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Iranian director Ali Asgari has no desire to repeat clichés about great expectations for things to come.
“In Iran, we don’t have high hopes for the future anymore,” he states.
“We’ve been waiting for good news for so many years, and it never came. But I do believe in these small specks of light. For now, let’s just stick to them so that we can take the next step.”
Talking to Variety after the premiere of his sixth feature “A Bit of Light,” Asgari – also behind “Disappearance,” “Terrestrial Verses” and “Divine Comedy” – said he wanted to “celebrate simple things.”
“Right now, especially in my country, we are forgetting about them. We’re forgetting about our families and helping others. We are surrounded by disaster every day, all the time, always expecting something horrible to happen,” he says.
“When we wake up, we don’t know if we’ll be able to handle it until nighttime. We’re all living in a dangerous world right now. If after watching this film someone goes to their mother and takes her hand, that’s enough.”
Family is certainly on the mind of his protagonist, a kind doctor (played by Misagh Zareh) who becomes disillusioned after his arrest. With his medical practice shut down, he’s ready to end his life. He’s a practical man, though, so he decides to tell his family and make suitable arrangements.
“Some doctors in Iran were the only witnesses to what was really happening after the massacre in January. They faced so much death and saw so many injured. We couldn’t even talk about it,” he notes.
In January, after weeks of protests, the authorities opened fire on demonstrators.
“I saw so many families mourning their children. It had affected so many people’s lives. This man still feels connected to his family, and he knows he has to prepare them for what he wants to do. That’s just the way he is.”
He keeps his pain to himself.
“Usually, when we think about sadness or depression, we think of very expressive acting or directing. I took a simpler approach. I told [Misagh]: ‘I only want to see it in your eyes and on your face’.”
Asgari, who got to show the film in Venice’s main competition, thought a lot about Italian filmmakers.
“I studied in Italy, basically. I’ve been inspired a lot by Italian neorealism and people like [screenwriter] Cesare Zavattini. It was important for me to show the everyday life of a country, and I see many similarities between [Iran] and neorealism’s depiction of Italy after the war.”
“We are experiencing a horrible tragedy: war and massacres. That’s why it’s so important to focus on normal life.”
His characters can’t ignore what’s happening entirely – they cook and talk about Trump – but they still need to keep going.
“While writing the screenplay, we thought a lot about the absurdity of it all. Albert Camus wrote about Sisyphus rolling a rock to the top of a mountain. Then the rock would roll down, and he had to start over. That’s our life,” says Asgari.
“This man decides to act because nothing has changed. In the end, the war still exists, and so does the repression. But then he decides to roll the rock back up the mountain again.”
He adds: “That’s also what I’ve learnt from Italian filmmakers like Nanni Moretti. ‘The Son’s Room’ [about parents grieving the death of their son] was a very good example of that.”
In the film – sold by Salaud Morisset and produced by Milad Khosravi for Seven Springs Pictures – helping others or simply being with them takes the protagonist’s mind off suicide.
“This story is about a man who’s going to take his life, but life follows him everywhere,” says the director.
“Our lives are interconnected. Personally, whenever I want to do something, I immediately think of my mother and sisters. How will they react? I know I could destroy their lives, so I’m careful when making decisions,” he says.
“What we need, especially now, is to be together. Iran is a divided country. I wanted this family to come together, sit side by side and even dance a little. If we want any kind of change, it should happen this way.”
In Iran, but also in other places.
“During our premiere, so many people were crying. It didn’t matter where they were from. They just connected with this character, mostly because we’re talking about human values and dignity.”
“That’s what cinema is for – it can speak your language, and it can speak for everyone. In life, we sometimes hope for big things. But I’m not waiting for a bright future anymore. Just for some light.”
English (US) ·