Jafar Panahi

A passionate declaration of love for the cinema and poetry of Iran, which also offers a frank view of the precarious situation for critics of the regime and shows the uncompromising daily struggle of Iranian women against their oppression.

On May 18, 2017, the Busan International Film Festival’s Program Director Kim Jiseok died suddenly and unexpectedly from a heart attack while on a business trip to the Cannes Film Festival. In the face of his unexpected demise, his old friends and colleagues in the film industry recall what tormented him in his last days.

Iranian director Jafar Panahi, who has been barred from leaving the country, arrives at a village on the Iran-Turkey border to supervise a film based on a real-life couple seeking passports to Europe being shot in Turkey, but both his stay and the production run into trouble.

Featuring seven stories from seven auteurs from around the world, the film chronicles this unprecedented moment in time, and is a true love letter to the power of cinema and its storytellers.

A portrait of the Panahi family's matriarch as the pandemic makes it more difficult for intergenerational connection.

Jafar Panahi sets out to find a Kurdish young woman with a golden voice that has been forbidden to sing by her family.

Secretly filmed in Iran for over two years, Nasrin is an immersive portrait of human rights activist and political prisoner Nasrin Sotoudeh and Iran’s remarkably resilient women’s rights movement. Nasrin has long fought for the rights of women, children, LGBT prisoners, religious minorities, journalists and artists, and those facing the death penalty. She was arrested in 2018 for representing women who protested Iran’s mandatory hijab law and sentenced to 38 years in prison, plus 148 lashes. Narrated by Academy Award-winning actress Olivia Colman and featuring acclaimed filmmaker Jafar Panahi, Nobel Peace Prize laureate Shirin Ebadi, journalist Ann Curry, exiled women’s rights activist Mansoureh Shojaee, and Nasrin Sotoudeh.

Filmmaker Jafar Panahi and actor Behnaz Jafari travel to a tiny village after receiving a plea for help from a girl whose family has forbidden her from studying acting. Amusing encounters abound, but they soon discover that the local hospitality is rivaled by the desire to protect old traditions.

Jafar Panahi and fellow Iranian director Majid Barzegar take a 20-minute drive to Kiarostami’s grave, during which time “the two friends speak appropriately of cinema, but also censorship and festivals, police power and ideology.”

Kiarostami as we have never really known him before, despite the transformative power of his many movies. Filmmaker and close friend Samadian avoids the talking heads of so many artistic memoirs to offer more candid clips of Kiarostami the man: lover of poetry, convivial with friends, engaging landscapes on and off screen, laughing with other artists. The artist and visionary emerges more clearly but so does a loving, wondrous man whom we will miss now as much as the auteur.