Original subtitles

Life is perhaps a rope with which a man hangs himself from a branch

Life is perhaps a child returning home from school

Or the absent gaze of a passerby who takes off his hat to another passerby

With a meaningless smile and a good morning

Life is perhaps that enclosed moment when my gaze

destroys itself in the pupil of your eyes

And it is in the feeling which I put into the moon's impression

and the night's perception.

In a room as big as loneliness my heart, which is as big as love

Looks at the simple pretexts of its happiness

At the beautiful decay of flowers in the vase

At the sapling you planted in our garden

And the song of canaries which sing to the size of a window

Ah! This is my lot

My lot is a sky taken away at the drop of a curtain

Your eyes are very beautiful.

Don't you want a lift?

I can be your taxi driver. You can pay me the fare.

We don't want to go to the Spring of Ali now.

Goodbye.

Is it okay to film here?

Yes.

You said you want to make a film based on your PhD research

- that centres around the cinema of Iran. - Yes.

Where do we begin?

When I first came to Tehran, it felt like I had been there before.

As I looked out at the streets from the crowded morning bus

I was overcome by a strange dejavu.

The alleys and the women surrounding me seemed familiar.

I didn't know how to speak a word in Farsi

but could feel the verses of poetry and scenes from Iranian cinema

that inspired my journey, had suddenly come to life.

I felt like a spectator marvelling at the film unfolding before my eyes.

Miss, are you filming me?

About ten years ago, I remember being in a dark room

with other young and agitated students

who had joined the cinema course for many reasons.

I did not have a reason then. I was 21.

The films that we were to watch shortly, changed everything.

Some of the first Iranian films shown to us during our Film Studies classes

were those by Mohsen Makhmalbaf, Abbas Kiarostami and Jafar Panahi.

This cinema and the simultaneous readings of the poetry of Forough Farrokhzad,

a rebel poet and filmmaker from the '60s,

broke the image of Iran that reached us through conventional news and media.

These films spoke of hope and poeticism

despite being made under an obsessive, totalitarian regime.

The film The House is Black faced a lot of censorship in its time.

Even before the revolution, some special institutions believed that

The House is Black was a metaphor for Iranian society.

'The House' was a direct reference to Iran

and 'The House is Black' referred to Iranians living in dark times.

In my opinion, even at that time,

the film was not presented to Iranians appropriately.

A film that won awards out of Iran, in Iran...

Was prohibited.

Was not prohibited, but did not receive the attention it deserved.

In Iran, even if you have a little sense of poetry

Forough will be the first person you'll know.

Because Forough voices the feelings of an Iranian woman.

Not just an Iranian woman

but women from any part of the earth can connect with her feelings,

her language and expressions.

Just like how Forough attracted you even in India

and here you are now, following her traces even to her grave.

Where did this hope emanate from?

How could such life affirming stories of beauty

emerge from the claustrophobia of censorship?

I wanted to learn.

Fuelled by passion, I let myself be taken to the land of unheard stories

on the wings of cinema.

- Hello. - How are you doing?

Very well, thank you.

- I have a guest - Hello, I'll film with your permission.

- What is your name? - Sreemoyee

She has come from India. She is researching Iranian cinema.

I thought I'd make her buy some glasses here.

I had called to say your glasses are ready.

- What song were you singing? - Soltane Ghalbha.

- Why don't you sing it? - What, now?

Yes.

You are the king of my heart...

What's the next line? Breaking the... What was it?

- Don't you know the line? - Yes, I do.

- What are you doing? - So your voice doesn't go out.

- Will you film me? - Why don't you sing and film together?

The heart says it wants to leave

The heart also says it wants to stay

The heart cannot do without you

It doesn't know what to do without you

Before love, so beautiful

The world seems so tiny

I wander everywhere with your memory

So I keep you within

You, the king of my heart

Have broken all the doors to reach the soul

You pledged to be my lover

You reside within me

Okay, that's enough.

It's beautiful, but stop or else people will gather at the door.

Seen what a voice she has?

What's wrong if people gather here?

- Nothing. - Then?

In Iran it's forbidden.

You're afraid!

No, because no one would buy glasses from him anymore,

they'll think you are singing to earn money.

Thank you. Goodbye. Let's go.

I was learning Farsi more through the songs I heard than the language classes I took.

While music instantly got me closer to everyone,

it seemed to be a privilege I had only as an outsider.

Women could not publicly sing in Iran.

Everyone I met asked me to sing Persian songs

as though desiring to fill the absence of a feminine voice.

Is this a good place to film?

It's lovely here.

He knows I want to talk about sexuality...

and eroticism... so he starts his work.

He is censoring you.

I think he's been sent by the Ministry of Islamic Guidance...

to repair the house next door.

Every time I want to talk, they tell them to turn the drill on.

Okay then...

Let's talk about religion.

Look, it's off!

We are talking about religion now...

Silence!

They are silent.

As I was saying...

One of the reasons why...

people consider some of my films erotic...

is because I come from a religious background.

I grew up in a religious family.

In religious families...

like you see in Iranian cinema, the body is never seen.

The body is covered.

The mother would not only cover herself, but also her daughter.

The absence of the body is of utmost importance.

For this reason...

For this reason, many consider a lady wearing a chador sexier.

Look! Talk about sex appeal has made them start again.

I want to talk about hijab... look, they are silent.

Let's talk about hijab, and the chador...

Look, there is no noise.

They stopped when we talked about the chador.

I'm afraid if I again start talking about...

how the chador or hijab could make a woman erotic...

they will start making noise again.

See!

Let's skip the questions...

and drink tea.

Let's have tea until they stop.

Censorship in Iran cannot be escaped from.

Censorship is not just in the hands of the Government or the Ministry of Guidance.

We keep censoring ourselves all the time.

Sometimes knowingly, sometimes unknowingly.

Unveiled, Forough openly spoke about her desires in this patriarchal society.

Not everyone was impressed with her audacity to express herself as a lover.

Her only crime was that she chose to write as a woman, not a man.

She wanted others to realise these feelings came from the depths of feminine existence.

She wanted to write about the desires of a woman stemming from love.

There was nothing masculine about them.

From the very first day, Forough made me feel like a woman.

This feeling grew deeper in me.

I was studying Persian literature at that time.

It led me to write my thesis on the role of women in literature and Iranian cinema.

I found that Forough is the point at which our cinema and poetry meet

In our discussions of poetry and Iranian cinema, Forough couldn't be left behind.

Do you know Forough?

Yes.

- Who is Forough? - Gohar's daughter.

No, the one I mean is a poet.

I'll read one of her poems while you milk the cow...

to pass the time.

- You're not answering. - Go on.

It goes like this:

"In my night so brief, alas

"The wind has a rendezvous with the leaves of the trees"

Do you know what a rendezvous is?

A date.

There it is.

You see the last house? That's Kiarostami's house

- This one? - Yes.

Ali, do you think we can go in?

There is a bell, but I'm not sure it's a good idea.

I had walked up to Kiarostami's house one afternoon, hoping to meet him.

Instead, I slid a note under his door.

He died a week later.

That was the closest I could get to him.

Except through the memories recounted by his friends.

That's the album of photos.

- You want to see it? - Yeah.

One of the first friends I made in Iran was Farhad.

He had acted in two of Kiarostami's films.

We spent endless afternoons discussing cinema,

Kiarostami and stories of a generation that witnessed had the revolution.

This is Ansari. This is Keshabarz and me.

Cinema happened to him by chance one day

when he caught Kiarostami staring at him at a party.

Soon he was called for an audition for And Life Goes On.

There was a scene where I converse with my son while driving.

Kiarostami had given us some lines and asked us to improvise.

After a while I realised the boy was tired and I thought it's better to sing.

An Italian song came to mind. I sang it.

A village means not being left alone

Having friends, having wine, having coffee

I have come home from the city, I recognise the streets

With the remaining holes, the disappearing houses

That once belonged to me

Beyond the yellow hills there is a sea

A sea of stubble that never seems to cease

I don't want the sea anymore I've seen enough

I prefer a ramp and a drink in silence

The great silence that is your virtue

When the film was ready they took it for review to the censor committee.

One among them heading the committee was a blind man.

Kiarostami told us that the person deciding the fate of film was blind.

He heard the song and asked, "Why is he singing an Italian song?"

He said, " No. Remove this. The film can be passed without this part."

When I heard this, I was very disappointed.

I couldn't understand what problem they had with this beautiful song.

Such a pity it had to be removed.

Later I told him to share the song with me so I could have it.

He said, he burnt it.

It's enough for today.

Let's go down to eat soup.

It's very delicious.

I remember I was staying in a dormitory back then.

I was given a bed, but the room had no window.

Farhad and his wife Taraneh insisted that I stayed with them in their house.

This is Forough Farrokhzad's document that says she was in our house.

And the tenant, Forough oz-Zaman Farrokhzad Eraqi...

daughter of Mohammad with ID number 678...

It was Forough who brought me to Iran.

I could feel her presence from the very beginning.

As Farhad showed me her rent document

I came to know she lived in the very house I was staying in then.

The feeling hadn't sunk in yet.

You see, none of this was planned.

Sheer chance brought me so close to her.

I don't think I can fully express the feeling in words.

1339, according to Iranian calender.

Eighteen years before the revolution.

Is it okay if I film?

- I want to post it live, is it okay? - You mean live on instagram?

Yes, thank you very much.

Play on. Let's see what words of love have to say.

Tie it well.

- Climb up! - He wants me to climb up!

- Hold this branch so I can climb up. - Wait a second.

Hurry!

Give it to me.

You don't know what it is like to have an athlete's body.

Can you lift 18 kilos with only one hand?

Yes. More than that.

The branch is like a bow and you'll be thrown like an arrow.

No way!

All my friend Majdy wanted was to play his music in peace

but once again the accidental censors of the city got in our way.

As we left Forough's grave, we saw black flags hanging in the streets

marking the death anniversary of the Sixth Imam.

The air felt heavy as I prepared to meet Panahi that afternoon.

My early films featured children but were not made for children.

I tried to tell the problems of adults through them.

I started in that way, I made White Balloon and it worked well

but soon after the film Mirror , I stopped working with children

and started making films the way I wanted to.

Soon I made The Circle. There after my problems began.

They banned The Circle, and didn't allow me to show it in Iran.

They treated it harshly.

After that all my films were banned from Iran.

You know, even after all this trouble...

I never considered myself to be a political person

I thought of myself as an artist

but I couldn't ignore the political situation in my country.

I mean when three million people come out to protest in the streets

I can't close my eyes and say it's not my problem.

It becomes my problem even if I am not a political person

I must react to it.

What is a political cinema?

In Iran, political cinema is considered propaganda.

It tells you which side is better or which person is better

on the basis of...

The court sentence imposed on me stated I couldn't make films for 20 years

or write scripts, or leave the country, or give interviews.

In addition to that I'd have to go to jail for 6 years.

But because of the huge support I received from around the world

they could not keep me in prison for long.

I was told, "They gave you such a harsh sentence so you are forced to escape.

"What will you do?"

I thought why should I escape? This is my country. I like my country.

I don't want to lose my country and wander around the world for no reason.

They thought I'd run away or stay here unable to work

and everything would be finished.

When you can't make films, you get depressed.

For a year I sank into depression.

- What's afsordegi? - To fall sick.

The situation led me to the verge of suicide.

I thought, "Without work, what's the meaning of my life?"

I remember one night I went to the sea to kill myself

but the heavy waves of the sea rejected me.

The moment I reached the sea, the one you see in my film...

- In Closed Curtain. - Yes.

I went deep inside for about two or three kilometers

but rushed out crying.

That night I decided no matter what happens,

I will find a way out to make films.

Kiss me

Kiss me

For one last time

Farewell, may God keep you safe

For I am going toward my destiny

Ah Sree!

You missed it.

Do you want see this?

What is happening?

It was the World Cup of 2018 and Iran was playing against Spain that night.

My friends wanted to watch the match at a mall nearby with everyone else.

The brewing excitement everywhere

brought alive scenes from the film Panahi had made years ago

on how Iranian women were banned from watching football matches with men in stadiums.

That night, before my eyes

I saw malls, cinema halls, cafes

and the streets of Tehran, transform into live stadiums

where women stole their moment of freedom, alongside men.

I came here seeking the stories of filmmakers

but cinema opened a window through which I entered an unexpected world.

- Don't you want a selfie with me? - Absolutely!

Come let's take a selfie together. We must both have it.

- Where did you get your nose operation from? - From Ahvaz.

Will it be prettier now?

- Only God can tell. - Did you feel pain?

Yes, a lot.

Searching for birds?

As I got older some people started telling me to have my nose operated on.

They said that would make me look beautiful.

Sometimes in the bus or the metro

a woman would push a card into my hand saying,

"This surgeon fixed my nose, you must go to him too!"

In the beginning I would say, "I don't need a doctor!"

Later it became a joke and I played along saying, "Thank you very much...

"I was indeed looking for a doctor."

That's cute.

Everyone likes it to be a certain kind. I didn't want it to be obvious.

We see so many operated noses, it's easy to tell which is natural and which is not.

A lot of people like to have a nose like Barbie, upturned and small.

I didn't want mine to be like that.

A friend once told me Iran is the Mecca of nose jobs.

In a world where women's bodies are erased,

sculpting a flawless face seemed to be the path to perfect beauty.

There were times I wished I had a more normal nose

in the way the society defines it

so I would not have to hear so many comments about it.

Not to be more beautiful...

that's not important to me...

but at times I wish there were less comments.

Although those comments don't bother me anymore...

they could stop altogether. People should stop making these... comments.

It would have been better that way. It would have been easier.

Do you want to preserve these bones for life?

Yes, no harm in that.

By coincidence, the country that produces the storing solutions for the bones is India.

It says so on this bottle: NaProd manufacturers, India.

Wait, wait let me see it.

What's written there?

It says, "Chastity and hijab are the call of nature...

"and it brings the society to excellence."

The issue is between hijab and mahjoub or modesty.

We believe a person must be modest... like you.

- Self is... - More important than hijab?

Hijab should be within yourself.

Do you mean hijab is within oneself?

- Bravo! - It's an inner state of being.

What does hijab being an inner state of being mean to you?

Hijab in the self signifies what thought?

Means one's desires must be controlled from within.

Covering doesn't make you modest

but controlling your desires does.

Covering externally without an inner understanding makes no sense.

Goodbye! Take care.

What?

Why is your scarf not on your head?

- God! You know what he said? - Yes I know

He is a kid and a hijab police.

Fall down!

She's got a good shot.

Even before I began learning Persian I knew the word 'enghelab'.

In Urdu we called it 'inquilaab', or revolution.

The Enghelab street in Tehran

was a place where one could find uncensored copies of books

and posters of rebels from all across the globe.

I found my copy of Forough's verses here.

Yet, each corner was heavily guarded by both uniformed and plainclothes policemen

who circled the streets, penalising women for improper dress code.

- Tell me what is my crime? - Disturbance of order.

Disturbing the order?

Stop applauding, or you will regret it.

What about human rights?

He broke her leg.

In my opinion what they did was very brave.

I mean, I'm not afraid to take my scarf off in the street

and walk in places where there is no police

but doing it in Enghelab street, the busiest street in Iran, is surprising.

You know very well what a huge risk you are taking.

They will definitely arrest you, just like they arrested many.

But it was full of hope.

What happened to these girls, where are they now?

Most of them got arrested. I think about thirty of them.

Many escaped the police.

You know both bans are like each other. This law that enforces the hijab

and Reza Shah's ban of hijab are the same

as both disrespect the choice of the people.

Because it's all about our choices.

My mother is a person who believes in the hijab

and yet she doesn't agree with mandatory hijab.

Because it is an insult to her choice.

In 2010 around ten agents invaded my house and my office simultaneously.

They searched my belongings and seized my files.

They gave me a notice to introduce myself to prison within three days.

After three days I went to Evin prison and that caused my arrest.

During the time I worked as a lawyer...

I would often see imprisoned women brought to the court for trial in a chador.

Seeing that was offensive for me.

Obviously, I respect my fellow compatriots who choose to wear a chador

but the imposition of the compulsory chador on women inmates, bothered me.

When I was imprisoned later, I had refused the chador.

I told them, "I don't use a chador." They said, "You have to. It's the uniform here."

I protested saying I wasn't obligated to wear the chador.

From then my protest against compulsory chador in prison began.

It took us about a year and a half till...

we were no longer obligated to wear chador inside the prison.

Pickle?

I love cooking but I really love Iranian food and I want to learn how to make it.

I couldn't meet Nasrin again.

She was sentenced to 38 years of prison

for defending the rights of the girls who were arrested for raising their scarves.

Listen everyone...

The world must hear us!

From somewhere, the cry of a woman filled the street.

Standing on a bridge, she was howling in agony.

The signal had turned red,

lines of cars halted in the street below her.

Shameless!

We have martyred our young sons to support you.

Today even Iraqis are protesting against the Islamic Republic.

Shame on you!

As the car moved on, I looked at the walls of Tehran,

decorated with images of dead sons, martyred in war

and grieving mothers.

- Greetings! - To you too.

This place is like a dry tree.

You water it every day with the hope it will turn green...

like the film of Tarkovsky...

the character watered the dried plant with the belief it would turn green...

he thought his belief would turn it green.

But now...

this withered tree has no hope of turning green,

it is better we water...

a live plant which will grow...

in a different place.

Did I speak too much about hopelessness?

- Should we read another verse? - Yes.

"When my trust was suspended from the fragile thread of justice

"And in the whole city they were chopping up my heart's lanterns

"When they would blindfold my innocent eyes

"With the dark handkerchief of Law

"And from my anxious temples of desire fountains of blood would squirt out

"When my life had become nothing

"Nothing but the tick-tock of a clock

"I discovered I must, must, must love insanely"

On the first day of new year in 2016

I sat by the banks of the river Zayandehrood in Esfehan

and took this photograph.

I penned a few lines right after.

I will bring you back the wind

A handful in my pockets, traces in my cheeks

A gust of chill, entrapped in a chador

And a shiver, burning the skin with a memory

I will bring you back that memory

When I visited the same spot three years later

the river had dried up.

People visited the Siosepol bridge

in memory of the once bustling river.

A lot of anger and sorrow filled the air,

when one day, as if by miracle, it started snowing.

This tree is breaking under the load of the snow.

I want to go and save it.

It's a Cedar tree. It should not break under the snow.

Hey I am happy. I am happy because I only live one day.

It's really beautiful.

Hello! How have you been?

Don't kiss me in front of the guard!

Who are you, my lady?

- Aida Mohammadkhani - Who is Aida Mohammadkhani?

The actress in The White Balloon!

Instead of balloon she says kite. Go take a seat.

Take a seat.

How did they let you in?

You are famous, they let you in everywhere.

Look at you complaining so much already!

I really don't remember...

Do you remember how you cried?

I only remember one scene where I cried.

Everytime I had to cry,

it was decided that Mr. Panahi would kneel down on the floor to my level

and look into my eyes...

you also held my arms...

then with a special feeling, he suggested me to cry and I would really cry!

It was unbelievable!

Can you do it now too?

Please please.

- I don't think so... - It's difficult.

- Let's test it once. - It stresses me out. No.

I don't think I can...

See, you're helping her for her film and PhD project.

- It will benefit her research. - I'll try, but I'm not sure I can.

I didn't give any interview in the last two years.

But I agreed since it's for her research project.

It's farfetched to think I can still even do it after twenty one years.

Oh God...

I think I could still be a good actress with Mr. Panahi.

I don't know how this happens to me every time with Mr. Panahi.

Dear Maryam, open your eyes

Call out my name

The morning is here

The sun has risen

It's time to step out to the greens

Oh, lovely Maryam

Dear Maryam, open your eyes

Look at me

Let's step out of our houses

The heart does not know how to deal with grief

Oh, lovely Maryam

Look! It's morning again...

Hold it or there'll be an accident!

I'm still awake!

I wish I was asleep

So I could dream of you

The seeds of this sorrow

Are sprouting within my heart

One by one

The heart does not know how to deal with this grief

Oh, lovely Maryam

Hello. How are you?

- What is this? - Album

Hello Mina, hope you are well.

Come, please take a seat.

Shall I go in first?

I hope you didn't wait too long.

I just got here.

This is our album of memories.

Let's talk about this, it's an important memory. Remember this lady?

- Not sure. - She was your nurse.

Yes, you are right.

Do you want to share what happened with her?

Not at all, forget about it! This shouldn't be in the film!

Come on! Rest assured that lady won't watch this film.

Film? Are you filming us now?

She wasn't supposed to film us!

I'm not going to act in this film! I didn't agree on this! Not at all!

I'm not going to act, no way!

She's angry.

I'm not going to act in this film. Get up, let's leave Aida.

- Mirror by Jafar Panahi!! - Absolutely, Perfect!

- She got it. - Bravo!

You girls are so saucy!

This is the photo of Mina with Jafar Panahi that I'll forever be jealous of.

She's looks so smart behind the camera and Panahi looks at her.

I don't have a similar photograph with him.

This is Mina with the prosthetic cast over hand.

This is the place where Jafar Panahi asked me to sit and cry.

- On these stairs. - Yes, the scene was filmed here.

What memories!

We had lots of stress at work today

but I finished everything in time so that I could come here.

No wonder you're in formals. You were so jealous because I wore bright colours.

I wore it because Sreemoyee likes this dress.

She asked me to wear this, so I happily agreed.

It's so evident where you've come from by your clothes.

We've been protesting for a month so they would relax restrictions on our clothes.

Had this been earlier, I'd have to come in formal Islamic uniform.

- It's a lot better now. - It's great that they allowed this.

Yes, but after a month of protesting!

- You mean all the women? - Yes, fifteen of us got together

and questioned why men had no uniforms but we had to wear them,

why they were exempt from wearing coats but we had to wear the scarfs.

We gave it our best, and finally the rule was scrapped.

How was it before that?

It was traditional, formal uniforms for us.

The same uniform for everyone. We looked exactly like the other.

The same coats, pants and the formal headscarf.

We wore that for two years,

and then finally we began protesting so much that they finally had to give in.

- Congratulations! - We won this battle!

Forough died in a car accident fifty three years ago.

She was 32.

On her death anniversary, we decided to get her flowers and sit by her side.

It was the day before Valentine's Day.

Street vendors stopped our car with teddy bears

and heart shaped balloons.

I was only looking for some flowers.

At her grave, someone was trying to light a candle

which was being blown off by the winds.

The sound of the evergreen trees swishing madly

suddenly resembled the sound of waves breaking into a shore.

It felt like she was around.

Go forward.

Hossein move toward the sun.

In my opinion, self-censoring is a disability.

It makes you accept the conditions that you're subjected to.

They'll ask you to live here.

As a kid I'd crawl and play with the sand.

When I grew taller, I'd have to bend this way.

Meaning I'd have to adapt according to the limitations they've deemed fit for me.

But if you just move out just a little bit, you'd reach the sea.

- Where do you have to go after this? - Siateer.

But I could get off at a metro or bus station nearby.

You won't get any metro or bus stop here.

Where is this place?

This is...

That's Evin.

This building is Hotel Evin but the Evin prison is behind it.

They kept me there for a while.

I have often wondered why I sing a lot more in Iran

and why my hands keep reaching out for my falling scarf.

On my last day in the city I picked up a dried leaf from the street

to imprint the memory of the majestic Chenar trees lining Tehran.

A lot remains unfinished.

On my way back home

my mind was flooded with images of faces known and unknown.

Yet the memory of an afternoon, spent among school girls, lingered on.

I am bringing home that memory.

Fix your scarves. Everyone!

No one is coming to woo you here.

When it's time for your marriage, I'll tell you how to show yourself.

She's going to sing a song by Aref for you girls.

Be quiet and please don't sing along.

The heart says it wants to leave

The heart also says it wants to stay

The heart cannot do without you

It doesn't know what to do without you

Before love, so beautiful

The world seems so tiny

I wander everywhere with your memory

So I keep you within

You, the king of my heart

Have broken all the doors to reach the soul

You tied a knot of companionship to be my lover

You reside within me

Even if you're far away from me

I will not be with another

My heart is full with dreams and desire

O beautiful friend

Calm down, calm down.