“Brilliant, subversive and frequently hilarious.”

Satire is one of the most powerful weapons we have when it comes to resistance, a tool not only used for social commentary but also as a means to defy entire systems that seek to oppress and restrict everyday freedoms. Any country that has experienced such tyranny will undoubtedly see the emergence of a body of artists who use their gifts to speak out against the system. In the case of Iran, even in the most intense and dramatic works by filmmakers like Jafar Panahi and Mohammad Rasoulof, there has always been some space reserved for humour (even if only momentarily). Satire doesn’t necessarily soften the emotional blow but instead actively underlines the bleakness of a particular situation by showing its absurdity. This is a principle that we can see from the start of Head to Head, the audacious feature debut of Ghasideh Golmakani, in which she takes aim at the subject of gender and identity in her native Iran. The film’s protagonist is Bahar, an acclaimed director who is currently in the process of making what she hopes will be her magnum opus, a gender-bending drama in which she follows four men over the course of a number of days. The caveat is that they are forced to dress like women, including the modesty garments and headscarves that are mandatory for women to wear. She believes that through inverting gender roles, she can potentially expose the very clear inequality in the system – but through her attempts to bridge the gap between them, she only makes the divide even wider, since nothing goes according to plan. It doesn’t take long for the authorities to enter the picture, which plunges the entire project – as well as the safety of those involved – into a state of peril. Brilliant, subversive and frequently hilarious, Head to Head manages to be insightful and provocative in equal measure, and announces Golmakani as one of the most exciting new voices in contemporary world cinema.

For those of us who do not live in a country defined by oppressive social systems it can be difficult to understand what life is like for those who do. There are certain aspects of our everyday routine that we tend to take for granted: the clothes we wear, the places we travel, and the fact that we are guaranteed privacy, or at least the illusion of it. We cannot fathom what life is like under such a system, which is precisely what makes Head to Head such a vital and borderline revolutionary work. Part of its brilliance comes in the initial concept, an inversion of gender roles through men volunteering to participate in a social experiment where they are forced to abide by the laws regarding modest clothing, and also the social conventions of being under the control of an all-seeing figure who dictates their every action and keeps them in line. The first half of Head to Head uses the sensation of constantly being watched to address the narrow boundary between voyeurism and surveillance, daring to ask why one is viewed as illegal and immoral, whereas the other is a prominent tool used by many governments to control the population. As this film posits, the only functional difference between them is the scope, and where privacy goes from a right to a privilege, tying directly into the theme of freedom, the central concept that guides this story. Both Golmakani and the director of the film-within-a-film use this idea as a way of lampooning the often-clandestine conditions under which Iranian artists have to express themselves, commenting on censorship and government control, the biggest threats to artistic freedom. This all facilitates the construction of a rich and daring satire that is willing to take some bold swings, producing exceptional results in the process.

Taking into account the complex and unnerving themes that populate Head to Head, we have to question the decision to make it a comedy, since very few of these ideas – government control, censorship, gender inequality and abuse of power – are considered cheerful or lighthearted. However, this is where the absolute brilliance of the film resides, since not only is Golmakani proving that it is possible to find humour in even the bleakest of situations (and vice versa, since the third act contains some deep existential commentary that could only emerge from the outrageous circumstances of these characters), but also that it can be used as a device to underline the inherent absurdity of the system under which she and her colleagues are forced to live. Through creative narrative decisions and a precise directorial approach, the film unspools to reveal something much deeper and more unsettling, the sardonic wit concealing complex ideas that eventually overtake the irreverent tone, which isn’t entirely extinguished, but instead takes on a more challenging form. The masterful use of tonal shifts moves the story into unexpected territory, and we can’t predict where the film is heading, which is part of the freewheeling nature of this narrative, since at no point do we know what awaits these characters around the next corner. Golmakani and her cast (led by the remarkable Mehrnoosh Satari, whose performance as the in-film director is simultaneously hilarious and haunting) utilise every tool available to evoke a specific kind of tension, that starts as mostly lighthearted before steadily changing course. It helps tremendously that the film is superbly directed, every frame bursting with subtle details that reveal more of these abstract concepts with which the film keeps playing, until we reach the harrowing final notes and we truly understand what the director is communicating.

We tend to view creativity as a vessel through which we can filter our desires, curiosities and frustrations, and don’t always consider how it can be an essential way for those in dire situations to make their voice heard. Head to Head asks a question of anyone who is inclined towards creative pursuits: how far would you be willing to go for your art? For the characters in this film (particularly the fictional director), there doesn’t seem to be a limit. This is not just about expressing herself, but a means to survive, which results in her spiralling into a state of near-madness in the pursuit of accuracy and perfection, to the point where she even tries to turn brutal intervention by the authorities into an opportunity to be creative. As a result of these bold choices, the film eventually becomes the very thing that it is satirising, a playful provocation of gender and social roles that starts as a relatively simple satire before becoming more disorienting, gradually exposing the realities faced by the people in modern Iran, whose entire lives are dictated by draconian laws that restrict them beyond reason. Ultimately, we cannot understand the pure impulse to rebel against a system until we have felt the full weight of it, which is the exact sensation that Golmakani tries to evoke. This hilariously irreverent chamber drama begins as a series of awkward interactions and eventually turns into a defiant political statement, one that exists somewhere between slapstick and social realism. The audience is challenged to reflect on our own personal understanding of gender and identity, addressing ideological obstacles that may be unfamiliar to those of us outside the culture, but which are masterfully summarised in this fascinating film. Whether in its moments of off-the-wall absurdity, or when it focuses on the more nuanced observations around social conventions, Head to Head proves to be an incredible statement on gender, political resistance and the power of small acts of defiance, making for a truly magnificent and deeply captivating satire.