Moving, satirical, and frightening in equal measure, No Bears, the latest from currently imprisoned Iranian filmmaker Jafar Panahi, is one of the finest and most narratively elaborate films of the year. Like the films Panahi has previously made in recent years while under house arrest – Closed Curtain, This is Not a Movie, Taxi – No Bears blurs the line between art and artist; between artistic truth and actual truth. And just as before, the results are politically and emotionally charged, but also thoughtfully composed and entertaining. Not only is Panahi one of the finest, bravest, and most daring filmmakers working today, but he’s also one of the most thoughtful entertainers in the history of modern cinema.
The plot of No Bears is hard to explain without giving too much away because of its numerous delicately interwoven threads. Panahi plays himself, once again forced to work in secret thanks to restrictions placed on him by the Iranian government. Panahi is holed up in a rental property in a small town on the Turkish border, essentially ghost directing a film shooting in Tehran from his laptop. That story focuses on a pair of lovers (Bakhtiar Panjei, Mina Kavani) trying to secure French passports to escape out of Iran.
In one of the most poignant scenes in No Bears, Panahi travels under the cover of night with his assistant director (Reza Heydari) to an unguarded and unpatrolled portion of the Turkish border. The purpose of the trip is to show Jafar a shooting location in Turkey from a distance, but to also explain the delicate nature of getting the actors across the border without proper documentation or any unnecessary questions from government authorities. In that moment, the perpetually embattled Panahi realizes how easy it would be for him to simply slip across the border and towards a new life elsewhere. The viewer can see the filmmaker both bristling at the possibilities and filled with nervous energy, but also supremely terrified, and it’s all staged with the least amount of dialogue possible.
No Bears works best if the viewer is familiar with Panhi’s previous works, or at the very least with his current situation and status within Iran. Panahi has been arrested, detained, questioned, and sentenced numerous times over the past two decades and charged with producing propaganda against the Islamic Republic. Shortly before No Bears was due to have its premiere at the Venice and Toronto film festivals this fall, Panahi was sentenced to six years in prison, alongside other similarly minded filmmakers and colleagues who continue to be detained, sparking a public outcry around the world. It’s wrenching to think about that previously mentioned scene at the Turkish border and to visualize how close Panahi was to leaving such an oppressive artistic environment behind. But No Bears isn’t about the countless reasons Panahi might have to leave Iran, but rather why he would want to stay and bear witness.
The other major thread of Panahi’s story speaks to the filmmaker’s internal push and pull more metaphorically. The community where Jafar is staying – which has spotty cell and wi-fi services – is all abuzz thanks to the impending marriage of a young couple. It’s all anyone wants to talk about, including Panahi’s overly enthusiastic and scatterbrained landlord (Vahid Mobaseri). But in his downtime waiting to get a signal back and continuing the remote direction on his latest project, Panahi might’ve caught something on camera that could have devastating consequences for the entire community: a picture of the intended wife (Darya Alei) in the presence of a man (Amir Davar) who is not her promised husband. Panahi finds himself constantly distracted by gossiping, enthralled locals and overzealous officials who demand to see said photograph, but if he were to show such an object, it would likely be deadly to the man and woman in it.
What emerges is a deft and sometimes darkly hilarious portrait of a society where the truth will always get somebody hurt, either intentionally or collaterally. If Jafar comes forward and produces the necessary evidence that a “moral crime” has been committed, it would get the locals off his back and allow him to continue his projects in peace. If he doesn’t, no one will leave him alone and the unrest continues all around him and for the couple being implicated. It’s a no win situation for all parties involved, and one where Panahi feels a sense of blame. And still, Panahi – the character – never looks away from the discomfort, while Panahi – the filmmaker – finds a unique, theoretical story that encapsulates everything he has been feeling as an artist over the years. It’s a work about the nature of creative frustration writ large and with real world implications, despite the fact that all of this is a work of meta-fiction.
Like I said, it’s hard to explain with any degree of justice. No Bears isn’t as experimental as it might sound, but it’s absolutely an experiential work. Once Panahi places viewers into this framework, there isn’t anywhere else to go but to follow along and see where it takes them. And that’s precisely the point: sticking around to see where the day takes you. Here’s hoping that Panahi is freed from his sentence to see where he might take us all next.
No Bears opens at TIFF Bell Lightbox in Toronto, Vancity Theatre in Vancouver, Sudbury Indie Cinema, and Broadway Theatre in Saskatoon on Friday, December 23, 2022. It opens at Bytowne Theatre in Ottawa on January 6, 2023, and at Cinema du Parc and Cinema de Musee in Montreal on January 20.
No Bears (Trailer with English Subtitles) from filmswelike on Vimeo.
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