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Mohamad Ali Elyasmehr, Majid Panahi, and Hadis Pakbaten in ‘It Was Just an Accident’ – Photo courtesy of Neon

Inside Iranian Cinema’s Defiant Evolution

Iranian filmmaker Jafar Panahi is nominated for two Golden Globes this year, as director and writer of It Was Just an Accident. The film itself is nominated for Best Drama as well as Best Non-English-Language film, though it was officially submitted by France. In the past, Golden Globes nominations have included Iranian films in its Non-English-Language category, such as Asghar Farhadi’s A Hero (2022), The Salesman (2017), The Past (2014) and A Separation (2012). The tallies are a tribute to the two filmmakers, but just a sample of Iran’s filmmaking, as the country has a long and varied history with cinema.

Storytelling has long been an integral part of Iranian culture. Epic tales like the Shahnameh — one of the longest poems ever written, composed by Persian poet Ferdowsi — date back over a thousand years. Fast forward to the advent of cinema, and Iranian creatives have utilized the medium to capture both the country’s beauty and culture as well as its political and social shifts — even as they grappled with challenges such as economic sanctions abroad or strict censorship rules from within. What has resulted is a unique cinematic language crafted by Iranians — with films often forged under pressure, and the storytellers behind them relying on resilience as well as creativity to share their stories with the world.

The first significant wave of filmmaking came with Iran’s mid-century era of Filmfarsi. Pre-revolutionary films often featured melodrama and thrillers that were heavily influenced by Bollywood and Hollywood, and while entertaining for audiences, were lackluster to critics and did not authentically reflect Iranians. Then in the late 1960s, a wave of filmmakers broke through with more original, artistic and even political storytelling — such as Dariush Mehrjui’s The Cow and Bahram Bayzai’s Downpour. Since the Iranian Revolution in 1979, the film industry has faced intense censorship. Yet Iranian filmmakers have continued to adapt rather than retreat.

As Iranian director Kourosh Ahari explained to us, such pressure has resulted in resilient and thought-provoking movies.

“We’re arguably living through one of the most difficult periods of Iran’s modern history, with sanctions and censorship and immense pressure on daily life,” says Ahari. “So naturally, that reality has influenced the stories being told. It has forced Iranian filmmakers to become resourceful. And those constraints push storytelling towards metaphors, symbolism and intimacy, which have really shaped the aesthetic people now associate with Iranian cinema.”

In recent decades, Iran has become globally recognized for its distinct cinematic tone and style, and several filmmakers have been rewarded for using movies as a creative form of resistance.

In 1998, Majid Majidi’s Children of Heaven became the first Iranian film to be nominated for an Academy Award for foreign-language film. Over a decade later, Farhadi earned an Oscar win for the country with 2012’s A Separation. This year, It Was Just An Accident won Cannes’ top prize, the Palme d’Or and the film was a triple winner at the Gotham Awards.

Despite these honors for Iranian cinema, Panahi has pointed out there is also fallout from such restrictions on Iranian creatives. Speaking with Martin Scorsese at the New York Film Festival this fall, the director was asked what the future of Iranian cinema looks like, given the exodus of many great auteurs.

“It was really difficult to bear, especially the first decade after the revolution. … All the backbones of Iranian filmmaking are out. I really miss all those films that they could have made in Iran and they never did,” Panahi answered, adding he plans to continue making films in Iran. “I don’t have the courage and I don’t have the ability to leave Iran and stay out of Iran. I have stayed there, and I’m going to work there.”

Panahi noted though that “there are a lot of young filmmakers who are coming and they’re making the best films of Iranian cinema in the same style that we are making film. They are not going to accept censorship whatsoever.”

To perhaps further answer Scorsese’s question, the future of Iranian cinema is not just who is willing to make films, but what stories will these films explore.

Recent Iranian cinema has primarily lived within the genres of drama and tragedy rather than lighter fare such as comedy or romance — often reflecting tensions faced by its people both at home and abroad, such as U.S. sanctions hurting the economy or censorship hindering productions.

Ahari finds this to be a trend not just because of what Iranians are experiencing at home, but also because of what international audiences are inclined to watch — and reward. “Drama and tragedy often travel most easily in international festivals, especially from regions the West already associates with struggle and political tension. I think over time, this created an expectation of Iranian cinema that it’s supposed to look like that. And the films that fit that image tend to receive more recognition,” Ahari says.

“That doesn’t mean Iranian filmmakers are only interested in those genres,” he adds, nodding to his own directorial debut The Night, a psychological horror-thriller starring Shahab Hosseini and Niousha Noor.

There’s also Ali Asgari’s recent film Divine Comedy, where the filmmaker zeroes in on the country’s film censorship and bureaucratic absurdity, but utilizes dark comedy to make a point.

“I felt satire was better for expressing what we’re living, because when you use satire, you show how silly and stupid the rules are. You diminish the system’s power,” Asgari explained to Variety. “And at the same time, satire helps audiences outside Iran connect, because many people aren’t aware of what’s happening. If you present it too seriously, they may not understand it. Humor brings them in.”

Ahari adds that many Iranian creatives, especially the next generation, have a “deep appetite for experimentation” — and it’s taking place with independent projects in Iran as well as Stateside productions. Recent examples include Maryam Keshavarz’s comedy drama The Persian Version, which features a young, bisexual Iranian-American woman who is at odds with her mother, and Sara Zandieh’s romantic comedy A Simple Wedding.

When speaking about her film with The Hollywood Reporter in 2020, Iranian-American director Zandieh noted she wanted to represent Iranians as she knows them — as “fun-loving, kind and adaptable,” adding “our wonderful culture gets buried under politics.” Similarly, Keshavarz has said that The Persian Version was meant to be “our great immigrant story that’s so Persian, that’s a mix of laughing, crying, dancing … and eating!”

Iran is currently facing massive protests, initially sparked in late December over the Iranian currency hitting a new low and since then broadening to protesters chanting for freedom and an end to the regime. These are the largest protests since 2022, when the government faced a similar swell of civil unrest and protests over the death of Jina “Mahsa” Amini, a 22-year-old Iranian Kurdish woman who died while in custody of morality police for allegedly wearing a loose headscarf.

What will come of the recent demonstrations is uncertain, but it is clear there is a recurring rallying cry for change from within Iran’s borders.

Looking ahead, Ahari has hope, believing “the future of cinema is going to be bright in Iran.”

“I fully believe the next generation has the chance to move beyond a single global image of Iranian cinema, and present work that reflects the full depth of what Iran has to offer… My hope is that the next wave of Iranian filmmakers, wherever they are, will not only reflect reality, but also shock and surprise and reintroduce the world to the full depth of Iranian cinema.”