly moving camera to symbolically convey women advancing (on bicycle) beyond men (on antiquated horseback). The results, however, are boredom, and not of vicarious triumph. The first story is a charming view at childhood that meanders, much like a child, but is ultimately far too chatty for its own good. The visuals express more than any of the dialogue translated for the English subtitles. The humorous and visually striking third segment makes up any squirming during the rest of it.

"The Day I Became a Woman" may be a difficult film to get through with American sensibilities, but if taken for its parts instead of its whole it's well worth it.

I saw this gem of a film a few months ago and it has lived with me ever since. There are lots of great things to talk about but I will only mention a few. I liked the striking images of the sea and the shore and the manner in which they are imbued with great meaning. The sea - which represents adventure, sensuality, fluidity, freedom and sex - is a constant motif throughout the film and is a joy to look at. I also liked the structure - reminiscent of Hemingway's short stories - where characters from one story seem to reappear in others.

But though connected through theme and also through the plot, the individual films retain a great level of distinctiveness. For instance, the second film remains unresolved at the end and the discussion of the two fellow riders in the third movie only have the effect of heightening that suspense. On the other hand, the third film has the effect of satisfactorily and unexpectedly wrapping up the first film: whereas the girl in the first film was denied the chance to enjoy the sea (and everything it represents), the old woman in the third film takes her revenge by completely inverting tradition. The image of the old woman and those motifs of domesticity being carried away on the sea is unusual but also funny. In putting not only herself but also her whole house on the sea, the old woman has inverted tradition and has the ultimate revenge.

Like most anthology films it's a mixed bag. I much preferred the first segment, with its reasonably straightforward storyline and strong statement of the overall theme of womens' subordination through the actions of adults and children, to the other two, the first of which hits you over the head with a feminist mallet (the female cyclist versus the fanatic horsemen) or becomes enmeshed in Fellini-esque, surrealist symbolism (the old woman, liberated by the death of her husband, ferrying her newfound wealth, via children, out of Iran, by sea). Give it a B minus, mostly for the first 25 min and the striking imagery throughout.

This is a beautifully shot, richly textured film. Its decidedly surrealist elements do not detract from its poignant central message: that the arbitrary social conventions which govern womens' lives in Iran are inherently absurd. What is so striking about this film is the way in which the director brings out this element of absurdity by transplanting an Iranian narrative onto the bizarre setting of Kish Island, a free trade zone and resort off the coast of Iran. The women in the film are all forced to play out the roles assigned for them by Iranian society, despite the virtual absence of the state, which is so often demonized in treatments of Iranian women's lives.

THE DAY I BECAME A WOMAN / (2001) 1/2* (out of four)

By Blake French:

Marzieh Meshkini's "The Day I Became a Woman" is about middle eastern females whom we know nothing about, care nothing about, and thus are in a predicament to keep ourselves occupied throughout the film's brief running time of 74 minutes. The movie is not even as long as the recent "Pokemon" movies, but it feels so much longer. We just sit and collect dust while the movie repeats the same tone over and over and over. If you only have an hour to live, see this movie-it will seem like a week.

"The Day I Became a Woman" contains an interesting history. Experienced Iranian filmmaker Mohsen Makhmalbaf decided to stop making films and start teaching. This was the birth of Makhmalbaf Film House, a film school starting off with only eight students. During the course of their studies, the students produced several films as their school projects, including "The Day I Became A Woman," by Makhmalbaf's wife, Marzieh Meshkini.

What is Marzieh Meshkini trying to show us with "The Day I Became A Woman"? "…women whose problem is being who they are: women," clarifies Meshkini in press notes. I can certainly see potential in a production about the Eastern societies struggling with the status of women, but this film does not steer in many interesting directions. Since this film's "story" is actually three separate short "stories," why don't we take a look at each individual scenario.

Scenario 1: A young girl named Havva (Fatemaeh Cheragh Akhtar) turns nine years old and is kept from going outside her home to play with her friend. Her grandmother and mother explain to her she has finally become a woman. After negotiating with her guardians, she has until noon to finish her childhood.

There is a lot of symbolism here. Take a scene where the nine-year-old girl tries to persuade a young boy to come outside his house and play with her. As she stands outside, free and spacious, he stands inside, peering out his window, laced with metal bars, temporality bedridden until he completes his homework. This may represent the final stages of Havva's childhood, and how the boy can do nothing to stop the clock, but must stand back and watch. But it is hard to tell. Maybe by portraying him on the inside unable to come out the film is showing what Havva will soon experience? The child actors do a good job of incorporating innocent behavior with confusion, but the film never explores the character's intentions.

Scenario 2: A young woman pedals frivolously in a bike race on an island as she is confronted by her husband, in laws, and elders of her clan. As they attempt to keep up with her on horses, trying to persuade her to return to her original family.

This is where the movie travels down hill, even though it never really started on an uphill note. We know nothing about this woman riding her bike, nor about the various men who try to persuade her to return home. The movie never explains what is going on, does not develop characters, and implies its themes, which are distant and, once again, unclear. I do not know a lot about middle eastern music, but this soundtrack is laughable, consisting of a series of grunts and awkward outbursts. There is some bizarre filmmaking, as well. The camera often zooms in on the road ahead of the woman, then cuts to the bicycle wheels then the pedals-but why? What is this trying to show? How a woman escapes from her restrictive traditions? Then for the love of God tell us more!

Scenario 3: An elderly woman who rides in a wheelchair lands in an island airport and hires a young local boy to aid her in the shopping spree of her life.

Just when we think "The Day I Became A Woman" could not get any worse, it does. Here, we have an old woman fulfilling her desires to own everything she never had. The movie makes subtle implications that the three women are actually the same person, witnessed at different episodes in her life. But that is never really explored either. It seriously lacks interest and an entertaining tone. Even movies that are as serious as a heart attack capture a mood or atmosphere that grabs our attention in some way. However, "The Day I Became a Woman" never does.

"The Day I Became A Woman" is very tedious filmmaking. I am forced to examine my own standards here, since my overall rating of the movie is extremely low. But the movie is obviously not intended for me. I give the movie one half of a star because it has decent performances and is well constructed. But watching this movie almost put me to sleep. What can I say? This picture was a complete and utter waste of 74 minutes of my life.

What I like most in "The Day I Became A Woman" is the structure of it (3 tales starting with a 9 year old girl, moving on to a young woman and finishing with an old woman).

My favorite part is the last part, a dreamy, surreal tale of an old woman who goes to Kish Island to fulfill her dreams. It is the most humorous of the three tales too.

The style of the day I became a woman is different from other Iranian movies of this decade, and that is another reason that it makes it so charming.

Don't think too hard and try to enjoy the image. It is beautiful.

On the surface this film tells three simple stories, but its simplicity is deceiving. Each story tells an episode in the life of a woman but as the woman ages the stories become more and more surreal. In so doing Marzieh Meshkini is making a parallel with the life of Iranian women.

Absolutely stunning. On the surface it's a triptych of short stories showing a girl, young wife, and old woman in Iran, but it plays as allegory, and the way it's executed by director Marzieh Meshkini is masterful. She shows great restraint and precision in everything she does, delivering a message with enough ambiguity to make the viewer ponder, and yet clearly showing the constraints of being a woman in a male-dominated society. The middle story in particular was as poetic and profound an expression of the patriarchy as I've ever seen; it was simply breathtaking. This is a film that should be far better known and seen; seek it out.

One can already see the signs of self-imitation: the preoccupation

with rural, "primitive" Iran (infuriating Iranian academics who want

to see the primarily urban population of the country represented--they want their Woody Allen movies!); the cloying use

of upturned child faces; the cloying use of old-lady faces as

wrinkled as a donkey's ear; the simple folkloric picture-tells-a-thousand-words image that seems to come out of a

Sunday-school primer's cartoons. Yadda yadda yadda, or so it

seems at this point, as Mrs. Mohsan Makhmalbaf, Marzieh

Meshkini, makes her first film. (Let it be said that this is not unlike

the prominent debut of...A Kate Capshaw Picture.) Makhmalbaf

wrote the script, Mrs. MM ploddingly directed. The picture is a lightly

feminist take on three women "becoming a woman today": the first,

a little girl, is forced to wear the deathly, tomblike,

all-encompassing chador on her ninth birthday. The second, an

adult woman, is pursued by her husband and a mullah on

horseback because she has committed the unpardonable sin

of...cycling. The last and un-flattest episode concerns an old

woman, seemingly poor as a churchmouse, who comes into a

pile of money and wants to buy everything her heart desires.

Rather than veering into the Requiem for a Dreamish, this story

flirts with magical realism--yet stays anchored in literal reality. The

last shot, yoking together the girl from Story #1 and the granny from

Story #2, has a slingshot-like power that might've made the whole

ordeal worthwhile...if it were a short.

THE DAY I BECAME A WOMAN has the flat, building-block structure

of a learning director's short movie. Only it's almost eighty minutes

long. The Iranian cinema is in dire risk of veering into mannerism

at this point. Kiarostami's last movie, THE WIND WILL CARRY US,

seemed boringly, self-consciously Kiarostamiesque; and this

picture evokes other, better films and filmmakers. Someone

needs to point in a new direction; self-parody is inching up the

horizon.

This is one of the dullest and most overrated movies I have ever had to watch - and no, I didn't come into it expecting "Hollywood fare" (god, what a cliché phrase...do all these prissy reviewers merely throw that term into their reviews to remind themselves that they just watched a foreign flick?). I merely came in expecting an interesting film with decent acting and some nice cinematography.

Instead, I was treated to three repetitive vignettes featuring women and children I didn't care at all for, stilted dialogue made ten times worse by the fact that I could understand what they were saying, and hit-you-over-the-head symbolism (WAVES CRASHING, for god's sake). I have nothing positive to say about this other than it had some nice scenery, but even the SCENERY was ruined by the director's insistence on dragging out every shot at least 10 seconds more than was necessary.

Avoid this like you would an angry Persian on a horse.

Director Marziyeh Meshkini's film "The Day I Became a Woman" is an incredibly intelligent examination of a number of important challenges: the transition from childhood to adulthood, the pain inherent in asserting individual will, and the condition of womanhood. These themes are explored in the stories of three individual women of different generations, and each vignette contains powerful insights about the meaning of femininity, not only in Iranian culture but throughout human society.

I'm also glad this film is out on DVD soon (October 18). This DVD looks like it will be particularly good; it comes with an audio-commentary by Richard Pena and an essay by Shirin Neshat, an amazing Iranian artist and photographer. I found the film's website: thedayibecameawoman.com, and it's worth a look if you want to find out more about this film.

Meshkini's skill as a director highlights beautifully the complexities of such issues; she uses powerful symbolism and even surrealist imagery to give each vignette depth and energy. I am particularly fond of the first, in which we are introduced to a young girl on her 9th birthday. She is informed by her mother and grandmother that after this day, she will become a woman, and must accept all the societal impositions that this entails. Her reaction is not defiance or rebellion, neither is it resigned acceptance. She is a complete human being, and nothing separates her from her present reality.

Meshkini gives the view a great deal to ponder through the entire film, and leaves her viewers with new, fresh ideas and ways of thinking about human society. I whole-heartedly recommend this film to those who do not take for granted the roles and lifestyles assigned by society.

The first story is about a little girl Hava wanting to play with Hassan. Hava checking for the shadow of the stick every once in a while, speed of exchange of the lollipop between Hava and Hassan, as time draws to a close, are all captured elegantly and matter-of-factly, on film. The boys setting off with the chador as sail and Hava being taken away by her mother are very poignant scenes, perhaps indicative of the freedom that males enjoy compared to the restrictions imposed when a girl becomes a woman.

The second story is about a girl (around 20'ish) by the name Ahoo cycling herself away from all the societal strings imposed on her. The camera work is stunning, to say the least, beginning with the deer and pigeons that get scared by the animated shouting of the man mounted on a horse galloping at tremendous speed, until he comes up on the hordes of young girls, riding bicycles. The black of the burqa contrasts with the deep blue of the ocean. The bursts of speed that Ahoo gets are probably symbolic of the dollops of energy that Ahoo gets on successfully ignoring the pleadings of her husband, the priest, her father and her tribe.

The third story is about an old lady with a horde of boys gorging on a shopping spree. The comedy in the portrayal does not dilute the impact of the statements of the lady that she had all along wanted to enjoy life and that "they" did not let her. The music, the merry making of the boys on the beach and the caring black boy all enmesh well into the script. At the end, as expected, the director tries to interweave Hava and Ahoo into the old lady's story. But, it is commendable that this is done without any pretext or justification, with the director careful about not trying to give any "answers", so to speak. The name of the old lady – Hoora being revealed at the fag end of the movie compared to Hava and Ahoo being revealed in the very first scenes, is also striking.

To me, it seemed as if the director was trying to say that the process of denial starts with a girl becoming a woman (story of Hava), and all her life, she tries to escape from the trappings imposed by the society, ultimately she may not be successful in this (story of Ahoo). Finally, it is when one is as old as one can get, that a woman is able to enjoy whatever she dreamt of, all her life (story of Hoora). By then, she does not have anyone to enjoy these with, and is beginning on the journey towards completion and fulfillment of life.

Quite similar in style and effect to "Where is the Friend's Home" (Knane-ye doust kodjast? 1987), "The Day I Became a Woman" portrays the three stages of becoming through the eyes of a young girl. The cinematography pulls the viewer into the very essence of being a woman in Iran. With all the preconceived notions of what that might entail for any American, we are given a glimpse of what is underneath that veil. The simplicity of womanhood, or what one might take for granted, confronts a very stark reality when one thinks of all the parallels that could be made with women's roles in both Iran and all over the world. Iran and other "Third World Countries" (sorry for such a contrite expression) are mysterious to "First World Countries" because they have been able to retain qualities inherently necessary to the development of modern technology. Likewise, women have withstood exploitation through various crafts, and thus stand to lose so much if they chose to give up their inherent qualities. A young girl, in the first segment of the film, reflects those qualities. The generous and unselfish interest she shows for a young boy preoccupied with his homework is quite remarkable. Behind bars, this boy can only give her a portion of what she wants. "Come out and play with me," she emotes, finds reciprocation only through a couple of pieces of sweet and sour candy. As her time runs out, and her mother arrives with a veil, metaphorically conveying her movement into womanhood, she must leave her childhood friend behind those bars, even though the camera's position suggests that she is subordinate to this imprisoned friend. Secondary, only to the first portion of the film, is a bicycle race showing hundreds of young women competing for first place. The poignant contrast between horse's hooves and bicycle wheels is crucial to the understanding of tradition confronted with modernity. While at this point in the film one is still unsure as to what the greater message in this film could be, one does get the sense that sheer determination and motivation will allow women to move way out in front of the competition. Unfortunately the traditional husband's persistent along side gallop pulls her out of the race as she cannot transcend the moral dilemma of turning her back on her own tribe and brothers. Finally, an woman returning to her native country, waiving hello to her future and goodbye to a past which was never able to provide for all of her desires, arrives only to acquire commodities which she feels will rectify her insatiable wants. She recognizes only that for which she has made provisions. For example, a refrigerator corresponding to the piece of cloth tied on her index finger, a vacuum used to suck up sand on the beach where all her purchased items are arranged, not to mention the large bed which could sleep the dozen boys trailing her out of the mall. These are all superfluous items given her age. She forgets about those around her, as she embarks a large ship to take her and her belongings somewhere to enjoy them without other menaces, while young women who lost the bicycle race ask, "What will you do with all of these things? We could use these as dowries so that we may be married." In short, after a very long discussion, "The Day I Became a Woman" shows how Iranian women's roles remain to be exploited, and that it will depend on varying degrees of their own willingness, motivation and determination.

A good example of how unfair the movie industry world can be. A very bad Romanian movie, [4 luni, 3 saptamâni si 2 zile](http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1032846/), can go as high as Palme d'Or and have multiple good reviews all over the world because of the drama of a European young woman who lacks reproductive rights. This one is better done and has a more impressive story, but a veiled woman from Iran seems to open less doors than the son of a communist nomenklaturist doctor.

Compared with the messy story of 4 luni, 3 saptamâni si 2 zile I should have given it 10/10. But I feel there is room on improvement on a technical side. And this looks more than an universal human story, than the case of a simple illustration of Islam in a country that used to be far closer in civilization to Europe than it is now. I just remembered the fundamentalist Christian thought from my country. Thank you Marzieh Makhmalbaf.

Contact me with Questions, Comments or Suggestions ryitfork @ bitmail.ch

This is probably my favorite film that no one knows about. It represents a vision so precise and axiomatic, and it's incredible that anyone could have created anything so ethereal and powerful from something so simple and ordinary. Invented by Marziyeh Meshkini, this triptych of parabolic short stories detail gender inequality in an increasingly modern Iran. There is absolutely no pretense to this film. There is no attempt to make a "movie". Objective, to the point of vérité, Meshkini's camera simply reveals what happens without manipulation or ornamentation. Counterpoint to this attempt at realism is the fact The Day I Became a Woman works entirely with metaphors, and this contradiction is what fuels its sense of incorporeality. Aside from its use of metaphors, the film derives such strength from the relation between its images. These two factors come together perhaps strongest in the second act. Hundreds of women, covered in black burkas, in stark contrast to the bleak wasteland of desert terrain and enveloped by the coastline, speed along on bicycles with the desperation of insects escaping fire. The idea is that they are escaping tradition and Iran's oppressive nature towards women. Men on horses chase one of the women who refuses to return to her husband. The relationship between the horses and the bicycles are intercut, showing tradition in opposition to modern progress. The other two parables are equally effective and show women of different ages (one younger and one much older) who have their own moments of independence and agency. I see a lot of Varda and Fellini in her work, and it's clear that Meshkini could have only created such an effective piece of cinema because she truly knows and loves the art form.

An anthology film about women in Iran directed by Mohsen Makhmalbaf's wife (Mohsen co-wrote the screenplay). This has some interesting images, but, as a whole, it's quite a bore. The first story of three barely qualifies as a story. A girl, on her 9th birthday, is told she is a woman. She has to wear a head scarf and is not allowed to play with boys. But, okay, she can play with her boy friend for a while if she wears her head scarf. The two kids end up sharing a lollipop. That's about it. The second story is the strongest, but it goes on far longer than it needs to. A woman participates in a bicycle race, though it's considered undignified for women. Her husband, riding alongside her on a horse, threatens to divorce her if she doesn't quit. The short is somewhat surreal and obviously very symbolic. The third tale has an old woman being carted around on a wheelchair by a young boy. She wishes to go to all the stores and buy things. Then she puts all her stuff on flotation devices and goes out to sea. The three stories connect a bit at the end. The whole thing feels rather pointless.