“And yet, the hope of creating again is a reason for existence.” — hero Jafar Panahi, from prison

I am having a distinct – and enraging – sense of deja vu right now.

11 years apart. Identical situation. Only the second one is worse. Because it’s 11 years later and we’re still dealing with this shit.

In July of this year, Iranian filmmaker Jafar Panahi, one of my faves, was arrested – again – along with filmmakers Mohammad Rasoulof and Mostafa Al-e Ahmad. The regime has been after Jafar Panahi for years. His arrest in 2010 and then the lifetime ban imposed on him – plus a hunger strike, and all kinds of other things – created an international uproar, which I wrote about heavily on this site. Panahi ignored the ban, and continued to make films, and his collaborators were arrested or had their passports taken away (it speaks to the respect of his peers that they would risk this). The films were smuggled out of the country – one inside a pastry, delivered directly to the Cannes Film Festival. Panahi is so high-profile there was a spotlight on the situation, and the regime obviously felt some restraint in dealing with him. But they’ve wanted to silence him. BAD. In July, a colleague of Panahi’s was arrested and there were protests outside the prison. Panahi went to the prison to find out what happened to his friend. He joined the protest and was promptly arrested. He is still in prison. I’ve heard his health is poor. Covid is ravaging the prison. Then, on September 16, Mahsa Amini was killed and Iran erupted. The eruption shows no sign of stopping, although reliable information is hard to come by, since the regime turned social media/internet off, the same way they did in 2009.

To backtrack: Back in 2011, Panahi’s situation made international news. He was supposed to be on the jury at the Biennale, but of course did not attend. An empty chair with his name on it stayed on the stage throughout, a reminder of Panahi’s situation – which was desperate. He was on hunger strike. Somehow – Panahi managed to get a letter out of prison and into Isabella Rossellini’s hands (she was the president of the Jury). And she read the letter from the stage at the Biennale, and its message was broadcast out into the world. I was beside myself during this period. A lot of us were.

Gear yourself up to listen to her read his letter. It’s devastating.

I felt so helpless. The only thing I could think to do at the time was to host a week-long blogathon to celebrate Iranian film. I just wanted to amplify all of those voices, those films, those artists living in a state of siege, not just Panahi. It was incredible the response.

I don’t think I saw what was coming. Panahi was released. International pressure did have an effect – and if you listen to what actual Iranians are saying right now – this is what they all are saying. It’s not virtue-signaling to post about Iran. Stop sitting back and criticizing non-Iranians for supporting Iran – if you yourself have never once paid any attention to Iran in your life. You know what that’s called? That’s called “privilege”. Iranians need us to post FOR them because the internet is fucking turned off. Tyrannies prefer privacy and silence to do their dirty work. Let’s deny them that privacy, shall we? Well, I will. You do what you want. If criticizing and/or snarking on those who show support for and solidarity with a long overdue revolution, then Twitter has infiltrated your response-system to a fatal degree and you are not someone I feel I need to listen to.

In 2011, Panahi was released from prison – clearly the regime felt the pressure – so technically he was “out”, but he was under house arrest, and a 20-year ban on filmmaking, travel, and/or interviews with foreign journalists was handed down. It was crushing. What was incredible – and I just feel lucky to have been alive and super tuned in to what was going on so I could participate in it fully – was …. Panahi ignored the ban. He kept making films. Granted, he had to make “indoor” films now – filmed in his own house – or, notably, in a car – whereas his normal style was a jittery and adrenaline-fueled Lumet-esque documentary-style out on the streets cinema – but … he kept making films. This is what I kept talking about in my post on Vaclav Havel, and Havel’s idea of living “as if” you were free, even if a regime keeps telling you you are not. (I have written about the “as if” idea in re: Iranian artists for years now.) Jafar Panahi ignoring the ban, risking the consequences – not just to his own life, but the lives of anyone who chose working with him – is the ultimate example of Havel’s hard-won command.

This situation – of Panahi secretly making films, which then left Iran (because of course they never played in Iran) and opened around the world – lasted for a decade, until last July, when the regime did what they have been wanting to do from even BEFORE the first arrest. They got him. And now they’re pissed. They don’t give a fuck about international opinion.

And so. Two nights ago. In a repeat of the 2011 Biennale, his latest film – No Bears – just premiered at the New York Film Festival. In another repeat, he is not free to attend because he is in prison, just like he was in 2011. In prison for criticizing a tyrannical government. His lead actress, Mina Kavani, made a speech from the massive stage at Walter Reader, and then held up a sign with the words WOMEN. LIFE. FREEDOM. I am in tears. She also read a letter from Panahi. You can see the whole clip below.

Here is the text of Jafar Panahi’s letter.

“We are filmmakers. We are part of Iranian cinema. For us, to live is to create. We create works that are not commissioned. Therefore, those in power see us as criminals. Independent cinema reflects its own times. It draws inspiration from society. And cannot be indifferent to it.

The history of Iranian cinema witnesses the constant and active presence of independent directors who have struggled to push back censorship and to ensure the survival of this art. While on this path, some were banned from making films, others were forced into exile or reduced to isolation. And yet, the hope of creating again is a reason for existence. No matter where, when, or under what circumstances, an independent filmmaker is either creating or thinking about creation. We are filmmakers, independent ones.”

I go into more detail here – in my birthday post for Panahi – written this year, before I heard he had been arrested. Panahi is in my Top 10 of living directors. His situation has been outrageous for years now and I could not admire him more for his courage and strength – but I am FURIOUS that he has had to be heroic this way, and couldn’t just make his films like any other director in any other country. Thank you Mina Kavani for spreading the word.