A Persian‑language feature secretly filmed in Tehran and smuggled out of Iran won a jury award for ensemble cast at this year’s Sundance Film Festival. Directors Maryam Ataei and Hossein Keshavarz overcame arrests, street unrest and government crackdowns to finish and deliver The Friend’s House Is Here for its premiere in Park City, Utah.
Set in the wake of last summer’s Iran‑Israel war, the film follows two roommates who belong to Tehran’s underground cultural scene: one performs with an illicit theater troupe, the other posts videos of herself dancing at historic sites — small acts that can invite legal trouble. The film sketches late‑night parties, street concerts, galleries and the tight community of artists who gather to celebrate, flirt and talk about life and art. Ataei says their aim was to show sisterhood and a network of people supporting one another as they try simply to be free.
Keshavarz, who co‑wrote and co‑produced the film and is married to Ataei, says the characters were inspired by young artists they know in Tehran. For them, resistance is part of daily life: making art, sharing it and living openly can be acts of defiance. That defiance has played out in large protests this year that security forces have met with harsh repression; reporters and human rights groups say thousands have been arrested and many killed since the unrest intensified.
Filmmaking in Iran carries constant risk. Keshavarz cites the high‑profile case of Jafar Panahi, whose work is banned and who has been repeatedly detained, as an example of the environment the directors had to navigate. To avoid detection, Ataei and Keshavarz shot in secret, hiding cameras and sound equipment, limiting takes in public and using only close friends and family as extras for fear of informants. They wrapped principal photography in October and were in post‑production when a nationwide internet blackout and renewed protests followed in January.
Though Ataei and Keshavarz were abroad by then, two crew members stayed behind and risked everything to get the finished footage out. They hid the movie on a hard drive disguised as the end of a religious film, then drove nonstop for 12 hours to cross checkpoints into Turkey. The filmmakers recall the tense moment when they finally received the call that the footage had arrived and was ready to be uploaded.
Danger did not end with the smuggling. During a protest, one actress in the film was struck in the face by pellet fire. She feared seeking hospital treatment because of the risk of arrest, and friends and medical staff moved quietly to help preserve her vision. At the same time, U.S. travel restrictions prevented the film’s two lead actresses from obtaining visas to attend Sundance, adding another layer of frustration for the makers.
Ataei and Keshavarz split their time between Iran and the United States with their seven‑year‑old daughter. Ataei, 45, recalls surviving explosions as a child during the Iran‑Iraq war; Keshavarz, 48, grew up in New Jersey and New York and met Ataei around a decade ago. The pair have collaborated on indie projects and even consulted on a Hollywood production that was ultimately canceled — a disappointment they describe as heartbreaking but not career‑ending.
Now based in Los Angeles to pitch new projects, the filmmakers are developing a slate that includes an animated feature set in ancient Iran. Despite arrests, censorship and the personal risks of working under a repressive system, they say the creative community they document keeps making work and searching for ways to be seen. The Sundance prize recognizes not only an ensemble of actors but also the courage of the crew who risked everything to get their story out.