By Sarina Soleymani
January
As the new year approached, each of us partook in our own plans, spent time with friends or family, ate 12 grapes or sat under the table and celebrated what is supposed to be a new beginning. We shared the same yearly thirst for change which is indeed never quenched, at least not for most. Yet, a group of people who did immediately experience this shift was the Iranian population. On Jan. 1, 2023, six of the most influential Iranian figures created a coalition group against the Islamic Republic, an important display of solidarity with the revolution. Among them includes one exiled and noteworthy actress who refuses to stay silent and continues to shed light on the events happening in our homeland. I was given the chance to speak to Golshifteh Farahani, an individual I grew up watching, hearing about and admiring for her courage, intellect and heart.
From “About Elly” to “Paterson,” Golshifteh Farahani has earned her place as a leading Iranian actress. In 2008, she was exiled from the country due to her refusal to wear the hijab during the premiere of her film “Body of Lies,” directed by Ridley Scott. Preceding the current movement in Iran, Farahani expressed that she did not publicly articulate her political opinions, which oppose the Islamic Republic. Yet, after witnessing the fearlessness of the Iranians who protested the regime following the 2022 morality police killing of Mahsa Amini, the Iranian actress was inspired to use her freedom to amplify their words, predominantly through social media. As an exiled Iranian actress living in the West, Farahani has a unique voice, encompassing not only those who have lived in Iran but also those in the diaspora contending with survivor’s guilt. Additionally, being able to share her personal experiences of being harassed by the Iranian secret service, grappling with mixed public reactions to controversies and navigating industry secrets provides her with a unique perspective. Therefore, allow me to share accounts of perhaps the most mesmerizing conversation I have ever had the pleasure of engaging in.
Soleymani: Considering your work in the film industry and your political activism, do you believe that film and politics are intertwined? If so, how do you believe that your role in film contributes to this, and when did you first become aware of this intersection?
Farahani: Following a short pause, she replied, “Well, I think you must know. You are Iranian. Your life is very intertwined with politics without even wanting it to be. When you are born, you are born into a politics which you don’t even know about, but, you are part of. Same, as another Iranian, I was born and raised in Iran (...). The theocracy became part of our existence: wearing the hijab since you are six to go to school, not being able to sing, watching your parents have to fight for their existence, and so becoming part of that fight.”
This is a common phenomenon felt across the Iranian population, as my friends and family in Iran, myself included, have felt the burden of having an inherently political identity, both on the global and domestic stage. Yet, somehow her explicit acknowledgment and voicing of said burden was particularly striking. Indeed, within this fight — as she explained to me — art becomes crucial, acting as political statements instead of merely creative outlets. Actions that may not be considered political elsewhere become political in the Iranian context. Farahani elaborated, “If you are a woman singing in Europe, you are just a woman singing, but in Iran, that act becomes a political act. I also realized that whatever we are and whatever we do as artists, whether we like it or not, becomes political, especially as women, because our existence is a position; we are opposing something when we are born.”
S: I have noticed that Iranian women are often presented in one of two ways: as pitiful/repressed beings in need of being saved by the West or as side characters whose sole purposes in life are to submit to religion or the male protagonist. Do you feel similarly, and do you believe that there is a discrepancy between how Iranian women are portrayed abroad and in Iranian media?
F: “The media, both ways, are always trying to make things black and white. They don’t like the middle way — the grayness of life. Especially the media in Iran, which is like propaganda, a staged media which is trying to show things that are absolutely theater scenes. Not even so, because most theater scenes are honest when this one is not. The goal of the Islamic Republic is to portray Iran as very Islamic.”
However, she pointed out that they have lost this battle with the presence of social media as it allowed a window into the real Iran, the living habits of the younger generation and their true interests. In the same way, Iranian cinema, with the emergence of directors such as Kia Rostami, who have put a spotlight on the Iranian countryside to the Oscar-winning metropolitan wave, notably the works of Asghar Farhadi. “I think a reason that Iranian cinema became so popular is that it was one of the only representations of Iran with image and sound that actually wasn’t part of the media (...).” Her words indicated the irony that Iranian cinema contradicted messages that the media tried to push within their portrayals of mundane interactions of Iranian daily life, that “in Iran, we are not going around in camels, we listen to the same music.” The significance of Iranian cinema boils down to allowing Iran to be discussed outside of political tensions with other countries, sparking curiosity in our culture and almost humanizing the perception of the Iranian people, which in turn allows greater empathy to be given to our cause.
Farahani has several recollections of her time in Iran. One striking memory occurred when she was young — she used to shave her head and pretend to be a boy, a seemingly drastic act of rebellion that would allow her the simple pleasure of playing basketball. Once I broached this with her, she replied: “I think it is funny that you mention that because when you are born in a very harsh climate, the only way to survive is to be brave. Because, in a harsh climate, say the North Pole or the Desert, where the environment is neither convenient nor normal, you need to have certain abilities to survive as a human or as an animal. Literally as an animal. You need to take risks because you cannot have food if you don’t take risks.
In the same way, in Iran, when you are born under a dictatorship, your existence depends on certain bravery. Otherwise, you somehow give in, and you rot in (fear). If you want to live the life you want, you must take risks, and those risks could be perceived as bravery, but for us, it is just how we survive. For me, I only realized they call me a rebel when I left Iran. In Iran, I was a normal teenager just breaking limits because only certain laws, I believe, have to be respected — only the laws that make sense and are logical.” She related this survival instinct to the bravery of young people today in Iran — those who take to the streets, who are ready to sacrifice their lives for the freedom of others, who dare to post on their social media, aware that doing so could be fatal. While admiring the courage of the modern youth, she notes, “as a teenager, life is something you can play with much more easily. I’m not sure how to explain it because I was at that age where I would play with my life, but now I would not do what I used to do.”
S: As somebody who works within the film industry, what insight could you offer regarding censorship in Iran?
F: “Censorship comes under the great umbrella of theocracy (...) it becomes a part of that law where you constantly have to become more creative to find ways to break it. The thing is that nothing in Iran will stop people from doing what they want to do — impossible is the only impossible that we can imagine,”
Farahani expanded that making something off-limits would only make us want to show it more. That rebellion is in Iranian blood, giving examples of how Iranian cinema always found methods to break censorship. For instance, physical intimacy between couples is highly censored, and Farahani highlighted how instead of showing couples kissing on film, “in some movies you can see the man biting an apple and moving the apple to the woman and the woman biting the apple.” This was a reference to her own film, Boutique — a fact she left out during the interview. Nonetheless, Farahani also warned about the danger of breaking censorship rules, namely in reference to the deadly nature of recent protests.
S: Considering the high toll of censorship in Iran, how should the international community support them? Are they doing enough, and what more could they be doing?
F: “The international community came in very late, almost two months after hundreds of people were killed, arrested, tortured, raped…The great feminists of the world came very late, but of course, it is never too late, and they are always welcome. We have a very ingrained fear of foreign influence inside Iran because whenever they did something inside Iran, it was always a mess, and it was never for the benefit of the people, like the 1953 coup d’état against Mossadegh or even the Iranian Revolution. So the only thing the foreign community can do is outside of Iran; they cannot interfere inside Iran, but they can ban Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps, and they can ban all the people who crackdown on the people of Iran. Those people should be banned from the world and shouldn’t live so easily outside of Iran. We need to put as much pressure on the Islamic Republic — because now we find that Iran is being held hostage by the Islamic Republic. We need to squeeze them outside of Iran so they cannot do business and easily live in foreign countries. They have a lot of investments elsewhere; they took the country’s money outside of Iran. We need to find and ban (Islamic Republic officials’ funds), literally exile the people who have created hell in Iran to where they came from.”
On Dec. 17, 2022, another Iranian actress, Taraneh Alidoosti, was arrested for courageously publishing herself on Instagram without wearing a hijab and publicly supporting the movement. Before her arrest and immediately following her post, Golshifteh Farahani also posted on Instagram supporting Alidoosti and expressing that she feels hopeful for Iran. Her hope is founded in the notion that when Farahani took off her hijab in 2008, she was confronted by reactions of disappointment, yet in 2022, Alidoosti was applauded. I told her I had only encountered Iran in a more contemporary context and, coming from bustling Tehran, I had more exposure to this open-minded side of Iran. I asked her if she believed whether my Iran is different from the one she left 15 years ago. “The main difference is that when I left, Generation Z was four, five, six and now they are 17, 18, 19 — teenagers and young adults.” She explained that this generation and the possibility that they can live in a free Iran is the motivating factor that inspires her to spread awareness and join the fight. Farahani also highlighted social media’s positive role, which mounts Iran on the global stage.
S: When it comes to such a turbulent political movement, what do you consider deserves the most attention and is there anything you would like to shed light on?
F: After a pause of reflection, she articulated, “every part of it: the people in prisons, the people killed, raped, tortured, those who lost their eye [referencing Ghazal Ranjkesh—a girl from Bandar Abas of Iran was shot in the eye by security forces after coming home from four hours of class and nine hours of work], artists such as Toomaj Salehi, who is close to facing execution. The tragedy is a humanitarian crisis but, because it is happening in the geopolitically complex region of the Middle East, it is not getting enough attention which makes us powerless when we do everything in our power.”
S: To perhaps end on a lighter note, do you have any film recommendations for the readers?
F: “Patience Stone.” Brilliantly following the story of a woman in Afghanistan who sets herself free, Farahani finds the story told in this film deserving to be heard and explains that she often follows the theme of women’s emancipation in her movies.
Golshifteh Farahani provided brilliant insight into not just our country’s history and the evolution of social mindsets but also the distinction between media, cinema and tools used by directors to escape censorship. She even taught me about some shared experiences within the Iranian identity. This exchange fuelled hope that humble, intelligent and empathetic figures like herself can guide and shape the narratives needed to ensure that our upcoming revolution will be successful.