Dariush Asadzadeh

Audio of the Entire Interview

Interview Transcript

Part 01


In Dialogue with Dariush Asadzadeh
Part 1
The Journey from Early years into youth

During the First World War my father was taken captive in Hamedan.

After 14 months when the war had ended, he goes to the city of Sarakhs

and looks for a job at the eastern war brigade, where he was recognized and got a position.

He met with the daughter of one of the officers and got married there and then.

He was transferred to Kermanshah where I was born on the 23rd of November 1923.

After 5, 6 years he was transferred to Tehran, My father was from Tehran, his home was in Adib ol-Mamalek Street.

We lived there and went to a school called Tarraqi nearby.

I then went to Tejarat [1934-1935] School for my secondary education;

I had already become interested in Arts, now why?

Because from my early teens my father would encourage me by taking me to Sa’adat theater in Cheraagh bargh Street in Pamenar

which would be an open air theatre over the three months of summer.

They would do lots of Siah-Bazi plays, and you know how humorous those traditional plays were,

we would go for a good laugh and time well spent. This was part of the reason why I became interested.

So when I acquired my high school Diploma, I got into acting school in 1940 without my father knowing.

Let me tell you this as well, my father was completely against me going into acting,

when he found out he was fuming with anger, he even kicked me out of the house,

cut the story short my aunts and uncles intervened and I went back home. He talked to me after a few days and said to me

“you must become a person of position and rank in this country, what you have gone into is not cut out for you”.

Reza Shah had ordered at the time that anyone admitted into the military academy must be the son of an officer.

My father was so he sent me to the military high school and my brother to the military elementary school.

I could not tolerate it for more than two days, I left the second day.

We had to be home by 4 or 5 pm. I was never home by that time.

From 8 am to 2 pm and then from 2 till 4 pm I would attend high school. And then from 4 to 8 pm I would be at art school.

My father would ask my mother where I was, and she would say that ‘he is studying with his friends’.

It was obvious after a few days that we couldn’t be studying.

When he found out, he got angry again and threw me out of the house again.

I stayed with my uncle for a while till I went back and stopped attending art school.

At The Officers’ Academy, they wore very nice uniforms, I got interested and enrolled,

we had to take physical tests, I was healthy and got in.

I went home and told my mom that I would be leaving on the coming Saturday as I had enrolled at The Officers’ Academy that was also a boarding school.

She said “have you told your father?” I said no, she said “tell him” and I told her I couldn’t.

He was sitting in the next room, she went and told him.

He got angry again, shouting and screaming, “you ought to be ashamed, you want to become an officer?

You want to stand at junctions and go like this (making gestures) is that what you want to do?”,

so that I couldn’t do either (chuckles). Whatever I wanted to do he was against it.

I had to go through the same thing for music school as well.

Before going to music school, I worked during the summers, [interviewer: where?] at a pharmacy.

I had saved up and bought a violin with my money.

I had gone to lessons with Reza Mahjoubi, late father of the musician Mahjoubi, and had learnt pieces without reading notes.

There was one that went like ‘the boogeyman will eat me up, I can hear him come so I will hide…’ .

One day when my dad was not home, he was supposed to be at work, and my mother was in the other room, I was practicing,

when all of a sudden he walked in and saw me singing and playing my instrument, he stood there staring at me and said

“so the boogeyman will eat you up huh? Are you really not ashamed of yourself? I just know you are going to become a cheap musician”,

he grabbed my violin, now you have to remember I had worked from dawn to dusk for three months to buy it and he did not know,

he broke it, and then ran after me to hit me too but I escaped. I cried.

But then later when I went to acting school, he had become tired of it all and so he did not say anything to stop me.

[Starless Man, directed by Azizollah Bahadori]

In 1938 a resolution was passed for Intellectual development, this was aimed for the ‘enlightenment of public thoughts and opinions’

by which they would talk to people in speeches and presentations and familiarize them with the notions this act involved.

Part of it was dedicated to ‘plays’,

Seyyed Ali Nasr who was from a respectable background, had introduced the idea of Iranian Comedy in 1926,

when this resolution was passed, Nasr became headmaster of the school of Acting and Drama,

which was located in Lalehzar, and was founded in 1939.

There were individuals at the time who had been very active in theatre productions who became mentors and teachers at this school;

for example musician Rokneddin Mokhtari, Fazlollah Baygan, Moezz-Divan Fekri,

Rafi’ Halati who went by the pseudonym Hajjar [pictured with Ali Asghar Garmsiri] who was a mentee of Kamal-ol-Molk,

there were many who had worked in theatre and drama, and before them were people like Akhoundzade and Tabrizi,

they all became our tutors at the School of Acting and drama, and directed plays at the same time,

Moezz-Divan Fekri was the son of Moadab-ol-Mamalek, a renowned writer and journalist,

these tutors were all exceptional and respectable individuals, he knew music, he knew notes, he knew theatre; this is what are tutors were like.

At lessons, he would teach us music, violin, notes, décor and set,

I remember for an exam each of us were to make a model and bring in,

I was asked to make the model of Emperor Kourosh’s tomb,

I got Eremurus as glue, there wasn’t much more at the time, with card

and went home and sat to make it from the beginning of the night till nearly 4 or 5 in the morning,

it looked ok, it was cold and I left on the shelf to dry and fell asleep at the early hours of the morning.

When I woke up I found the model had dried and crumpled up.

I was shocked and thought to myself, ‘what should I take? This is not Kourosh’s tomb’,

I thought I will just go and tell the truth and say that I honestly tried but couldn’t do better with what I had. So I went.

Everyone was called one by one and was given a grade, when it was my turn he asked me ‘what is this?’

I said with fear ‘it’s Kourosh’s tomb’ and he replied back ‘Kourosh’s tomb or your father’s tomb? [laughs];

I said it turned out like this despite I tried my best, believe me sir I worked from 7 pm to dawn on it.

He gave me 7 and said ‘this is because you tried’, we were quite fearful of our tutors.

Seyyed Ali Nasr taught us literature and the History of theatre, each one had their own specialty.

[part of the film ‘Safe journey’ directed by Dariush Moadabbian]

I graduated and meanwhile to gain my father’s consent, I enrolled the Ministry of Finance’s high school [Diploma Pictured],

when I finished I became the head of the warranties branch of the ministry, I was very young, about 21 years old,

at the time through connections I was to become the head of Qazvin’s department of Finance,

when I went to get my transfer order signed the director looked at me and said

“who you can handle this position, I don’t think this is the right job for you, this needs someone experienced, you want to become the head of Qazvin Department?”,

I said to him “who do you think won the war in World War 2? It was all the young Russian Generals who did”

he said “get out, get out” and crossed and cancelled the order.

I did go in the end though when another minister came, I persevered and insisted, I was young.

I worked for 24 years, and there were so many work opportunities for me in the arts, cinema and theater that I resigned and retired.

Interviewer: You went to university as well?

Yes I did.

Interviewer: which one?

School of Law.

Interviewer: when was that?


when I worked at the ministry of finance, I had opportunities that supported my endeavors, I became inspector in Zabol, or head buyer of grains,

I was constantly travelling and my expenses were paid for, I was paid by the kilometer as well as I travelled,

and so instead I couldn’t excel at law school and so couldn’t carry on.

Although I went back later on and succeeded.

Anyhow, I then wrote and directed theatre plays, I wrote about 20,

and I still have the relevant licenses and documentation for them which I had acquired from the Ministry of Arts and Culture.

I also acted in 200 plays.

When Tehran Theater opened, before that there was no proper theater,

writers like Saeed Nafisi, Mohammad Ali Foroughi, would translate foreign plays

and others like Fekri and Baygan would bring them on stage for a night or two at Circus Hall or Atabak Hall which is now part of the Embassy of Russia.

All these individuals didn’t do this for the money,

Mr. Halati himself had written once of a play he took to stage for two nights with minor and minimal outcome

he did not know how to split between those involved.

In 1940 when Seyyed Ali Nasr founded the School of Drama, there was a hall that belonged to Grand Hotel,

he hired that hall and founded Tehran Theater there and then.

The grand Hotel building belonged to someone called Bagher Khan (Baggirov),

the hall was similar to that of Khorshid cinema situated in Islambul street,

it was built by the Russians, in an oval form and divided into stalls,

this hall, Tehran theater became the main base for theater in Iran, it was the first permanent theater founded.

And at the time people were still unfamiliar with theatrical drama and they had only ever experienced traditional Iranian plays,

so they would hardly ever go to the theater.

In order to attract them, music played a great role,

and it was mainly Moezz-Divan Fekri’s idea as he was a musician,

he would write the music and lyrics himself, and this made it more appealing to people.

They would usually use pieces by Molière as they were the most adaptable to Iranian taste,

for example ‘The Miser (L’Avare)’ or ‘The Bourgeois Gentleman (Le Bourgeois Gentilhomme) and so forth.

So people were gradually familiarized with the idea of the theater.

Later graduates of the School of Theater and Drama would get together and find other theaters in Lalehzar for example, Gohar theater or Honar theater;

with Dehqan theater there was a different story to it, Initially when Lalehzar became a cultural hub, Dehqan did not exist,

at the time Seyyed Ali Nasr had become more popular and became Iran’s ambassador to China and Pakistan,

his positions were sensitive so he left the management of Tehran theater to his Deputy Mr. Dehqan,

who had attend an art school founded by Ovanes Ohanian [pictured] founded in 1928.

So Nasr had appointed him as his deputy because he was familiar with artistic notions.

Around 1952 when Nasr was delegated his mission to China, Dehqan took over.

Dehqan was a very clever person, he had bought a journal from Mr. Halat called ‘Tehran Mosavvar’ (Tehran in pictures) and became director of that journal later,

he made lots of connections and also managed to find links to the royal court. He was later killed over a different issue.

There is a little street down Lalehzar which has now become the marketplace for electric goods,

which was home to the acting school that we attended.

There was a big garden that was owned by Ala-oddoleh, the school was right next to it.

At the time, unlike these days there were no ventilation facilities so during the summer, Tehran Theater had to stay closed.

So what they did was they turned that garden into an open air theater for the hot season.

Therefore when Dehqan was killed, they named that location after him.

[pictured from right to left, first row: Rafi’ Halati, Moezz-Divan Fekri, Esmail Mehrtash, Enayatollah Shabani, Molouk Zarrabi, Ne’mat Moayyeri; 2nd row: Nosrat Karimi, Ms. Fekri, Iran DaftariForough Sahami, Ruqayyeh Chehreh Azad, Jamshid Sheybani,m Garmsiri, Ms. Sfavi, Sahahin Far, Hamid Ghanbari; 3rd row: Tabesh, Iran Ghaderi, Amini, Eshraghi, Ms. Loreta, Rouhbakhsh, Shahla Riahi, Majid Mohseni; 4th row: Morteza Ahmadi, Sarhang Shab-Pareh, Oskoui, Ghadakshian, Abbas Zahedi, Esmail Riahi; 5th row: Beheshti, Badri Hourfar- Mofid]

The first play I ever did was with Moezz-Divan Fekri, it was a comedy narration of Leyli & Majnun,

Leyli had gone to heaven and Majnun was stuck in hell, I had to go from hell to heaven.

We didn’t have as much to work with like nowadays.

For me they had taken a stick, put a concave tin on top which held within it a piece of oiled cotton wool,

I would barge towards the set which was made to look like heaven holding that thing lit up.

In those days sets were not equipped like the ones today, there weren’t so many projectors in all directions.

There were a few fixed lamps on the edge of the stage and some fixed on the ceiling lighting up the many drapes which were hanging.

As I was walking on stage, and I was quite tall, I didn’t realize that the flame had caused fire to one of the drapes,

I moved towards the back of the stage and noticed chuckles from the crowd,

I thought to myself I must have done something they liked,

so moving forward all the drapes caught fire one by one,

and you could see that suddenly the crowd of spectators started escaping the theater all together.

Now the person in charge of the curtains and drapes should have pulled them up at the very beginning but he had gone to smoke a cigarette at the back.

He realized very late that he had to do something but all the people had left already [chuckles]

I was looking at it all in shock not knowing that in fact I had caused the fire,

Dehqan came to and angrily said don’t you realize you shouldn’t hold this flame so high,

and I said how I am supposed to know especially with the act I was supposed to do;

now this was my first time on stage which I will never forget.

I stayed at Tehran Theater and did all my work there for 30 years,

I became manager both for Tehran and Nasr theaters, until the events that pushed me to leave.

Part 02


In Dialogue with Dariush Asadzadeh
Part 2
Life in America, Returning and continuing to work in Iran

In 1955, a letter was received from Paris, They had asked for someone to take part in the Paris Festival,

the letter was received by the Department of National Arts, which at the time was run by Mehrdad Pahlbod (pictured),

there weren’t that many artists or actors at the time.

The only theater at the time was Tehran Theater, whom we acted for;

I (pictured center), Houshang Saarang (left), Sadegh Bhrami (right), Badri Hourfar (Bottom right), Niktaj Sabri (left) and Iran Ghaderi (center), Ms. Jhahanbakhsh.

I was older than them all and more experienced.

Tehran Theater wrote to the Department of Arts and suggested me for the festival.

They requested a three month leave for me from the Ministry of Economic Affairs so that I could travel to France to attend the Paris festival for the first time.

I had a carte blanche which allowed me to go to the theaters and cinemas there as I pleased.

When I came back I started directing plays.

I also worked for the national radio which was an independent entity at the time.

I was invited to work there. I presented the night time programs until I got into a quarrel with someone and resigned.

Interviewer: were you working at the Ministry of Economic Affairs simultaneously?

Yes I was.

[pictured: Radio Iran from right to left: Sadegh Bahrami, Mahdi Alimohammadi, Azar Pazhouhesh, Ghadakchian, Bahmanyar, Saremi, Iran Bozorgmehr, Abbas Mosaddegh, Parviz Bahram, Zhaleh Olov, Parviz Bahador. Seated: Touran Mehrzad and Bahador Sarang]

It was in 1967, that a friend of mine who had entered the world of Cinema in America, and had found a producer,

called me and said that he wanted to make an Iranian film, he had migrated from Iran.

His name was Ghaem-Maghami, and asked me whether I could go to help him,

he also told me to take a cinematographer and an actress with me.

I took Faranak Mirghahhari and Reza Mojaveri.

We selected people from a book provided to us by the Minneapolis society of actors.

I read the script and found it slightly weak. We revised it.

I would also tell Mojaveri where to place his camera.

I had comments on lighting too.

We had visitors from different journals on set.

One of them had written an article saying that ‘a group have come from Iran to make a film,

amongst them an individual who writes, directs, acts and more’ (laughs),

Anyhow, we made the film and screened it in Iran as well

[pictured: “It Happened in the USA” directed by Hassan Heward & Javad Ghaemmaghami- written by Dariush Asadzadeh & Javad Ghaemmaghami 1971]

We had rented a building in Sezavar Street for 10 thousand Tomans which was a large amount of money those days,

our rent was paid by the Ministry of Arts, it was our syndicate,

I think we have 20 to 30 different cinematic organizations and groups today, actors, directors makeup artists,

but those days there was only one, a film had to be submitted only through us to the Ministry of Arts and Culture.

The 3 storey building had to be furnished, and this was done and shared amongst artists.

For example Fardin bought all the carpets; The library was furnished by Sepehrnia,

there was a large area for dining which needed china and cutlery etc. which I bought

pictured: articles of the time on the Syndicate’s work

pictured: Houshang Hosseini, Mansour Sepehrnia, Mohammad Motevasselani, Garsha Raoufi at the Artists’ Syndicate in Sezavar Street

Ali Abbasi and Mohammad Ali Fardin in the mid 70’s

Interviewer: and were you still working at the Ministry of Finance?

I was

Interviewer: when did you retire?


Prior to the 1979 revolution I moved abroad with my children and stayed for about 10 years.

My children had become excessively interested in my work, and we were always arguing as they wanted to come on set,

they were only 7 or 8 and had lost focus at school, I thought my work isn’t necessarily the kind of thing I want my kids to get into which is why I made the decision.

So we went to America, which I had experienced before.

I started from a gas station mini market then opened a food market,

and however much I worked I found that it was not enough, I was making about 2000 dollars a month,

and after 18 years of professional work it wasn’t satisfying,

I thought I could earn more doing manual labor, I had capital lying, with employees to pay.

There were disagreements between the Iranian oil company and America, At the time Iran-US relations had gone down,

it was the time of the hostage takings in Tehran, so regulating bodies were really hard on us,

if there was a cigarette butt lying somewhere in the gas station landings, or spilt petrol or water, the inspectors would mark it as breech of standards

or they would ask me why there was weed growing on the roof, they would cling on to every little thing to disrupt my work.

I lost money on that business. I also had a great loss on a loan I got from the Bank of America, it was for $1million with a 9% interest rate.

When I reached the point where I knew these small businesses would not work out,

I thought of investing in real estate as it was known to be profitable at the time.

So I started buying land in Westlake Village near Los Angeles, as close as Karaj is to Tehran,

I bought a house for $300k for myself as well.

[film showing where Asadzadeh lived in 1979, part of a documentary by Ebrahim Shafiei called ‘Life and nothing else’]

It was during Carter’s presidency, it was a time of recession in America,

so when more and more people were inclined towards property investment,

the interest rates on loans were raised from 9 to 12%,

after three or four months it was increased to 15%, then 18% then 20%, 22%

and when it reached 25% it suddenly caught me off guard.

I gave away all of my savings, because if you couldn’t pay off the loan,

the bank would sell the house after three or four years and I would lose all credit,

so I prepared myself to sell my $300k house for $200k just so I could pay the bank, and still no buyers would come along.

I made a film on this issue, did you ever see it? If you do you will cry.

I was in immense trouble, I couldn’t sleep at night,

and sometimes I would be up two nights in a row, thinking ‘what have I done?

Having brought two kids to this country, I ruined my life, what will I do?’,

I had sold everything, even my shop, and used all my credit limits,

I went to one of the shops that I had sold to a Korean for 70 or 80 thousand dollars,

he was happy to see me, they are very good people, he took me inside and went to get me a coffee,

I didn’t have cigarettes, I stole one. ‘Life and nothing more’.

Interviewer: so did you leave to go back to Iran?

Yes.

Interviewer: did you leave your children behind?

[Pictured Arash and Kourosh Asadzadeh] I had $50k that I left for them.

Interviewer: When did you return?

In 1986

[part of a documentary by Ebrahim Shafiei called ‘Life and nothing else’] My Children never really asked for me or showed any affection,

even now, they don’t seem to think that I ever had a father, someone who took them there (America) or cared for them,

I wrote at the beginning of one of my books ‘To my dear Arash and Kourosh, undocumented creditors, that our encounter might extent to the hereafter’ and it is true,

but they don’t even write or call, or think they had a father once, how heartless can man be, how filthy.

I wish them both health wherever they are, and happiness.

Interviewer: When was your first marriage, with?

I married Homa Shahrokhi, she was a Qajar descendant from a large family, and she was a unique lady. We separated

Interviewer: why was that?

She was too young, She was upset for me, I was not.

After I returned from America I went to see her, we spoke, we were very amicable, but separated of course.

Interviewer: When was your second marriage?

In 1967 with Soheila Ghazaali (pictured), She is still in America.

[Pictured: Dariush Asadzadeh with his third wife, Tahereh Khatoon Mirzaee]

Interviewer: After your return you also went to Khaneh Cinema (the Iranian Alliance of Motion picture guild), the Actors Guild of Iranian Cinema, can you tell me a bit about that?

I was the head of the guild, in 2001, before that I was on the board of directors, but it was quite stressful for me.

I had started writing in 1946/7, mainly on the subject of theater,

I used to read a lot, and so gradually I thought of writing scripts myself,

as I was experienced both in directing and acting, so I would write and get the appropriate permits from the Ministry of Arts to take my scripts on stage.

Especially when I went abroad, I focused more on people’s way of life, in terms of economy etc.;

I would compare Iranians to them in different terms,

so when I came back I thought of some ideas for writing books.

There was a common misconception that theater had started since the reign of Buyid Dynasty with Ta’zieh,

I disagreed because the definition of theater is not just to go on stage and play something out,

we have had the concept of the theater since ancient Iranians ruled, the Sassanids or the Parthian Empire even.

Theater consists of impromptu dialogues, dancing, literary ideas,

so I wrote a book on The History of Iranian Theater from before Islam to 1979.

When I was protested for not writing about after the 1979 revolution

I simply said that I hadn’t been in Iran in those years,

I had experienced the theater since when I got to know myself, my early youth in 1935,

and later on when the permanent theater was established,

and so I proved that we had theater since the days of ancient Iran.

My second book involved more history, not only of Iran but more of Europe too,

and the third was about Tehran Theater, since its birth in 1940 when I was present,

I had worked there for 30 years as actor, writer, director, till I went abroad.

My fourth book which will soon be out published, had a lot on Lalehzar,

I wrote about the old city of Tehran and my memories of it.

Part 03


In Dialogue with Dariush Asadzadeh
Part 3
Professional Periods of work

I acted in Troublesome Spouse in 1949, it was my first cinematic movie

[Sadegh Bahrami & Habibollah Murad pictured from the film Troublesome Spouse directed by Serge Azaryan]

The first time had tried a movie was in 1933 for The Lur Girl,

in the world of cinema, any film represents the time it is made in,

that film is out of date today but at the time it was very popular among people.

Spring Variety directed by Parviz Khatibi was my second film.

Kolah Ghaibi movie was one of the fantasy movies

There weren’t many directors at the time, Reza Safaei was one of them who made more films in comedy,

[Pictured from left to right Morteza Ahmadi, Ali Miri, Daryoush Asadzadeh- Reza Safaei behind the scenes of Jafar Jenni and his Dear Mistress] people liked his work and I was one of the famous actors of that time,

[Clip from Hooligan 1968 directed by Reza Sfaei]

Hossein Madani was a writer

most writers at the time who entered the world of cinema,

such as Nesam Vafa, Hossein Madani etc. would direct after a while.

Directing is an enormously huge thing, you have to know about everything,

and with a cameraman by their side they would manage lighting and sets,

so a lot of writers became directors,

and it was financially efficient for producers too, to have one person do the job of two or three people.

So this was dominantly the case before the 1979 revolution.

[clip from Four Satansdirected by Hossein Madani 1965]

When I was young I used to do a lot of comedy,

there were2 or 3 of us who did comedy by the side of actors that did the serious work.

[Taqi Zohouri & Mohammad Ali Fardin] Zohousi for example was paired with Fardin,

I was paired with Beik [Asadzadeh pictured with Reza Beik Imanverdi] or with Fardin [Pictured with Fardin]

but mostly with Beik, who a few times nearly killed me on set,

there was a film by Reza Safaei I was acting in,

near Jajroud in the desert, the set was based where there were two bridges one crossing over the other,

I was told to jump from the bridge into a van driving by beneath it,

I was shocked, I said no this isn’t my job, you need a stuntman,

the van is moving what if I fall not into it but next to it, I will crush.

They insisted. There were four cameras filming from all directions.

We practiced, the time came and I said I cannot do it,

imagine I am running away from a crowd running after me and I am supposed to jump from a bridge, I said no I won’t do it.

They said well we will practice and film it up to that point and we’ll see what we can do about it.

Ten people running after me and I was running fast,

when I got to the jumping point they pushed me over, I fell in to the van in shock,

I started yelling and swearing, I was so mad, I got out, couldn’t tell if I was dead or alive that’s how I felt,

they reviewed the scene and said, it is not great we have to repeat it [chuckles] what a day it was.

Another instance was when we had to drive into a pool and sink down with a massive Chevrolet,

I thought well what if I suffocate down there? We did some pretty strange things.

They said it is nothing to be afraid of, you can crawl out of the window,

because there is so much pressure from the water you can’t open the door.

I rolled the windows down, there car was filling up with water,

I managed to pull myself out but I drank lots of water while I did.

They laid me down once I got out, lifted my legs and all sorts of things to make me feel better.

[clip from Hooligan directed by Reza Safaei showing Asadzadeh with Reza Beik Imanverdi]

[Pictured: Nosratollah Vahdat] Vahdat was an actor from Isfahan, we did a lot of theater work together,

he was famous in theater before he tried Cinema, later he became a director, his movies were good.

[clip from ‘Who messed up?’ directed by Nosratollah Vahdat 1974]

[pictured Pouran Derakhshandeh, poster of ‘Lost Time] Pouran Derakhshandeh asked me if I knew of someone similar to myself physique and age wise.

I chose Asghar Garmsiri, he was a pro and we had done a lot of theater together, he was older than me.

He came and we started work, the set was in a house,

his memory was getting worse with age,

his dialogue was about two and a half lines long.

He couldn’t finish his lines after two or three takes;

I knew he was finding it hard, I asked Derakhshandeh if we could rest for a bit over tea.

I told Ms. Derakhshandeh, please break up the lines so he can do it in bits,

I didn’t let Asghar find out though, she accepted. She is a very good lady.

She broke down the dialogue in three parts. And we did it.

[clip from ‘Lost time’ directed by Pouran Derakhshandeh 1990]

I acted in Kianoush Ayari’s ‘two halves of an Apple’,

sometimes I’d give him suggestions, I still have some of the military costumes I wore in that film,

I played the role of an Army general from Reza Shah’s time,

so I knew for example that depending on your military order, on what side and which medal you would have to wear,

if you were an Adjudant you would have to wear it on your left,

or if someone was a commander it would be on their right, or that they had different colors, white, yellow etc.

He didn’t know these but I did because my father had been in the military. He also listened, he was a good man.

I also worked with Behrouz Afkhami once for a film called ‘The Day of The Devil’ in which I played Shapour Bakhtiar

which showed the days of the 1979 revolution when the Army officers wanted to form a Coup d’état,

he is also a professional at what he does, an academic, devout director.

[pictured: ‘The Day of The Devil’, director: Behrouz Afkhami, 1989]

Samuel Khachikian was a dear friend of mine, God bless his soul,

he was often angry like myself. He mostly liked the genre of crime.

[Bluff, director: Samuel Khachikian 1991]

Interviewer: Can you talk a bit about how working with Farmanara was? [Pictured: Bahman Farmanara and Dariush Asadzadeh].

I did two films with him [pictured: poster of ‘Smell of Camphor Scent of Jasmine] he is very mature in what he does,

and he does it whole heartedly, therefore he has a very specific style of his own in cinema.

[pictured: ‘Smell of Camphor Scent of Jasmine, director: Bahman Farmanara, 1999]

Shapour Gharib was one of Mehrtash’s students and was active in the Barbod Society

[the shy Father, Shapour Gharib, 2004]

Mani Haghighi’s first film which turned out to be a good one, had me in it, [pictured with Jamshid Mashayekhi in ‘Abadan’ directed by Haghighi],

I was also in his more recent film ’50 Kilos of Cherry’.

I was friends with his father who was one of our greatest cameramen since before the revolution,

now his son is a talented director,

I liked his films that I acted in, it is because he knows what he is doing.

For example my role in the latter film, was a new role for me,

when he asked me to go on set he told me to go in a suit and tie and Fedora hat, I thought to myself is he crazy?

I hadn’t even read the script, I went, they put a great big book in my arms and told me I had to marry a couple,

I said what do you want me to say, he said whatever you like,

I looked around at the audience and said ‘in the name of Allah the compassionate the Merciful’

murmured a prayer and fell asleep, cut! That was it, it was a comedy.

[50 Kilos of Cherry, director: Mani Haghighi, 2015]

Cinema differs in different periods of time in many ways,

in the way people think, their minds, the nature of the scripts, the knowledge of directors, the academics in the film.

When I was on the managing director’s board of the syndicate of artists,

you know that all works would have to be approved via the syndicate then sent to the Ministry of Arts and Culture of the time for screening permissions,

All cinematic professional branches were subsidiaries of the same organization,

all 31 of them including the association of actors, association of directors, Make-up artists and so on.

So the identity of cinema relies a lot on its protagonists and its times,

nowadays many have followed up this passion academically, unlike my early years.

Before the 1979 revolution 100 or so movies would be made per year, the number is around 120 these days.

We can’t really say that all of these are good films, no.

I was a cinematic jury member for 5 festivals, at the ‘House of Cinema’.

I would go from 10 in the morning till 12 at night.

I would take my notes home at the end of each day as these would have to be organized into a report.

My conclusion was that they were making the effort to make these films

but only a maximum number of 8 of them might have been worth calling a movie.

It is the same these days.

Nonetheless people are enthusiastic, they like to watch movies,

and to be honest there is not much else they can do, they don’t have much choice in leisure.

Before the revolution, there was lots to choose from but know cinema is one of a handful.

Part 04


In Dialogue with Dariush Asadzadeh
Part 4
Questions and Answers

The difference between acting in theater (on stage) and in Cinema (movies)

In theater one is very close to his audience, with people. Breath to breath and face to face.

When I talk on stage it is as if I am talking to a friend. It is not like this in movies.

It’s a frame, a photo, there’s retakes as many times as you need,

but on stage I talk to my audience with my whole heart, my existence,

as if I am in my own home talking to my parents, but with cinematic movies it is all merely an act.

The Key to Success

It’s love, my love for theater led me to acting.

Well when I started working in theater there was still no sign of the cinema industry in our country.

With the emergence of cinema and when we got to know the world that it entailed,

we realized that it was in fact better money than theater.

So I did more movies than plays. And gradually it just so happened that I left the theater,

I had no time left for it, and then I got into television

which wasn’t national at the time, it was run by Sabet Passal (Habibollah Sabet),

I would do pieces, present and direct etc.

when Sabet’s role was lessened and it became a governmental organization, I continue working there.

In the world of art, when one works with love, it all becomes interesting.

Comparing three generations of artists

Some people almost impose themselves on art, the word ‘artist’ has lost its original definition, in my opinion,

so has the word ‘master’,

so one cannot really rely on the type, and one can’t really rely on their friendship or invest confidence in them.

One almost prefers to find a corner of this room, live and sleep in it,

because you feel like they will deceive you if you move,

whatever you do they will have something bad to say about you,

the world has become a strange place. People have changed.

Those true humans, with integrity have become hard to find, they exist but you hardly see them.

There didn’t used to be so much lying, swindling, bank checks and promissory notes,

I can’t begin to tell you, I could write a book on this.

I grew up in a society where truthfulness and good deeds ruled, we grew with truth,

I am still the same person, I can’t lie or wish bad upon anyone,

and if I have any popularity amongst people it is because of my honesty,

whether in my day to day life or in my professional life.

I don’t go out much, because people are very kind to me and I can’t make up for it,

I am either in my library (points to another room) and when I get tired I sit in the room next door.

I keep myself busy with reading and writing, when I get tired I watch some television.

There are things that are unacceptable for me, I can’t believe the times we are living in.

It is almost as though I have been thrown into a new world from another world, two incomparable worlds.

Comparing today’s cinema with before the 1979 revolution

There are two kinds of scripts, one that follows parts of our literature, for which it can go forward up to a point.

There are parts of our literature that is prone to censorship.

In the old days talking freely was easier, we don’t have that today,

one can’t talk freely on stage, one has to take caution, before you could even talk of criticisms, you can’t now.

These days we have to write scripts to accommodate for the guidelines we have been given,

so everything has changed compared to even 20 years ago, even technique wise,

for example today cameras are much more modern, it’s not the same as four decades ago.

Or lighting, it has advanced a lot, even the lighting you are using here today, we did not have this.

A lot of new ideas come from outside the country, which is fine.

The process we have been through has been in synch with our times,

once the Artists’ syndicate invited Hoveyda (prime minister at the time/pre revolution) for its opening.

We welcomed him well and had invited all the faces we had at the time, Fardin, everyone.

He said why don’t you make good films? The films you make are all dancing and singing and cafes and action,

we asked ‘would you permit us to make something else other than these? If you would we would, you don’t so this is what we make’

he chuckled and did not say anything. It’s the same today.

What threatens Iranian Cinema?

Part of cinema relies on the private sector,

for example, you have extra money, and you are also interested, you invest.

At the moment we have no such thing as the private sector.

It is all governmental, the government has invested either exclusively or partly, therefore screening is also very governmental,

as a person investing you would have a lot of problems for screening, even the length of screening.

Before the revolution all producers were from the private sector.

Either they had a lot of money or they would get help, they would wrap it all up somehow,

but now there are no films in which the government is not involved,

in the sense that no one dares to produce privately,

because when it comes to screening ques, times and durations, priority will always be with the governmental films.

So this is how it has turned out and we have had no choice by to comply.

Do you hold artists accountable for taking up a social role?

An artist who thinks is a society’s guide.

Therefore yes, they have a social responsibility.

There are a lot of old artists who are not working, and are actually in need.

One of my main concerns is that, why shouldn’t the ministry of art and culture pay actors who worked for 60 or 70 years a decent pension?

The highest amount of payment is only made to those with a PhD, such as myself,

with a PhD in Arts, how much do you think they are paying? 200thousand Tomans, next to nothing.

I have a first degree PhD in Arts given to me by the ministry of Arts and cultures,

it did not come easy, I wrote books, I won prizes, l was lead actor,

with many merits and years of experience and research, a council of ten experts granted me the certificate at last.

An artist’s views on life and death

How does one think of life? This is a concern for me. How does one think of life?

If you spend life with people full of life, who live life with honesty, peace, dignity, loyalty, kindness to others,

these people live peacefully without deceiving others or jealousy.

You know because all these negativities causes you trouble.

There was a time 70 or 80 years ago or even 90 years ago, there were no checks or promissory notes or receipts,

when people need money they would borrow from each other and they would pay it back as promised.

We had faith in each other and faith in truth. We were good people. What happened to us?

Times have changed. There are things I can’t really talk about.

Did you know that sometimes when I go out I get very scared?

Or sometimes people who know me don’t think that I haven’t had any work for the past three years,

because I don’t look like it, I am always presentable, clean and chic.

I am always afraid someone might grab me on the street and hurt me.

So times have changed. It didn’t used to be like this.

Biggest Wish

Nothing, Death!

Interviewer: really? No wish? Death? But why?

Because you will have some peace at last.

Because you reach a point where you have had enough, of yourself, of life of society of people.

I have no hope really, but we have to be patient, and observe till the end.