Was there really a historical and cultural bond between Iran and Romania? Until watching Between Revolutions that possibility never even crossed my mind. But this personal and visualised exchange of letters between two friends sketches, both organically and lyrically, the connections and parallels between the dark histories of these two countries.
Between Revolutions is composed entirely from archive material, which is nothing new. Making history personal, as happens in this film, is not new either. But this documentary tells about a forgotten part of that history, a past shared by Iran and Romania. At the end of the last century – or millennium if you please – an academic exchange took place between the two countries. Iranian students were able to apply for place at universities in Romania, which was still communist at the time.
What both countries had in common is that they were under a heavy yoke: Romania under that of the megalomaniac Ceaucescu, and Iran under that of its shah. Yet the documentary starts with a sense of hope: with black and white archive shots of young people on the streets, laughing, talking, eating, drinking, smoking, dancing, dressed and cut in the latest fashion – like all modern young people in the seventies.
The music gives way to a female voice reciting a poem, stating that she misses someone. That someone turns out to be Zahra, who has gone back to Iran. From the correspondence that follows it becomes clear that Zahra had a good reason for this: she supported the imminent revolution against the shah and imperialism. The preparations for this are depicted with videos of the young, hip people handing out pamphlets and writing manifestos. There are barely any headscarves to be seen on the streets.
With the benefit of hindsight, it is hard to see those images and feel Zahra’s hope. “You know you have a voice because you’re needed,” she writes, unaware that that same voice will soon be silenced. The threat of the inescapable future is already made tangible in the music that accompanies the still cheerful images. And in the fear that emanates from the letters of Maria, who fights her own battle in Romania, where women are seen as labourers and incubators and men in long, black coats shadow any suspected dissonance.
You know how the history unfolds, but because of the structure of the documentary, which slowly makes you love the main characters, you keep hoping for a better outcome. The film makes the well-known events – the return of Khomeini, the fall of Ceaucescu, the subsequent reign of terror of the ayatollahs, the growth of brutal capitalism – highly personal, imperceptibly taking you on the rollercoaster of emotions experienced by the people who undergo these events.
In the editing of the archive, the distinction between the two countries is sometimes difficult to ascertain, which serves to reinforce the universality of the events. The struggle, the hope, the fear, the joy and the sorrow feel the same on both sides of this bridge of letters. Just like the loving friendship that shows in the words that are written.
The film is carefully assembled and has an organic sense of unity, achieved by the choice of images (the home video-like personal versus the historical archive), the music (from carefree and cheerful to deeply melancholic and distorted) and the voice-overs (in two languages, but the depth of emotions is always palpable).
Not only do you feel like you’ve rediscovered a history you thought you knew, you’ve also witnessed a special friendship, which makes it all the more special when you learn at the very end how and why the exchange of letters was initially set in motion.
Romania/Croatia/Qatar/Iran, 2023, 68 mins
Dir Vlad Petri
Screenplay Lavinia Braniște, Vlad Petri
Editing Dragoș Apetri, Cătălin Cristuțiu, Vlad Petri
Sound Filip Mureșan, Vlad Voinescu
Production Manager Elena Martin
Produced by Activ Docs
Producer Monica Lăzurean-Gorgan
Co-Production Restart
sWorld Sales CAT&Docs
