PERSONAL STORY IS A POLITIC CHOICE
‘If we (listen) to each other,’ filmmaker Foroughi says of her feature debut Ava, ‘we can get closer — and maybe people won’t feel Iran is so far away, or so bad’
Sadaf Foroughi felt at home, last Thursday afternoon, sitting in the café of our city’s art house movie mecca, the Cinémathèque québécoise, where her film Ava opens Friday.
“For me, Ava is an art house film,” said the Iranian Montrealer, who has lived here for nearly a decade.
It’s also a completely independent film, having received no production help from Canada’s major funding agencies. Shot in Iran with local actors, on a shoestring budget, the semi-autobiographical tale follows its titular female teen, whose movements are increasingly restricted by her parents, her school and seemingly all of Iranian society.
Ava has come a long way on limited means, winning the Federation of International Film Critics (FIPRESCI) Prize and an honourable mention at the Toronto International Film Festival (TIFF), in September; followed more recently by being named best first feature at the Canadian Screen Awards, where Bahar Noohian (who plays Ava’s mother) won best supporting actress.
Noohian was on-hand to accept her trophy, visiting Canada for the first time at the insistence of CSA organizers.
“They said, ‘She has to come,’” Foroughi recalled. “She came for seven days. She loved it. She couldn’t speak, she was so stunned by everything.”
Ava’s lead actress, impressive newcomer Mahour Jabbari, was also invited, but had to stay behind to write her college entrance exams — which brings to mind a climactic scene in the film.
Jabbari and Shayesteh Sajadi (who plays Ava’s best friend, Melody) made headlines in September when they were prevented from appearing at TIFF after being denied entry into the country by the Canadian embassy in Turkey — a controversy that Foroughi handled with remarkable diplomacy.
Choosing one’s words carefully is something Iranians — particularly Iranian filmmakers — have got used to, none more than Jafar Panahi, who continues to make “non-films” in the country despite being forbidden to do so after upsetting the country’s highly sensitive censors.
Foroughi, who had to submit her script for approval before shooting in Iran, appears to follow in the footsteps of Oscarwinner Asghar Farhadi, whose fraught fables are more notable for what they don’t say than what they do.
“My film stayed within the framework and respect of what the Iranian government allows,” Foroughi said. “It’s a family story. In no way did I want to touch on anything more.”
And yet, in its understatement and slowly building tension, Ava speaks volumes. The film opened in New York last week, where the Times called it “an exquisitely photographed train heading straight for a brick wall,” adding that “the movie distils its emotions — and maintains its momentum — in conversations of remarkably controlled intensity.”
For Foroughi, it’s a story that had been with her for a long time, and was just waiting to be told.
“Some stories are hidden within you, and come out on their own,” she said. “We’re all influenced by our childhoods and adolescence, by things that shape us forever.”
If in viewing the film, viewers glean certain things about Iran, she is fine with that. What she would most like people to understand, however, is that despite their distinct political reality, Iranians are the same as people anywhere else.
“I made Ava to tell a story based on my own life, and my vision of the world at that time,” Foroughi said. “It hasn’t changed. Women have suffered a lot, for years, and we have to talk about it. In Iran, maybe it’s a bit worse.
“When you put an atom under pressure, it deforms. Iranian society is deformed at the moment. It’s a bit sick — it’s not negative, but it has to heal. … Women in Iran are no different than here. They have the same problems. If we (listen) to each other through stories, we can get closer — and maybe people won’t feel Iran is so far away, or so bad.”
Somewhat unusually, Ava is screening with English subtitles only; Foroughi didn’t have the means for a French subtitled version. One would have hoped that, with the big push to support female filmmakers at government funding agencies SODEC and Telefilm Canada, that such financing would have materialized — particularly given Ava’s impressive track record.
In the process of seeking funding for her second feature, about the relationship between an Iranian mother and her gay son, Foroughi isn’t overly optimistic things will be much different this time around.
“I think I will produce it myself,” she said of the film. “I heard something from a friend, who said that SODEC doesn’t recognize me as a producer. I was stunned; I’ve had my own company since December 2009.
“With Telefilm, I’m not sure it’s going to work because it’s in Persian, and they want films in English or French.”
Whatever the outcome, one senses that, like her determined main character in Ava, Foroughi will not give up; she will keep making artful, evocative films on her own terms.