Prior to accepting the Maverick Award, Jafar Panahi gave an inspiring Q&A at Rakov Jarak in which he talked about his life, politics, and filmmaking journey. He spoke about creativity under repression, the power of cinema as an instrument of resistance, and the importance of social responsibility and individual courage.
“When I was banned from traveling, I felt better”, he said without hesitation, making it hard to tell if he was joking. “I had more time to think about new projects. Now that I can travel again, I have to promote my films all around the world, from country to country, and it takes me a year.”
Despite his international visibility, Panahi laments that there are still scripts he hasn’t been able to do – some of these were created in response to contemporary circumstances in Iran, and he hopes to be able to realise them soon. One such script was inspired by his experience of being in prison: “Seven months in prison gave me the opportunity to listen to the stories of other inmates. In a way, I have the Islamic regime to thank for the idea for this film.”
He points out that he does not make films out of a current impulse of rebellion, but as a vision of the future: “This regime will fall – I am sure of that. The question is: what do we do then? Will we continue with the violence or stop it? That’s why my films are against violence.”
Panahi believes that film should not serve the regime, nor be afraid of its limitations: “When they banned me from filming for 20 years, I said: no, I will find a way. I made This Is Not a Film at my home. Then I made Taxi on the streets of Tehran, as a taxi driver with a camera. It was like a manifesto – a message to young filmmakers: Don’t get lazy. Find a way. Don’t give up.”
He was especially emotional when he spoke about his beginnings and collaborating with the great Abbas Kiarostami. “After the film Through the Olive Trees, we became close friends. At one point, without any notice, he blindfolded me and took me to the location of the last shot of that film. When I took the blindfold off, I realised how deeply he sees humans rooted in nature. I look at humans in society. That’s the difference between our filmmaking – he would always turn his camera to nature, and I to people.”
His sensibility for creating complex female characters has been well-known since his debut feature, The White Balloon, written by Kiarostami. “If you want to talk about restrictions in Iran, women are the ones who are most affected. They were the ones who led me on the path of socially engaged filmmaking.”
With the exception of The White Balloon, all of Panahi’s other films have been banned for release in Iran. However, thanks to the Internet, his works still find their way to the audience: “Distant cities, remote villages – people come up to me and say that they have seen one of my films. This is our way of communicating, until one day we’ll be able to watch movies in cinemas in Iran.”
Still, there are signs of change. After returning from Cannes, where No Bears won the Special Jury Prize, he was greeted by friends, families of prisoners and colleagues at the airport: “It was a sign of hope – that the filmmakers’ efforts have value, even under repression.”
Panahi also spoke of his own artistic maturation, recalling his first short film which, although technically correct, “had no soul”. Then, he says, he decided to look for his own creative voice. Panahi concluded by saying that he makes films primarily for himself. “At first, I ask myself – do I believe in this idea? If so, I put my name to it. If not – I throw it away. A movie has to have soul.
When asked about the difference between reality and fiction in his films, he responded in a manner that very much aligns with his work: “Let’s leave that question open. Let the audience decide for themselves whether something really happened or not. It makes the imagination work harder”, Panahi concluded.
