TATAMI - Mark Reviews Movies

Tatami, XYZ Films

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Review by Mark Dujsik | June 12, 2025

Just as it is for the main characters, Tatami isn't just about a judo competition. Co-directors Zar Amir (who also co-stars) and Guy Nattiv (who also co-wrote the screenplay) subvert that entire setup as soon as it becomes clear that our protagonist's success could have dire consequences for her, her coach, and the families of both women. To win here is almost certainly to lose in ways that go far beyond sports.

To give up, though, might be worse, or at least, that's the case for Leila Hosseini (Arienne Mandi), a judoka from Iran with a very good chance of winning the gold medal at the World Judo Championships. It would be her first competition win, as well as the first time her home country would be at the top of this competition. Leila has come to the Georgian city of Tbilisi with her coach Maryam (Amir), a former fighter who had to retire after an injury, and the rest of the Iranian team, and the build-up to Leila's first match is filled with the kind of rising anticipation and tension we expect from this sort of story.

That's the trick of the screenplay, written by Nattiv and Elham Efrani (who also plays the team's assistant coach), as it settles us into the usual course of a sports drama. Leila arrives at the arena, filled with cheering fans and bright lights that make the distinction between the eponymous judo mats and the shadows of the stands even harsher with the film's black-and-white cinematography. She listens to music, selected by a friend back home, on headphones to mentally prepare herself, and before she steps out on to the floor for the first time, she receives a call from her husband Nader (Ash Goldeh), who has taken the couple's son with him to that friend's house to watch her compete with a steadily increasing number of other well-wishers back in Iran.

The stakes here, in other words, seem plain, obvious, and basically set in the stone of the formula of a traditional sports movie. Leila is our underdog, because no one from Iran has done what she hopes to do at the tournament, and everyone—from the crowd, to the commentators, to even some of the event's coordinators—is excited at the prospect. Leila is set to win for her country, her friends, her family, and primarily, as it soon becomes painfully clear, herself, and even Maryam has a lot of personal and professional investment in her judoka, because Leila's achievements are hers, too.

Little about this story, however, is so simple. The first sign that something is amiss comes when Leila greets fellow competitor Shani (Lir Katz) and the two briefly catch up with each other in a friendly way. Maryam stares at the conversation, along with some other members of her team. Leila notices and puts a quick end to a parting hug. Shani is from and representing Israel, and while that doesn't mean anything to Leila, it clearly means a lot to other people on the team.

Back in Iran, the possibility that Leila may face Shani in the tournament becomes an immediate scandal. Once the sports minister and others even higher up in the government learn of this information, Maryam receives a call, ordering her to tell Leila to drop out of the competition—even if that means faking an injury. Leila refuses.

From that point, the film transforms entirely from something that seems routine and straightforward into a growing nightmare of political controversy, government-led oppression, and a claustrophobic thriller in which a threat could be anywhere and is apparently willing to do anything to put a stop to Leila's dream. As she keeps competing, the calls keep coming to Maryam, with the voices on the other end becoming angrier and more insistent that both the fighter and the coach will suffer the consequences of Leila's continued participation. A man in the stands seems to focus all of his attention on Leila whenever she emerges from the back rooms to fight. In Iran, Nader tells his wife, who calls him to let him know that people might be coming for him and their son, that there's a car, with someone appearing as if he's watching the building, parked across the street from the apartment where he's watching the tournament.

It becomes an impossible situation, in other words, because Leila has no intention of giving into the demands of her government, as some pointed flashbacks show the hypocrisy of those in power and her mounting feeling that she won't be able to accomplish her goals under such a system. Here's the breaking point, then, and the tension of what the government might do to Leila and her family is amplified even more by the fact that Maryam is caught up, as well as being held directly responsible for her athlete's actions, in this, too. Nothing she says to Leila seems able to change the fighter's mind, because she's stubborn and clearly perceives her coach as a tool in the system trying to stop her.

The filmmakers, though, see each woman for who she is, for what she wants, and as equal victims of oppression, and that turns Tatami into an especially difficult and suspenseful sort of moral thriller. We can see and understand both perspectives being presented in this story, and for all of the persecution being threatened and enacted as the plot unfolds, the fact that neither choice seems like right one or the wrong one reflects a greater injustice. These women shouldn't have to make this kind of choice in the first place.

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