seem less clear: once Marziyehis discoveredalive and well,
halfwayin, most of the tensionis suckedout of the narrative;
the film exchangesthe politicalurgencyof Panahi’searlier
work for a more whimsical,ethnographictone, with the villag-
ers portrayedas superstitiousbut otherwisehospitableand
well-meaning.The only serioussourceof threat is Marziyeh’s
brother(MehdiPanahi),who seemsto exist in a near-permanent
state of rage at his sister’sperceivedimpropriety.To be sure,
his anger is a frighteningreminderof femalepowerlessness
in culturesin whichmale siblingsare often calledupon to
enforcefamilyhonour.^9 But this characteris scarcelya rep-
resentativeof local, let alone broaderstructural,male power;
rather,he is a pathetic,emasculatedfigure,humiliatedby
his motherby being lockedin his room and later pushedout
the front door by his fatherwhen Marziyehreturnshome.
Nonetheless,he is also the characterwho posesthe most im-
mediatethreat to the wellbeingof the womenin the film, and
is responsiblefor3 Faces’ only momentof overt (off-screen)
violence,albeit one that’s playedfor laughs:cracking the
windscreenof the director’scar with a rock.
In the end, the three womenend up together,dancingand
talkingthroughthe night at Shahrzad’shouse,beforeJafari
returnsto Tehranand her life as an actress;we see her and
Marziyehwalkingoff into the distancetogether just before the
creditsroll. There’sno doubt that,
with its critiqueof the patriarchal
constraintsplacedupon women
in Iraniansociety,3 Facesis a film
with explicitlyfeministintent.This
is in keepingwith the preoccupa-
tions of the director’searlier,most
fiercelypoliticalworks:inOffside
(2006),girls attemptingto watcha
soccergame in disguiseare caught
and kept in a holdingpen in the
stadium,only able to followthe
progressof the game throughthe
roars of the crowd,whileThe Circle
(2000),a film made up of vignettesabout variousforms of op-
pressionexperiencedby womenin Iran, concludesin a prison
cell that mirrorsthe hospitalroom in which a baby girl is born
in the openingsequence.
Thoughthe title of his latest film is a referenceto its three
femaleleads,there is, nonetheless,at least one other face
to considerhere: Jafar Panahi’s.Even beforehis arrest,the
directorwas alreadymakingfilms understraitenedcondi-
tions; for instance,in order to gain a permitto shootOffside,
the director‘wrotea fake script under someoneelse’s name
[... and] shot the film in secrecy’,^10 while his first two features,
The WhiteBalloon(1995)andThe Mirror, both revolved
aroundchild protagonistsbecausehe felt that such narra-
tives were ‘less prone to censorship’^11 (to this day,The White
Balloonis his only film not to have been bannedin Iran^12 ). But
what most clearlysets his post-arrestwork apart from his
earlierfilms is that Panahihimselfhas becomea protagonist.^13
This was a clear necessityin the two featuresmade when he
was still underhousearrest,This Is Not a FilmandClosed
Curtain(2013),and the intimateshootingconditionsofTaxi
more or less requiredthat he be in the (literal)driver’sseat; for
3 Faces, on the other hand, Panahiinitiallyconsideredanother
performer for the main male role, but stepped in when thoseplans fell through.^14 Clearly,this is more than a mere exchange
of one face for another;the narrativeof3 Facesremainsat
least partiallyshapedaroundits director’spresence.
Many directorshave chosento appearin their own films,
but there is a distinctionto be made betweenthose who
tend to play discretecharacters(even if they can be read
as thinly veiledversionsof themselves),such as Woody
Allen (as inAnnieHall, 1977) and Lena Dunham(as inTiny
Furniture, 2010),and those who have more explicitlyembed-
ded themselveswithintheir own fictionalnarratives,such as
Lars von Trier (as inEpidemic, 1987) and Nanni Moretti(as in
Dear Diary, 1993).Panahi’spost-arrestfilms very much exist
withinthe secondcategory;indeed,his ongoingpresence
and dependenceon factualelementshelps these more recent
films to functionas a kind of coherentseries, with Panahi-the-
characterservingas its anchoringpoint.
What is curiousaboutthese works,particularlyTaxiand
3 Faces, is the narrativethat existsbeyondthem. In neither,
after all, is Panahi’sspecificlegal situationspelledout, or
his statusas a famousfilm directorexplicitlyinvoked,and
yet one gets the sensethat the audienceis expectedto be
awareof this context.InTaxi, human-rightslawyerand acti-
vist NasrinSotoudehrefers to the fact that she and Panahi
have both previouslyconductedhungerstrikesin prison;
likewise,outsideShahrzad’shouse
in3 Faces,the directorassures
Jafari that he’ll be okay spending
the night in the car: ‘I’m safer here
than anywhereelse.’ Ultimately,
these nods to the director’sreal-life
struggleseem less like attemptsto
createa characterservinga narra-
tive than acts of self-portraiture.
That Panahicontinuesto make
films in spite of his ban, winning
major awardsat internationalfes-
tivals such as Berlinand Cannes
along the way, seemsan uneasy,
unsustainabledynamic.His filmmakingtrajectorysince 2010
has had a rehabilitativequalityto it, as if he is learningto
walk again after major surgery;perhaps,soon, Panahiwill
be able to step fully behindthe cameraagain and wholly
returnto the ambitiousscopeand explicitpoliticalcharge
of his earlierwork – or, equally,perhapsthe Iraniangovern-
ment is merelywaitingfor him to step over an arbitraryline
beforethey close in again.As it stands,the directoris ‘wary
of callingmore attentionto himself’:as per the conditions
of his sentence,he has not taken part in mediainterviews
abouthis films since 2010, and he continuesto shoot in a
clandestinemanner,withoutpermits.^15 As Sotoudeh– who
is herselfin jail again,servinga twelve-yearsentencefor
havingofferedlegal aid to progressiveactivists^16 – says in
Taxiof the oppressivetreatmentof nominally‘free’ political
dissidentsin Iran, ‘Whenyou finally get released, the outside
world becomesa biggercell.’
In the classicUS undergroundworkDavidHolzman’sDiary
(Jim McBride,1967),the titular would-befilmmaker(playedby
LM Kit Carson)shootseverythingthat surroundshim. Aside
from the grainyqualityof the monochromefootagespat out
by his handheld16mmcamera,he has no constraintson what
he can film or what ideas he can communicate; his is as closeWhatmostclearlysets
hispost-arrestworkapart
fromhisearlierfilmsis that
Panahihimselfhasbecome
a protagonist... hisongoing
presenceanddependence
onfactualelementshelps
thesemorerecentfilms
tofunctionasa kind
of coherent series.62 • Metro Magazine 201 | © ATOM