Iranian director Jafar Panahi is renowned for his naturalistic, character-focused works. And he’s currently in prison. Panahi has been arrested by the Iranian government numerous times, and banned him from filmmaking or being able to leave Iran. But despite these frequent legal obstacles, the director has made several films in secret. After releasing No Bears, his 11th feature, is currently serving another prison sentence, along with several other filmmakers. Part faux documentary, part film-within-a-film, his latest follows a series of seemingly incidental events that coalesce into a subtle and unexpectedly devastating investigation of a director who, much like himself, struggles to create art under the relentless oppression of the Iranian government.
No Bears has a deceptively simple premise yet brilliant structure that embodies the filmmaker’s perspective. Panahi plays a fictionalized version of himself, a director banned from leaving Iran and attempting to shoot a film in secret. He goes from Tehran, the capital, to a small village near the Iranian-Turkish border, to be “closer” to the secret shoot happening in the nearby city in Turkey, where his colleagues use his shooting script under remote supervision. However, Panahi has almost no internet access in a village whose residents face him with suspicion.
The film within the film is a story of two lovers trying to escape to Europe. The real life of the actors and the film’s characters overlap, leading the viewer to witness a blending of reality and fiction, of documentary and curated storytelling. We move from “action” to “cut” and beyond; scenes continue beyond the façade and we aren’t sure what is real. The viewer is forced into an active role, deciphering where and what reality is within this film. Is it Panahi’s film within a film? Is it the with the filmmaker himself? What is art? What is fiction?
Meanwhile, we follow Panahi as he lives in isolated oppression, watched by villagers, the threat of imprisonment and death constantly hanging over him. He becomes embroiled in a village dispute that is absurd, frustrating and relentless. Panahi examines his own position as an oppressed filmmaker, secretly filming in a society of oppressed peoples.
The naturalistic quality of No Bears comes from the real limitations of making a low-budget, indie film, and also seems to be a purposeful choice that reflects his meta-documentary style. What is real? What is curated? The camera is close up to the action, then films furtively from afar. Footage is sometimes shaky, scenes are often set in small rooms or outside on dusty roads, or in the dead of night. There is a sense of submersion, of claustrophobia. The cinematography feels intimate in this way, close to the characters, physical and palpable.
The plot is expertly constructed. We believe we are watching seemingly random, incidental moments. Conversations about an irritating conflict repeat over and over. Panahi is stuck in a stone room, in front of his laptop. People walk in and out of homes, the production crew shoots random scenes. The film appears on its surface to be a series of small moments and minor dramas, until we see that these events have been constructed to build tension. The stakes of these storylines become clear. We realize we are unnerved, anticipating the inevitable consequences. The mundane and random conceals the overwhelming forces of terror, oppression, cultural tradition, love.
The dialogue too mirrors this dynamic; characters make small talk or speak around a larger issue, while the underlying threat or pain is just out of reach. The actors are a mix of professionals and non-professionals, adding to the air of authenticity and the sense that we as viewers are spying where we shouldn’t.
No Bears is a viewing experience like no other. Panahi depicts an intimate, organic, seemingly random story set in a small Iranian village, yet also re-imagines reality via layers of perspective. There is the viewer and the subject, the filmmaker and his story, the interrogation of filmmaking itself. The film builds tension and unfolds its emotional depths throughout, leading to a quietly stunning conclusion.
Photo courtesy of Janus Films
The post No Bears appeared first on Spectrum Culture.