<p>Iranian films, at least the ones that are screened at festivals and stream on OTT platforms, are minimalist in nature. Another common perception about Iranian cinema is that most of the films have a political overture or subversive undercurrent.</p>.<p>This perception could be ill-founded. For instance, <em>Cinema Donkey</em> was a plight of a donkey that gets ignored after its role in the cinema is over. Probably, the method of curation, especially in western film festival circuits, is the reason for such a perception. </p>.<p>That said, it's true that the process of filmmaking in Iran begins and ends with the government. According to Hamid Naficy, who has authored the book <em>A Social History of Iranian Cinema</em>, the first step in making a film is the submission of the plot to the Republic of Iran Broadcasting (IRIB). After the plot is approved, a director is allowed to develop into a script. The shooting can begin once the permit is taken. Government officials even visit the shooting locations to ensure that no alcohol is served and women cover their heads.</p>.<p>Directors who breach the rules are imprisoned. The executive and the judiciary work to ensure that filmmakers are barred from making movies or even giving interviews.</p>.<p>Acclaimed filmmaker Jafar Panahi, who was recently released from jail after he went on a hunger strike over his imprisonment, is known for his prolonged conflict with the Iranian government. Panahi, who was arrested in 2010 — on charges of making propaganda films against the government — was placed under house arrest a year later after.</p>.<p>Despite being banned for 20 years, Panahi banked on rules that circumvented the law to make three movies during his 12 years of isolation.</p>.<p class="CrossHead Rag"><strong>A dissident or an artiste? </strong></p>.<p>Is Panahi a dissident for using his cinematic knowledge to voice his protest? Before his arrest, Panahi’s films were a strong reflection of Iranian society. His films strived to carry the voices of Iranian women (<em>The Circle,</em> ‘Offside’), differences in class (<em>Crimson Gold)</em>, and children (<em>The White Balloon)</em>. </p>.<p>Even those alien to the developments in Iran root for Panahi’s films because he is known for realistic portrayal of people’s hardships. Despite the oppressive nature of the state, none of the characters who represent it is cast in a shade of evil. Thus, Panahi is a filmmaker whose creativity and sense of dissent feed into each other.</p>.<p class="CrossHead Rag">Panahi and his house arrest trilogy</p>.<p>This piece will talk about Panahi’s three films made during his house arrest as <em>No Bears,</em> the fourth movie, isn’t available on the OTT space in India.</p>.<p>His films ‘Taxi’ (2011), <em>Closed Curtain </em>(2013) and <em>This Is Not a Film </em>(2015) have been shot in a docudrama fashion. Each of these films contains a backstory of how the film was made or distributed. For instance, <em>This Is Not A Film</em> was smuggled out of Iran out of a pen drive enclosed in a cake. It went on to win many awards. </p>.<p>These films offer a peek into Panahi’s state of mind during his period of isolation. He discusses capital punishment, creativity and filmmaking in ‘Taxi’. In the film, he plays himself and uses his car like a taxi service. He tries to build his arguments through the voices of a cross-section of Iranian society.</p>.<p>The best part of the film is the conversation between his niece and Panahi. The niece is given the task of making a film by her school teacher. However, the rules for filmmaking have confused the little girl. If the film has to be realistic, how can sordid reality be avoided?</p>.<p>But beyond these aspects, she demands that her uncle gives her a film that is easily distributable, something that the world can see without having to struggle. Most of Panahi’s films have had restrictions for distribution and even been banned.</p>.<p><em>Closed Curtain </em>opens with an author escaping to a vacation home to protect his dog. A government decree announces that dogs are un-Islamic. The author, played by Kambozia Partovi (a co-writer with Panahi on several films), is initially successful in avoiding attention. But one day, his peace is destroyed when a lady and her brother seek refuge in the vacation house.</p>.<p>The lady confronts the author and tries to infuse some openness which seems like a metaphor for courage. She urges him to come out of depression and suicidal thoughts. </p>.<p>The curtains are ripped around the house, unveiling Panahi’s film poster and subsequently, Panahi himself. Shot on location at Panahi’s vacation house, he gives us an insight into how the world looks at Panahi. A person refuses to be in a picture with Panahi as he is not sure of the risk that it carries. </p>.<p><em>This Is Not A Cinema</em> is a snapshot of a day in Panahi’s life during the Iranian new year festival. Alone in his house, he calls his friend and a cameraman and they decide to document his life. </p>.<p>Since Panahi is not allowed to make films, he decides to circumvent the rules by narrating the screenplay of a film that never got the approval from the censorship board. </p>.<p>But he breaks down in the process, lamenting that a narration, however good, can never be as powerful as a film. Comparatively, it is one of the weakest of his films in the ‘house arrest trilogy’ because Panahi uses himself as a delivery mechanism to convey his idea unlike the other two films.</p>.<p><strong>Panahi and the physical stranglehold of cinema</strong></p>.<p>The Russian filmmaker Tarkovsky was harassed by the communist authorities for close to two decades. Some of his negatives were burnt in “accidental fires”. He left Russia in 1979 and ironically was awarded the Lenin prize for his contribution to cinema after his death. </p>.<p>In the past, prints could be destroyed or stopped from being shipped. Today, digital technology has made the distribution of cinema easy and borderless. </p>.<p>Unlike his brilliant mentor Abbas Kiarostami, who made films in Japanese and Italian languages, Panahi has refused to make films outside Iran. Perhaps it is difficult to separate the lover and his muse.</p>.<p>Or maybe the physical stranglehold of cinema continues differently. </p>
<p>Iranian films, at least the ones that are screened at festivals and stream on OTT platforms, are minimalist in nature. Another common perception about Iranian cinema is that most of the films have a political overture or subversive undercurrent.</p>.<p>This perception could be ill-founded. For instance, <em>Cinema Donkey</em> was a plight of a donkey that gets ignored after its role in the cinema is over. Probably, the method of curation, especially in western film festival circuits, is the reason for such a perception. </p>.<p>That said, it's true that the process of filmmaking in Iran begins and ends with the government. According to Hamid Naficy, who has authored the book <em>A Social History of Iranian Cinema</em>, the first step in making a film is the submission of the plot to the Republic of Iran Broadcasting (IRIB). After the plot is approved, a director is allowed to develop into a script. The shooting can begin once the permit is taken. Government officials even visit the shooting locations to ensure that no alcohol is served and women cover their heads.</p>.<p>Directors who breach the rules are imprisoned. The executive and the judiciary work to ensure that filmmakers are barred from making movies or even giving interviews.</p>.<p>Acclaimed filmmaker Jafar Panahi, who was recently released from jail after he went on a hunger strike over his imprisonment, is known for his prolonged conflict with the Iranian government. Panahi, who was arrested in 2010 — on charges of making propaganda films against the government — was placed under house arrest a year later after.</p>.<p>Despite being banned for 20 years, Panahi banked on rules that circumvented the law to make three movies during his 12 years of isolation.</p>.<p class="CrossHead Rag"><strong>A dissident or an artiste? </strong></p>.<p>Is Panahi a dissident for using his cinematic knowledge to voice his protest? Before his arrest, Panahi’s films were a strong reflection of Iranian society. His films strived to carry the voices of Iranian women (<em>The Circle,</em> ‘Offside’), differences in class (<em>Crimson Gold)</em>, and children (<em>The White Balloon)</em>. </p>.<p>Even those alien to the developments in Iran root for Panahi’s films because he is known for realistic portrayal of people’s hardships. Despite the oppressive nature of the state, none of the characters who represent it is cast in a shade of evil. Thus, Panahi is a filmmaker whose creativity and sense of dissent feed into each other.</p>.<p class="CrossHead Rag">Panahi and his house arrest trilogy</p>.<p>This piece will talk about Panahi’s three films made during his house arrest as <em>No Bears,</em> the fourth movie, isn’t available on the OTT space in India.</p>.<p>His films ‘Taxi’ (2011), <em>Closed Curtain </em>(2013) and <em>This Is Not a Film </em>(2015) have been shot in a docudrama fashion. Each of these films contains a backstory of how the film was made or distributed. For instance, <em>This Is Not A Film</em> was smuggled out of Iran out of a pen drive enclosed in a cake. It went on to win many awards. </p>.<p>These films offer a peek into Panahi’s state of mind during his period of isolation. He discusses capital punishment, creativity and filmmaking in ‘Taxi’. In the film, he plays himself and uses his car like a taxi service. He tries to build his arguments through the voices of a cross-section of Iranian society.</p>.<p>The best part of the film is the conversation between his niece and Panahi. The niece is given the task of making a film by her school teacher. However, the rules for filmmaking have confused the little girl. If the film has to be realistic, how can sordid reality be avoided?</p>.<p>But beyond these aspects, she demands that her uncle gives her a film that is easily distributable, something that the world can see without having to struggle. Most of Panahi’s films have had restrictions for distribution and even been banned.</p>.<p><em>Closed Curtain </em>opens with an author escaping to a vacation home to protect his dog. A government decree announces that dogs are un-Islamic. The author, played by Kambozia Partovi (a co-writer with Panahi on several films), is initially successful in avoiding attention. But one day, his peace is destroyed when a lady and her brother seek refuge in the vacation house.</p>.<p>The lady confronts the author and tries to infuse some openness which seems like a metaphor for courage. She urges him to come out of depression and suicidal thoughts. </p>.<p>The curtains are ripped around the house, unveiling Panahi’s film poster and subsequently, Panahi himself. Shot on location at Panahi’s vacation house, he gives us an insight into how the world looks at Panahi. A person refuses to be in a picture with Panahi as he is not sure of the risk that it carries. </p>.<p><em>This Is Not A Cinema</em> is a snapshot of a day in Panahi’s life during the Iranian new year festival. Alone in his house, he calls his friend and a cameraman and they decide to document his life. </p>.<p>Since Panahi is not allowed to make films, he decides to circumvent the rules by narrating the screenplay of a film that never got the approval from the censorship board. </p>.<p>But he breaks down in the process, lamenting that a narration, however good, can never be as powerful as a film. Comparatively, it is one of the weakest of his films in the ‘house arrest trilogy’ because Panahi uses himself as a delivery mechanism to convey his idea unlike the other two films.</p>.<p><strong>Panahi and the physical stranglehold of cinema</strong></p>.<p>The Russian filmmaker Tarkovsky was harassed by the communist authorities for close to two decades. Some of his negatives were burnt in “accidental fires”. He left Russia in 1979 and ironically was awarded the Lenin prize for his contribution to cinema after his death. </p>.<p>In the past, prints could be destroyed or stopped from being shipped. Today, digital technology has made the distribution of cinema easy and borderless. </p>.<p>Unlike his brilliant mentor Abbas Kiarostami, who made films in Japanese and Italian languages, Panahi has refused to make films outside Iran. Perhaps it is difficult to separate the lover and his muse.</p>.<p>Or maybe the physical stranglehold of cinema continues differently. </p>