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Indian Express

On filmmaker Jafar Panahi's 65th birthday, a documentary pays homage to Iranian cinema and literature

By: Deepak Rajeev Known to make films undercover and in rather clandestine ways, the 'rebel' filmmaker Jafar Panahi recounts a rare anecdote about his suicide attempt after a year of depression due to the Iranian government's decision to ban him from making films. He says: 'I remember one night I went to the sea to kill myself. But the heavy waves of the sea rejected me. I went deep inside for about two or three kilometres but rushed out crying. That night, I decided no matter what happens, I will find a way out to make films.' Panahi says this in Sreemoyee Singh's 'And, Towards Happy Alleys' that was screened in Delhi last week. Panahi is known for his critically acclaimed films such as The White Balloon (1995), 3 Faces (2018), This Is Not A Film (2011). In the film, Sreemoyee is in his car and we see a happy, down-to-earth Panahi who continues to make award-winning films even after being arrested, jailed and banned by the Iranian government. He tells her that making films is what provides meaning to his life and he won't leave the country even though the government wants him to. On his birthday, July 11 Sreemoyee's documentary And, Towards Happy Alleys was screened at Kiran Nadar Museum of Art, New Delhi. The film, which could be considered as a cinematic and poetic love letter to Iranian New Wave cinema and literature, also reminds us about the deep burden of authoritarian restrictions and artistic censoring imposed by the Iranian government on its citizens. The screening was followed by a discussion, moderated by the organisers of the initiative, Ishan Sharma and Neha Tickoo, which spotlighted the socio-political condition of Iran since the Iranian Revolution in 1979. 'And, Towards Happy Alleys' had its world premiere in the Panorama Section at Berlin International Film Festival in 2023. It develops as a travel diary of the director through Iran, a country that produces cinematic milestones and literary gems even under the threat of the theocratic republic's scissors of censoring. For Sreemoyee, who hails from Kolkata and knows fluent Persian, this is her first feature length documentary. Her fantasy short film 'Flying Taxi', released this year, has Ratna Pathak Shah in the lead. In the beginning of 'And, Towards Happy Alleys' itself wondering about the marvellous sense of hope and poetic sublimity emanating from the art of Iran, Sreemoyee asks: 'Where did this hope emanate from? How could such life-affirming stories of beauty emerge from the claustrophobia of censorship?' Through her interactions with Palme d'Or-winning director Panahi, lawyer and activist Nasrin Sotoudeh, filmmaker Mohammad Shirvani and others, Sreemoyee tries to answer these questions in the film. Furthermore, the patriarchal and restrictive socio-political situation of the country that doesn't allow women to visit public places without hijab, punishes women who sing in public and where the government uses Morality Police, violence, and force to suppress protesting voices—also comes to light through her journey. The poetry of Forugh Farrokhzad, the rebel poet who unveiled her hijab and openly wrote about her desires, sexuality and womanhood, flows through the heart of this film. Sreemoyee herself said during the discussion following the screening: 'Forugh is a big part of this film. She is pivotal; she drives the film.' Sreemoyee, who completed her PhD on Iranian cinema and travelled through Iran, compares it with India and says when it comes to the experience of a woman, the countries aren't very different. Even though the degree of policing, censorship and panic is higher in Iran, 'we have had very similar struggles'. During the discussion, she said, 'As a woman in India, I didn't feel like Iran was a very different space. In India, too, women have been taught to always be on our guard. We have to be careful, every time.' The film also reminds us that the Reza Shah Pahlavi government that ruled before the Iranian Revolution in 1979 — prior to the accession of Ayatollah Khomeini as supreme leader — was also not very favourable for women. Putting forth a Western model of developmental plan, the Reza Shah regime banned hijab altogether without taking into account the Iranian women's freedom of choice. Therefore, Maede M, a writer featured in the documentary, tells Sreemoyee: 'Both the bans are like each other. This law that enforces the hijab and Reza Shah's ban of hijab are the same as both disrespect the choice of the people. Because it's all about our choices. My mother is a person who believes in the hijab and yet she doesn't agree with mandatory hijab. Because it's an insult to her choice.' As the documentary ends, a subtle feeling of awe and uneasiness fills the heart of the spectator, thinking about the greatness of filmmakers and poets such as Abbas Kiarostami, Panahi, Farrokhzad and the struggles and sacrifices of protesters and women for freedom. It ends with a poem written by Forugh that represents the powerful, indomitable and passionate spirit of women who are facing injustice, read aloud by the writer Jinous Nazokkar with tearful eyes: 'When my trust was suspended from the fragile thread of justice And in the whole city they were chopping up my heart's lanterns When they would blindfold my innocent eyes with the dark handkerchief of Law And from my anxious temples of desire fountains of blood would squirt out When my heart had become nothing, nothing but the tick-tock of a clock I discovered I must, must, must love insanely.'