'I Feel Compelled To Reassemble Forbidden And Forgotten Images In My Films' | Iranian Filmmaker Nahid Hassanzadeh

🌠Before receiving my degree in midwifery from Tehran University, I was working as an intern in the underprivileged places of Southern Tehran. During my internship, I witnessed how criminally the regime has weaponised women’s access to basic reproductive healthcare in Iran. In this way, the Islamic Republic has continued to exploit women’s bodies as a tool to advance its repressive political agenda. 

While working as a midwife at the hospitals, I was able to interact closely with my female patients who were suffering from severe gynaecological problems. In most cases, the major reason behind such deterioration was the utter ignorance and sexual unawareness among their partners. All these experiences throughout my life have spontaneously made their way into my films. In fact, the idea of making Another Time🧸 came from my direct interactions with women and young girls at the hospital. Observing their lives and hardships has been the main source of inspiration for developing the characters and storyline of my films.

⛎After receiving my degree in midwifery, I went on to study filmmaking at the Iranian Young Cinema Society of Tehran, where I got myself exposed to Japanese, Russian and European cinema. While studying there, I gradually realised that my true passion resided in filmmaking. For me, it was Andrei Tarkovsky’s filmmaking ideas that profoundly influenced and shaped my artistic inner eye. Actually, his impact goes even beyond filmmaking, as his teachings have pushed me to reflect deeply, both within myself and in relation to my surroundings. From Tarkovsky, I’ve learned the art of connecting with the present moment and contemplating the mysterious secrets hidden within fleeting moments. Also, I must mention Iranian feminist poet Forough Farrokhzad’s huge influence on my works. Her poetry and cinema left an indelible mark on my life.

To be honest, being a woman in Iran and aspiring to make a film is a significant challenge in itself. Securing funding and finding a producer are both extremely difficult tasks. Besides, one has to constantly deal with threats and obstacles. This is where the real struggle begins.
It's essential to clarify that not all women filmmakers are prohibited from making films as some individuals are affiliated with the government and are often referred to as puppet filmmakers. They receive substantial support and resources for their projects. However, in my case, I chose to work independently, without relying on any government grants or assistance as it was more important for me to freely express my art and maintain my individuality.
As of now, I've managed to produce two films almost entirely on my own. I took on multiple roles—writing screenplays, directing, creating costumes and even finding distributors, all without any external support. Budget constraints are also a major problem in this path, which is why maximum scenes in my films are shot in an indoor setup.
Despite all the struggles, the most disheartening part is that even after overcoming numerous obstacles, obtaining permission to screen my films becomes a further burden. The pain and frustration of such a situation are beyond imagination. I still remember my initial script for Another Time🀅didn't get approval from the government. As a result, the lead actor and the producer backed out from the project, saying they were not convinced about my ability to make a film since it was my first one.

We are probably the last generation of post-revolutionary Iranians who have witnessed the country’s deterioration in front of their eyes. After the Islamic Revolution in 1979, things started changing rapidly, and the reign of political Islam began to demolish our culture, art, history, and, most importantly, the memories associated with them. So, as Milan Kundera once wrote, it’s the struggle of memory against forgetting. In the movie Silent Glory😼, one may notice the significant presence of a dog. In today’s Iran, having a dog is considered haram, and it’s not allowed to live with one in your house. However, before the Islamic Revolution, living with dogs was perfectly normal. I feel compelled to reassemble all these forbidden and forgotten images in my films that were once an integral part of our history. By doing so, I aim to preserve and reclaim the aspects of our culture that have been suppressed and overlooked. It’s important to remember our past and cherish our heritage, even in the face of adversity.

The male gaze has become so deeply ingrained in the laws and culture of this country that it often appears natural. However, the presence of patriarchal power and the suppression of femininity have led to the destruction of peace and diversity in Iran over the past 40 years. The prevailing misogyny and patriarchy have stifled creativity and innovation across all fields.
𝕴If I talk about the women filmmakers, it must be acknowledged that many of them rely on government financial aid or seek assistance from male consultants to fund their films. Unfortunately, these consultants often hold traditional patriarchal views and are anti-feminist. Consequently, a significant number of these films end up propagating patriarchal and anti-woman ideologies that serve the regime's propaganda. In some cases, if a filmmaker attempts to challenge the norm, they may portray women as victims of circumstances who remain silent or sacrifice their desires for the sake of love and family, aligning with the government's desires. In Iranian cinema, portraying a rebellious woman is considered a red line that many filmmakers are unwilling to cross. They fear breaking these forbidden boundaries and risking their personal interests and positions. As a result, the potential for showcasing more diverse and empowering portrayals of women in their films remains limited.

𒊎Artists cannot be silenced. The more they try to silence our voices, the more we come up with new ideas and expressions—although such manifestation of creative expressions often depends upon the circumstances of the artist himself. For some, it may open up new paths, while for others, it can be nothing but torture. For example, let's consider the portrayal of love in Iranian films. Even today, it is still quite problematic for the actors to tell each other, “I love you” on camera. This is why, every time we attempt to shoot or write a ‘love scene’, we often end up killing the true essence of love itself. Since physical intimacy cannot be openly depicted, filmmakers in Iran are compelled to rely on surreal and rhetorical techniques, where everything is portrayed through dialogue and visual allegories. However, creative solutions like this have become repetitive and ineffective over the years. I, personally, do not go for them.

If we look back at history, the compulsory hijab in Iran was legalised in 1983, marking the beginning of a series of oppressive laws that reduced women to second-class citizens. The current judicial system in Iran devalues a woman's fundamental rights, treating them as half of a man, and exhibits a troubling disparity in the punishment for crimes against women compared to those against men. Furthermore, since the 1979 revolution, Iranian women have been barred from holding prominent positions like judgeships or ruling positions within the government, effectively marginalising them. These are just a few examples of the many restrictive laws imposed by the Islamic regime to subjugate women.
ౠThe Islamic Republic appears to view women solely as instruments for childbearing and child-rearing. Such abhorrent ideology even gets heavily promoted on national television, with substantial funding dedicated to its propagation. Over time, the hijab has tragically become a tool wielded by the regime to suppress women and crush any notions of defiance or independence among them. This is why the women of Iran have declared a counter-war against the regime by burning their headscarves and cutting off their hair.Over the past 43 years, numerous protests have taken place in Iran, but the regime has never faced such a militant wave of rebellion as it has in recent times. The Mullahs have now realised that their end is near, which is why they are making every effort to silence our voices. However, this will not succeed, as the rebellion has escalated beyond their control.

🌌Whether it’s Mahsa Amini or Ahoo Daryaei, the execution and abduction of women are still going on. On average, more than two Iranians are executed or imprisoned each day by the Islamic Republic for defying the country’s forced dress code. Can you imagine living in a country where women aren’t even allowed to sing or dance outside their houses? So, the revolution had been burning inside all of us for a long time— Mahsa’s death turned it into an unstoppable wildfire. Following Mahsa’s death, the Iranian women have become increasingly fearless, organised, determined and desperate for freedom. The morality police are no longer a fear mechanism. No matter what they do, people are no longer afraid of this government.

𓄧The shooting of my third film has been completed. Currently, I'm engaged in the post-production process. I hope to finish it by 2025.