A History
Of Blackness in Iranian Cinema
A Journey through FilmFarsi to New-Wave
Hassan Siyah/ The black Hassan
Saz-Dahani/Harmonica
Kaka Siyah/ The Negro
Entezar/ The Waiting
Every country has its own “Blacks” [the marginalized, oppressed], Iran’s Blacks are “Afghans” wrote Turkish anthropologist and writer Nevval Sevindi (Çizgen) in her review of the movie Bicycle-ran/Cyclist (1987) by Mohsen Makhmalbaf .
Her statement clearly reveals the prevalent denial of histories and existence of Blacks and Afro-Iranians.
In this vein, Christina Sharpe rightly argues that the scholars of slavery and Blackness persistently “face absences in the archives” and “encounter myriad silences and ruptures in time, space, history, ethics, research, and method” [16] when encountering a past that buried the existence and “Black livingness” (McKittrick 186).
The paucity of archival documentation concerning slavery and the lived experiences of Afro-Iranians in Iran is exacerbated by a common trend observed in the historiography of slavery across various regions. Specifically, the historical narrative surrounding slavery and the Black community in Iran is predominantly constructed from bureaucratic or otherwise formalized records, which, regrettably, frequently not only fail to capture the nuanced perspectives and voices of the enslaved individuals themselves, but systematically work to erase and deny the ‘Black Livingness’.
The historiographical records are entrenched with institutional power structures, which facilitate both the creation of archives, their fetishization, and forms of subjectivation, while simultaneously rendering them obscure (Achille Mbembe
19-20; Anjali Arondekar 15). Recognizable barriers, such as the absence of comprehensive archival material and the ideological manipulation inherent in archival records, prompt scholars specializing in Black history, slavery, Iranian studies, and Middle Eastern and North African (MENA) research to propose innovative historiographical approaches. In this regard, I view this project as a partial response to this imperative to challenge traditional historiographical methods and what Sylvia Wynter has called our “narratively condemned status” (70). In so doing, I propose a novel perspective that positions Iranian cinema as an alternative media archive documenting the narratives of slavery and the Black experience.
methodology
Following Christina Sharpe, I am interested to find new ways of knowing that past, “in excess of the fictions of the archive” (17).I aim to look at the Iranian cinema as an archival site to explore the erased history of blackness in Iran and its on-screen representation. The cinematic archives constitute an important space to unravel “the agents buried beneath ”the accumulated erasures, projections, fabulations, and misnamings” (Sharpe 17), while offering a counter-space to re-act against the “epistemic violence” (Ansfield 125) in our knowledge about slavery and ‘Black being’ exerted through erasure and silence. Moreover, my goal is to offer an analysis of the problematic cultural and historic junctures imbricated in the creation of the re-presentations of Blackness and Afro-Iranians on screen, specifically post-slavery Iran’s denial of Black humanity. Moreover, I want to look at how nation, race, and gender figure in representation, following Hilda Lloréns’ concerns in Imaging the Great Puerto Rican Family.
In order for part of the past to be touched by the present instant, there must be no continuity between them.
Walter Benjamin, The Arcades Project
Approach to Archive
My project adheres to the premise that the archive represents just one avenue, a possibility, among many, and it does not stand as the definitive means of engaging with history. I challenge the assumption that extracting content [data mining] from archives inevitably leads to the discovery of truth. Instead, I employ a broader interpretation of the term ‘archive,’ emphasizing its flexible implications which denote the enabling conditions for understanding, possibilities for discovery, rather than merely a repository of information, or even more broadly, a hub of interpretation.
Instead of mining facts and producing history from cinematic archives, I look to cinema for ideas and possibilities to think about an erased history. Cinema doesn’t reveal facts about slavery and Backness in Iran as if it is relaying “regime of truth,” (Lloréns 86). Instead, it shows a deep connection, something ancient and fundamental that challenges the straightforward presentation of facts about Black experience in Iran. In its representations, cinema channels communication with the past.
Instead of lamenting the fragmented state of archives or the systematic absence concerning slavery in
Iran and the experiences of Afro-Iranians, I look to Iranian cinema, both commercial films (FilmFarsi) and art cinema (New Wave, alternative), as a space of introspection. This medium inherently fractures time and space, rendering it a fitting space for exploring the disjointed and fragmented history of slavery and the portrayal of blackness.
My research does not aim to provide a comprehensive history of black representation in Iranian cinema. Instead, it offers a concise overview, beginning in the late 1940s with FilmFarsi and concluding with the emergent New-Wave films in the 1970s and 1980s. The selected films from each era are chosen to showcase the various dimensions and approaches to construction of blackness in Iranian cinema, highlighting the complexity of representation, as Hilda Lloréns suggests, "the representational world is as contradictory and complex as the world of direct interaction" (11).
FilmFarsi
The emergence and subsequent flourishing of the Iranian popular film industry in the late 1940s and 1950s have largely been overlooked or even incriminated in both pre-revolutionary and post-revolutionary scholarship of Iranian cinema. Regarded as morally-depraved, vulgar, cheap, and second-rate copies and/or imitations of Hollywood, Indian, and Egyptian cinema, the domestic films of this era faced significant criticism during the 1950s (Partovi; Rekabtalaei; Askari). Eventually, they were scornfully labeled as “Film-Farsi” by the critic Houshang Kavousi. Within the nationalist discourse on cinema, which advocated for a more profound, philosophical, or art-house approach reflective of a progressive Iran, the eclectic productions of Film-Farsi found little acceptance among intellectual circles yet were largely popular for their mass audiences.
Siyah-
Bazi
PLAYING BLACK
One enduring and visually striking legacy of enslavement in Iran is siyah-bazi, which is prominently depicted and documented in Iranian cinematic archives, particularly within FilmFarsi productions.
Shabe-Quzi/ Night of the Hunchback (1965),
Farrokh Ghaffari
Siyah-bazi is a comedic sketch typically involving two men, one of whom dons black face paint, engaging in a verbal duel (Master-Slave dialectic) characterized by wit, political commentary, and humor. The character wearing the blackface assumes a clown-like persona and seeks to ridicule authority figures. Depicted as a carnivalesque figure representing the underdog from the working class, the blackface character elicits empathy from the audience through humor. Siyah-bazi is similar to Italian commedia dell’arte and Anglo- European blackface minstrelsy and shares similar controversies surrounding its portrayal of race.
Influenced by the stereotypes of Black eunuchs within the Persian Qajar court, who were subjected to enslavement and ridicule, the comedic performance-genre of Siyah-bazi/playing Black from pre-cinema period, became a prominent feature in FilmFarsi productions.
These films often portrayed scenes situated in coffeehouses and cabarets, where there existed a notable proximity between the female dancers and the Black persona, a testament to ravaging of both bodies and racial-gendered violence.
Moreover, these clown-like characters and their shows also identified the boundaries of what was normal within Iranian society, ridiculing enslaved Black people and their bodies alongside the female gendered body as an spectacle that created new orders of abnormality and hierarchical order.
Hassan Siyah/ Black Hassan (1973)
As I noted eralier, the FilmFarsi industry emerged during the late 1940s and experienced a zenith of popularity extending through the 1970s. Within this cinematic context, Siyah-bazi, or blackface performance, was relatively common on screen, notably within the settings of coffeehouses or cabarets. Consequently, the representation of blackness assumed a position of vulnerability akin to that of the working prostitute or cabaret dancer, juxtaposed against the phallocentric power dynamics, thereby imbuing them with a shared subjugation, as alluded to by their metaphorical castration, and relegating them to the status of narrative appendages, the props.
An example of Filmfarsi wherein Siyah-bazi assumes a significant presence is epitomized in Hassan Siyah/ The Black Hassan, directed by Parviz Osanloo and released in 1972. In this film, the titular character, Hassan Siyah, runs the “Hassan Siyah Art Agency” where his acting troupe perform blackface shows at weddings and other events.
The Black Hassan
In this sequence, the cinematic portrayal of blackness reveals a complex interplay of themes encompassing race, slavery, class, sexuality, and gender. The inherent racial exoticism evident in these aesthetic representations is exemplified by the transformation of White Iranian actors through blackened face by makeup, symbolizing Iranian nationalist ideology within the broader historical context of Blackface performances and the enduring global discourse on whiteness and Aryanism. Additionally, linguistic elements such as the distorted and obsequious Persian speech employed to mimic abnormality of black dialects in relation to the standard Persian, alongside the comedic portrayal of male bodies cross-dressing as women, further contribute to the multifaceted nature of these portrayals. These representations are intricately interwoven with narratives that depict vulnerability and imposed violence, particularly through the juxtaposition of these characters with marginalized members of society, such as lower-class female performers or prostitutes. Moreover, these characters (The black, and female performer) often serve as symbolic guardians of phallocentrism and gender norms, that is, the image of castrated women and black eunuchism of slavery.
The story revolves around Reza and unnamed his black friend, who is of African-Iranian descent. During a theft, they are caught, and Reza’s friend is killed while attempting to escape, and his wife Nahid dies during childbirth. In a flashback, we see Nahid’s father disowns her for marrying a black man. Years later, Ali, the orphaned son known as Kaka-siyah (Persian racial slur equivalent to The Negro), crosses paths with Reza, who takes care of him. With the help of Qasem and Parvaneh, Reza engages in taking care of orphaned children and forcing them into theft. When Ali is caught stealing from a man who happens to be his maternal grandfather, the old man promises to take care of him. But Parviz, the grandfather’s relative, separates Ali from him to inherit his wealth. Despite Reza and Parvaneh’s efforts to prove Ali’s lineage, they are unsuccessful. When they manage to convince the old man, Qasem kidnaps Ali. Reza and Parvaneh trap them, and eventually, the grandfather and his grandson start a new life together.
Kaka-Siyah/
The Negro
Kaka-Siyah/ The Negro is a commercial film directed by Amir Shervan and produced in 1973.
The titular Kaka-Siyah refers to the orphaned son of Nahid and unnamed Afro-Iranian character who met a tragic fate during a police-chase involving theft alongside Reza. He is portrayed through “the stereotype of Black criminality” (Hubbard 3) in Hollywood films. Notably, the actor portraying the unnamed character remains uncredited in the film’s opening credits. The orphaned son (the other black character), referred to as Ali or “Kaka-Siyah,” is inadequately acknowledged by his full name, as evidenced by the colloquial monikers “Ali Baba/Daddy Ali.”
The flashback sequence [uploaded above] evokes Nahid’s memories wherein she is watching the unnamed Afro-Iranian character who happens to be her lover amidst a cabaret setting, where he performs as the vocalist accompanied by female dancers. Despite the archival limitations manifested in fragmented film negatives and diminished audio quality, discernible features emerge, notably the African-American “R&B” music performance intertwined with white female dancers wearing bikinis with Afro hair wigs with a weird dance performance, adding to the exotic and eroticized spectacle of Blackness.
Following the performance, Nahid and the unnamed Afro-Iranian lover are discovered, engaged in an intimate moment in the dressing room, by Nahid’s father, who proceeds to admonish his daughter for her affection toward “ye siyahe kasife khareji,” translating to a derogatory term for a Black Dirty foreigner.
In response, the unnamed suitor respectfully challenges the father's assumption, asserting, “Man Khareji nistam agha,” meaning “I am not a foreigner, Sir.” The father then questions, “Pas chetor avaz Mikhoondi,” indicating confusion regarding the suitor’s ability to sing in a foreign language, likely English. Reza intervenes, clarifying that the suitor is of Iranian origin and merely sang in another language.
Despite this clarification, Nahid’s father issues an ultimatum, demanding that she sever ties with the unnamed lover or face disinheritance. In defiance, Nahid refuses, and her unnamed Black suitor vows to marry her, thereby illuminating his motive for engaging in theft alongside Reza: to secure the means to marry Nahid and start a family with her.
The father’s reaction, as depicted in the selected sequence, reflects deeply ingrained racial biases and prejudices against Black people within Iranian society. His immediate disdain upon discovering his daughter’s affection for the unnamed lover is evidenced by his derogatory language (“ye siyahe kasife khareji”), which not only dehumanizes the suitor but also underscores the father’s perception of Blackness as inherently undesirable and foreign.
Furthermore, the father’s fixation on the suitor’s ability to sing in a foreign language (“Pas chetor avaz Mikhoondi”) reflects a cultural expectation that Iranians, particularly those of non-Persian descent, should conform to a homogenized standard of Iranian identity—one that privileges Persian language and culture while marginalizing or erasing other cultural and linguistic identities within the country.
His threat to disown Nahid if she continues her relationship with her lover, and later the challenging and tragic life that their orphaned son goes through demonstrate the extent to which racial prejudices can influence familial dynamics and decisions in Iranian society. His ultimatum underscores the pervasive nature of anti-Blackness and highlights the significant social and familial barriers that Afro-Iranians face in navigating their identities and relationships within Iranian communities.
Amir Shervan’s Kaka Siyah/ The Negro is a significant film of the FilmFarsi industry, departing notably from prevailing on-screen representations of Blackness characterized by Siyah-bazi/ the black play, exemplified by Parviz Osanloo’s Hassan Siyah/ The Black Hassan. Unlike its predecessors, Kaka Siyah deviates from caricatured portrayals of Blackness, opting instead to illuminate the historical injustices and systemic racial violence endured by Afro-Iranians. Through the poignant camera lens focusing on the tragic plight of the unnamed Black lover and his orphaned son Ali, the film exposes the harsh realities of a society that systematically marginalizes and devalues Afro-Iranians.
However, it is important to acknowledge certain shortcomings within the film, such as the improper crediting of a pivotal child actor and the absence of acknowledgment for the performer portraying the unnamed black lover in opening credits. These oversights contribute to a broader pattern of erasure and devaluation, further exacerbating the systemic marginalization experienced by Afro-Iranians.
Nevertheless, Kaka Siyah is an important filmic archive which is a noteworthy testament and endeavor to highlight the enduring presence of Afro-Iranians within the multifaceted and heterogeneous Iranian social fabric. It represents a significant departure from prevailing tendencies that promote a “Perso and ethnocentric body politic,” which often aligns with Eurocentric nationalist ideologies in Iran (Vafa 142). Such ideologies historically sought to relegate Black Iranians to the status of the ‘non-Persian Other,‘ thereby perpetuating exclusionary narratives and reinforcing oppressive power dynamics.
Ultimately, Kaka Siyah serves as both a cinematic achievement and a socio-cultural intervention, challenging dominant narratives while affirming the longstanding and diverse presence of Afro-Iranians in Iranian society.
Alternative cinema and the new wave
Iranian filmmakers embarked on advocating. for the mergence of an “alternative cinema,” aspiring to produce cinematic works that could stand shoulder to shoulder with prominent Global trends such as Italian neorealism, French New Wave and the Third Cinema of the 1960s and 1970s. In the late 1950s, these young directors, including important figures such as Farrokh Ghaffari, and Fereydoon Rahnema, endeavored to establish an arthouse cinema as a departure from the dominant FilmFarsi industry, which became a precursor to the new wave cinema. Their efforts were fueled by the professionalization of the film industry, the ambitions of filmmakers and critics, and the calls for a socially engaged art cinema that emerged in the preceding decades (Rekabtalaei 242-246). This endeavor aimed to cultivate a far-from-vulgarity-cinema, wherein the form of the film mirrored its content, portraying a modern sensibility.
Various terms were employed to articulate this cinematic vision, including “Young Cinema,” “Indigenous Cinema,” “New Cinema of Iran,” “Pure Intellectual Cinema,” “Public Artistic Cinema,” and a “Socially-Oriented Cinema” (Rekabtalaei 246). These terminologies, circulated within the filmmaking community, sought to encapsulate a cinema distinct from the mainstream industry, emphasizing its commitment to realist cinematic language and innovative filmmaking techniques. Characterized by its visual, textual, and productional distinctiveness, this cinema deliberately aimed to distance itself from the conventions of popular filmmaking. Established in 1967, the Centre for the Intellectual Development of Children and Young Adults (Kanoon) operated as a semi-governmental institution actively supporting and advocating for the growth of the alternative and New Wave film industry in Iran.
The
New Wave
[The movement] constituted acts of resistance both against the dominant commercial film [F]arsi cinema and against the authoritarian political system. Undoubtedly, this cinema and its influence on the intelligentsia and the student population was one of the sparks that ignited the revolution. This influence did not occur in a vacuum. Rather, it was part of the emerging formations, dispositions, contingencies, discourses, and microphysics of power and protest that amplified each other rhizomatically. (Naficy 404)
The emergence of Iranian New Wave cinema unfolded along two principal trajectories: one characterized by the production of introspective and abstract art films, while the other embraced narratives with pronounced social commentary, often incorporating elements from the FilmFarsi genre. Filmmakers belonging to the New Wave generation demonstrated a profound comprehension of cinematic artistry, drawing significant inspiration from contemporary Iranian literature. Consequently, a defining feature of Iranian New Wave cinema lies in its deep connection with contemporary literature.
Amir Naderi
Emancipating the Image: Blackness at the epicenter of Amir Naderi’s films,
Saz-Dahani/Harmonica and Entezar/Waiting (1974)
Amir Naderi is considered one of the influential and significant directors of the Iranian New Wave and Neo-Realist cinema. Naderi’s infatuation with the world of cinema and theater began during his childhood, where he worked in cinema and theater halls. His interest in cinema and theater grew from the age of 12 when he started watching foreign films in the cinemas of Abadan.
Through self-directed learning and engagement with film criticism and critics, he gradually entered the world of cinema. Having lost his father before his birth and his mother at the age of six, he lived under the care of his aunt alongside his older brother. He gained various experiences such as selling snacks in front of cinemas, managing cinema halls, and operating projectors in Abadan.
Naderi was raised in the diverse ethno-racial landscape of southern Iran, encompassing Persians, Qashqais, Sistanis, Balochis, Arabs, and Afro-Iranians. His films often depict vignettes from his childhood and life in southern Iran.
Naderi remarks, “By creating these films, which draw inspiration from the depths of my childhood, I found my path in this profession, which later propelled me to create films such as The Waiting and Runner. These three films have become a trilogy of my childhood. I attribute the inspiration for this trilogy to films such as The 400 Blows and The Apu Trilogy by Satyajit Ray and Los Olvidados by Buñuel. Watching these films helped me find my own path.”
“Saz Dahani/Harmonica and The Waiting are set in southern Iran, the land where I grew up, and was made while working with children who had never seen a camera before.”
Naderi’s films are almost plotless, like Michelangelo Antonioni’s. He works with a minimum of events and characters in relation to an environment that shapes the narrative. Yet, unlike Antonioni, who focuses on middle-class women, the central figure in Naderi’s films is a poverty-stricken young Afro-Iranian or Southern-Iranian man, or a boy on the verge of manhood struggling with survival in a ruthless, brutal world of economic and emotional deprivation.
I argue that Naderi aims at producing an alternative cinema—alternative in narrative, style, and practice—to the dominant FilmFarsi, and the larger American model,
which routinely displayed insensitivity, ignorance,
and defamation in its on-screen depictions of Black Iranians.
Saz -Dahani/ Harmoica (1974)
Set along the sun-drenched southern coast of Iran, "Harmonica" unfolds with a young boy receiving a harmonica from his father, who works on ships bringing cargos from abroad. Intrigued and envious, his friends vie for the chance to hold the harmonica or play a few notes, ultimately agreeing to make him their leader. Among them, Amiroo stands out, gentle yet determined, willing to go to great lengths to be near the harmonica and its owner. The film skillfully portrays the darker aspects of childhood, where innocent games and playful antics gradually give way to a more sinister undercurrent of cruelty.
Saz-Dahani/Harmonica serves as an archival record of the everyday existence of black Iranians in southern Iran, highlighting the impact of poverty, systemic oppression, and limited access to resources and employment opportunities on their lives.
Amir Nadari portrays a culturally vibrant community that has faced suppression and victimization, yet remains an integral part of Iran’s diverse society. In doing so, Naderi is resisting against the ideological conception of “whiteness” according to which dogma, prevalent in Eurocentric discourses of nationalism, Persians are deemed racially superior to their regional neighbors in the Muslim world and larger MENA region, and are thus affiliated with the Aryans of Europe.
Through his cinematic oeuvres, Nadari showcases the long-lasting link between Iran and Africa dating back to the Achaemenid dynasty in 550 BC, exemplified through the musical and dance traditions of southern Iran, deeply influenced by the customs and heritage of Iranians of African descent.
The Waiting (1974)
The Waiting, directed and written by Amir Nadari, is a production of the Center for Intellectual Development of Children and Young Adults (Kanoon) which was supporting the new-wave cinema and young directors. This film is the beginning of Naderi’s artistic experiments with poetic expression using a minimal approach.
Alberto Barbera, former director of the Venice Film Festival and the National Museum of Cinema in Turin, Italy, who had showcased a collection of Amir Nadari’s works in 2006, considered Waiting as Naderi’s best film: “It’s impossible to imagine that this purely modern avant-garde film was made 32 years ago.”
The story: Young, sensitive Afro-Iranian boy from Southern Iran appears at the home of a rich neighbour. Through a crack in a door, a beautiful pair of female hands offer him a portion of ice in a crystal bowl. Slowly, the boy develops an emotional attachment to the beautiful hands that borders upon obsession. In the final scene he goes to the door expecting to see the beautiful hands of the mystery woman, only to be offered a bowl of ice by hands that are old and gnarled. The Waiting was hailed by critics as one of the most visually striking films in the history of Iranian cinema.
Nadari works with light and reflections in The Waiting. From the brilliance of sunlight on the glass bowl in a specific time of the day, signaling the turmoil within the young boyhis thirst and his uncharted desires. Nadari consistently engages with the dance of light in water, whether it’s a bowl of water or an old Black man’s mesmerized gaze at the sea during sunset, all serving as visual cinematic concepts for him to capture the ineffable.
The Waiting is not a film of poetry but always translates poetic aesthetics into visual language to expand the dimensions of turmoil and the sexual experience of an Iranian-African boy, a portrayal rarely seen in cinema. The heart of the film lies in the everyday experiences of a black boy erased from narratives and history, rediscovered through Amir Nadari‘s lens.
"The Waiting tells the coming-of-age story of a black Iranian boy. The film itself is an allegory. Nadari consistently refers the boy to his old age in his days of turmoil. Immediately after the first scene of the boy holding hands with a girl, he looks at the hands of his elderly aunt, passing a bowl to her husband. By the sea, he watches the sunset and shortly after, sees an elderly black man gazing at the waves, presumably waiting for the same sunset.
Simultaneously, in Bushehr (a city in Southern Iran where Afro-Iranians live), Nadari saw a similar fate. People constantly seeing their destinies ahead of them. The Waiting is a like narrative told by Marco Polo to Kublai Khan, much like Italo Calvino’s Invisible Cities. All of this, of course, must culminate in the final scene of the film. The interpretation of the final scene is the interpretation of the boy's destiny in a hostile and oppressive environment. Having traversed a fiery path in the film, he has now reached his ultimate end, prematurely. And this premature ending is chilling. Nadari is also an illustrator of fears. The boy now faces an old and frail hand as if he has been asking for that bowl of ice every afternoon to reach his old age. The film is entirely about Bushehr, where everyone is waiting. The youth wait for old age, and the elders wait for youth.
There’s also a close link between The Waiting and Patricio Guzmán’s Nostalgia for the Light. Guzmán explores the roots of suffering in Chile by tracing the nature of light and its impact throughout history. From stars and prehistory to the bones of victims of the Pinochet coup, he eventually arrives at contemporary times and the suffering and waiting of the victims’ mothers.
Guzmán sees in Chile what Nadari sees in Bushehr. The only difference lies in the scales. One delves into the history of a country’s suffering from the beginning of creation, while the other roams only in the geography of his childhood, wandering the alleys of an old city. But one could easily swap their places. There’s no difference between the Atacama Desert and the alleys of Bushehr. The Atacama is the driest desert in the world, and The Waiting is the thirstiest film.