20 | Sight&Sound | May 2020
Absent friend: Mohammad RasoulofIf cinema is slow news, in which events and
stories are examined from a number of angles,
what happens if it cannot keep up with the
new social media platforms, especially when
censorship is so crippling? During protests in
Iran in November 2019 the internet was shut
down across the country. Some videos posted
online by ordinary citizens on reconnection
were stronger and captured the experience of
repression more artfully than any festival film.
Even the filmmakers themselves are bolder when
it comes to social media, speaking directly to
Iranians in a way their films rarely do. At the end
of Panahi’s 3 Faces (2018) the director plays on the
politics of absence by not showing a banned pre-
revolutionary actress. This adds to the film’s sense
of mystery and ambiguity, but anyone checkingPanahi’s ultra-popular Instagram page could find
a far more direct treatment of the subject, as he
has posted multiple videos of banned film stars.
Something that is not seen by an international
audience, and that perhaps contributes to the
success of a film, is shared generously with
Iranians. Using two distinct languages, Panahi
differentiates consciously between his audiences.
This duality is not solely a characteristic of
Iranian cinema. International festivals have
shaped cinema culture not just by choosing
certain sorts of film but in some cases even
deciding how a film should be edited. The original
ending of Rasoulof’s A Man of Integrity (2017) – a
film-within-a-film twist à la Kiarostami – saw it
being rejected by at least two major festivals. After
that ending was cut, so that the work finished
on a bleaker note, it finally appeared at Cannes.
It is essential that Iranian filmmakers continue
to make films regardless of their background, and
it is great that the festivals exist to show them.
But as Iran and its civil movement enter a more
militant phase, the symbolic empty seat of the
director has lost the importance it once had.By Ehsan Khoshbakht
It is a sight that has become familiar at European
film festivals in recent years: an empty seat
reserved for an Iranian director unable to
attend due to legal restrictions. This year’s
empty seat belonged to Mohammad Rasoulof,
the winner of the Golden Bear at the Berlin
Film Festival with There Is No Evil, a standout
in an otherwise disappointing Competition.
Rasoulof entered cinema nearly two decades
ago as a documentary filmmaker with a deep
commitment to social issues. In his fiction films,
he initially leaned towards the metaphorical
(Iron Island, 2005) and the symbolic (The White
Meadows, 2009) until around ten years ago, when
he began making controversial political films,
clandestinely shot or exported – sometimes both.
More visually developed than Rasoulof’s
last two films, There Is No Evil focuses on
capital punishment – Iran’s rate of executions
is second only to China’s. Featuring some
remarkable moments and managing a tricky
reliance upon a ‘surprise’ factor at the end of
each of its four episodes, it is a consideration
of the moral responsibility of those who
become part of the regime’s machinery at all
levels, rather than a contemplation of capital
punishment itself – Rasoulof discerning
that evil is not so banal after all. The story is
relieved and balanced by geographical shifts
(between the green north and dry south) and
changing characters across episodes, some
more psychologically nuanced than others.
Capital punishment, though a taboo subject
in Iran, was also tackled by Asghar Farhadi
in his underseen and essential Beautiful City
(2004), a more cautious tale of clemency. But
whereas Farhadi’s moral perspective in his
recent films has become formulaic, Rasoulof’s
has evolved into something more complex.
On a more general note, it is difficult not to
think that in some instances showing solidarity
with the filmmaker has become an aspect
of the reaction to their films. While awards
and international support may offer a kind of
protection against the artists’ looming sentences,
the tendency to praise the persecuted filmmaker
also serves the notion of ‘political cinema’
badly, allowing the focus on the filmmaker to
displace the weight of political realities and
informed discussion of the matters at hand.
The underlying message, that it is tough to be
a filmmaker in Iran, is a rather obvious one.
The selectiveness of our news outlets – giving
priority to stories seen as more appealing
to audiences – has an influence on not just
politics in general but the politics of festivals
in particular. When it comes to reading and
discussing films which either are or claim to
be political, the Western take, often reflecting
an unfamiliarity with context, resorts to
a simplistic, humanist angle – a case of
mutually beneficial miscommunication.TEHRAN TABOO
Presenting awards to persecuted
Iranian filmmakers may make
Western juries feel good, but
what else does it achieve?Videos posted online by
ordinary citizens captured the
experience of repression more
artfully than any festival film
BACKGROUND
IRANIAN FILMMAKERS ON TRIAL“The criminals of cinema support each other,”
wrote the Iranian hardline newspaper Keyhan,
describing Iranian filmmakers such as Asghar
Farhadi and Bahman Farmanara, who last
year accompanied Mohammad Rasoulof to
the revolutionary court when he appealed
against his conviction for presenting a negative
image of Iran and for not making films showing
the achievements of the revolution.
Once, Jafar Panahi was condemned for a
film he wanted to make but couldn’t, charged
with ‘conspiring’ to make a film about Iran’s
Green Revolution. Now, Rasoulof has beencondemned for not wanting to make the type
of film he is expected to make. The absurdity
of the proceedings reached a climax when
Rasoulof asked the judge whether he had seen
any of his films – the answer was negative.
None of the filmmakers accompanying him
were any better placed: Panahi has been banned
from filmmaking and has a looming prison
sentence; Rakhshan Bani Etemad was recently
threatened with rape on state-run television;
Kianoush Ayari has had two films banned. This
was the second sentence passed on Rasoulof – at
the time of writing, both were still to be enforced.RUSHES GLOBAL SPOTLIGHT