This is not an easy watch, and the documentary style opening anchors it firmly in reality. We are very much in Iran in the late 70s, but we could equally be anywhere else where oppression exists -- where a new beginning turned into a living nightmare.
Azar Nafisi, confidently returning from America, experiences the grim reality of Iran in the 80s. Exuberant and self-assured, her behaviour couldn't be further from what's expected of her as an educator and a woman.
Lead actress Golshifteh Farahani has the gravitas and leadership required for the role, but also the levity and mischief that fuels Azar's acts of resistance. She creates an alchemy with the superbly matched ensemble cast, translating the political dynamics into painfully accessible human relationships.
"There's a lot on the line for me", says a visibly tortured security guard to a non-compliant Azar, putting the responsibility on HER to save HIS skin. That scene really drove home the grotesque unfairness debilitating both sides.
As the film progresses, you feel it viscerally: sickened and squirming, eyes brimming with tears, then warmth and joy spilling into your belly. What really shows the brutality of the regime is not even the dramatic scenes of obvious shock value. It is the small everyday moments that constantly grate on dignity and liberty, until the only choice left is to leave.
And equally, it is the small everyday moments of defiance and connection that make you revel in joy and resistance. As the real life Azar Nafisi says in her book, these women "never had a private corner", and it is in her living room, in each other's company, that they experience privacy and individuality.
The film asks a lot of you, but the aftertaste that remains is not of oppression or tragedy. It's one of defiant joy, unquenchable hope, a love for Iran, and the safe haven of connection.
