01/03/2023 - BERLINALE 2023: The Iranian director dissects his approach and discusses delicate ethical questions posed by his two films, screened in different sections of the gathering

Iranian director Mehran Tamadon arrived at the Berlinale this year with two films: Where God Is Not [+see also:
film review
trailer
interview: Mehran Tamadon
film profile] (in Forum) and My Worst Enemy [+see also:
film review
trailer
interview: Mehran Tamadon
film profile] (in Encounters). Both are composed of the testimonies of former Iranian political prisoners, but they are told from two opposing angles. We caught up with the director to dissect his approach and discuss the delicate ethical questions the two films pose.

Cineuropa: How did these two films come together?
Mehran Tamadon: It took eight years to make My Worst Enemy, whereas Where God Is Not was completed in just one year. While I was making My Worst Enemy, I started working on the other film, and it helped me to understand how to complete it.

There are a lot of psychological and philosophical layers inside My Worst Enemy. It's about power and about what we do to ourselves. The character that Zar Amir Ebrahimi embodies represents a double of me, my mirror, my own bad conscience. It was very difficult to put all of that together. Where God Is Not is like a wide shot, a landscape; My Worst Enemy is a close-up.

In Where God Is Not, you say that if the regime’s torturers saw this film, they would realise how horrible their crimes are. Do you really believe that?
You don't believe it?

Frankly, it sounds a bit naive.
I'm not sure that they would be shaken by it, but I am certain that I can't think differently than how I do. Otherwise, it means I am becoming like them because they want us to think that they will not change. They have that power, but we have to find the belief in ourselves that everybody can change. Of course, I have to continue on my path, even if they will continue on theirs. And my path is this one, naive or not. I don't think we can change the other, but an experience can change a person. I think these films are experiences.

In My Worst Enemy, you say that you would take this film to Iran, and when they arrest you, they will look at it. Is this something you really meant to do?
Yes, it is. Since June of last year, I've been wanting to go. I think if I did that, maybe I would have problems, but it's not the end of the world. Problems are a part of life, and maybe it would be worth it even if I ended up in prison. But I have to balance it out: I have young children, and my mother is very old, so in this respect, they win.

In these two films, your protagonists relive the trauma from their times in prison. Can you tell us how you feel about that?
In Where God Is Not, I tried to be delicate with my characters because the trauma is huge, and I had to take care of them. I always tried to make sure that they could go on; I kept asking them how they felt. I was really with them, and I understood that re-creating these scenes could even help them a bit. But it wasn't my sole goal to help them; it was to make the film. I don't think that a filmmaker is an angel or that he has only good intentions. He has his ego, and all these issues that are questioned in My Worst Enemy are part of that.

For the protagonists in Where God Is Not, they wanted to tell the world what is happening in Iran now. In My Worst Enemy, I did it with Zar, who, as an actress, has the tools to do it, and she made the project possible. Because she was interrogated for a year every day and, unlike others, could see her interrogator, she had this in her and was able to tap into it.

She confronts you about forcing the protagonists to go through their trauma again, and when you say they had a choice and could have said no, she asks if you are sure that’s really true. That's a very interesting question about free will and the responsibility of a filmmaker.
That's why I put it in the feature, because it's a critique of my film and the work of a filmmaker – not only mine, but that of all the filmmakers. I tried to put in the film all possible critiques of cinema, Iranians, power – all that. But the day after each shoot, I called the protagonists and asked them how they felt. For the characters in My Worst Enemy, it wasn't so hard; they were not imprisoned for too long, and the torture was not so horrible for them. But it was different for the people in Where God Is Not, especially Homa Kahlori, as she was in prison for five years. It was a very difficult scene with her that we shot in practically one take; it was the only possible way to do it. We got immersed in it and kept going.