“Possesses an emotional truth that helps us overlook the narrative imperfections and embrace the message right at the core.”

In the margins of Tehran’s underground art scene, creativity becomes less a declaration than a way of surviving, along with those who strive to create art in a society where even the simplest acts of self-expression risk their fundamental human rights. This is the premise that drives The Friend’s House is Here, by Maryam Ataei and Hossein Keshavarz, who set out to craft a film that observes this fragile freedom with patience, tenderness, and a quiet complexity. The film centres around two young women who are driven to create. Their refuge is their studio, which becomes a liminal space for their creativity – one in which the oppression that they face as women in a society where their worth is assessed solely by how well they blend into the idealistic depiction of femininity, and where their fierce defiance of the status quo, become both their path to liberation and the obstacle over which they need to climb. A work less about debating the political atmosphere of contemporary Iran (which has taken an even more harrowing turn in recent weeks), than about a story of friendship, the film uses artistic expression as an emotional anchor from which it builds some silently devastating commentary on the state of the country. The directors allow for a subtle, quiet approach, one that leans towards patient observation, combining warmth and humour as they tell the story of two women leading exuberant lives, while slowly finding themselves unravelling as they navigate hostile surroundings that seek to soften – if not outright silence – their voices.

The title of this film evokes Abbas Kiarostami’s timeless classic, Where Is the Friend’s House?, and while they are thematically different, both are intricately woven portraits that set out to provide a snapshot of Iran at different points in history. The directors shift the focus to an older pair of protagonists, using this film as a means to explore female friendships, which is something that we don’t find represented in much contemporary Iranian cinema, at least not with this much attention to the concept of unconditional affection. This serves as the impetus for a story that refuses to be too sentimental or idealistic, but rather attempts to present a lifelong companionship between these characters to provide structure for the survival of these women as they navigate challenging circumstances. There are moments of genuine joy that punctuate this film, but rather than being fodder for escapism, it is deliberately used to counteract those moments where the pain and exhaustion that come from being fiercely independent when living under a tyrannical regime become overwhelming. The protagonists of The Friend’s House is Here are dedicated to supporting one another, building a creative collective that not only allows them a channel for self-expression, but a refuge from the outside world, a space where they can be ferociously independent without any hesitation. The scope of the film gradually expands to include additional characters whose perspective may not be central, but who nonetheless form a community through which a system of unconditional support can be provided where necessary. No resistance can exist without some form of community, which is precisely what this film sets out to explore with this tender story.

Based on its premise, it is clear that The Friend’s House is Here was striving to be more observational than it was persuasive, which is reflected in the directors’ very distinct style of allowing the camera to linger gently over every scene, capturing these interactions rather than guiding the narrative to a particular point. The approach is meant to make the audience believe that we are witnessing a few very personal, intimate moments between these people, a glimpse into their unguarded lives where they are able to be authentic without the threat of consequences for the simple act of expressing themselves artistically. Like the art the characters create, there is no fixed interpretation that drives this film, other than the clear intention to show their quiet but resilient attempt to articulate their identity and resist the system in their own individual ways. There aren’t many explicit political declarations, while still working to interrogate the nature of creativity and how it can become a vessel through which to filter all of their provocative questions. The film looks at the idea of apolitical art and whether such a concept can ever exist – a cornerstone conversation in this film includes a viewer of the performance put on by the protagonist asking why they didn’t feel compelled to just do the show “legally”, since nothing in the content of the show contradicts the principles of the law, without realising that merely the act of gathering and performing constitutes a form of defiance for these women, to the point where their work will always be political.

It has famously been said that art which doesn’t challenge power is just a decoration, an adage that has fuelled generations of ambitious individuals to create works which not only entertain but also force the observer to engage. Whether or not The Friend’s House is Here effectively communicates every nuance of this idea is up to individual interpretation – the vignette-driven structure creates a series of scenes that are emotionally rich and compelling on their own, but occasionally lack the clear connective tissue that would allow them to accumulate into something more cohesive and powerful. To its credit, the film is primarily focused on being a celebration of these women and their community, and even at its most harrowing, it never defaults to cynicism and instead bases itself on a solid foundation of hope. This is a portrait of a community bound by their shared commitment to dignity and common humanity – they know that their art is not going to change the world or have any real impact on the national ideology, but the simple act of defiance in allowing these stories to be told is enough for them. Tender emotions and a sincere kindness are used as the primary defence against the fear and repression these women face, affirming The Friend’s House is Here as a quietly resonant work that may feature certain unwieldy elements, but which also possesses an emotional truth that helps us overlook the narrative imperfections and embrace the message right at the core.