Rather than leaning into the familiar dramatic weight often associated with Iranian cinema, Asgari adopts humor as a form of resistance, exposing the irrationality of systems designed to control artistic expression. Shot on the streets of Tehran with an unfiltered gaze, The Divine Comedy captures ordinary lives as they unfold ; not as outsiders expect to see Iran, but as it is lived by those within it. In conversation at the Doha Film Festival, Asgari reflects on creativity under constraint, the dangers of unconscious self-censorship, and the liberating act of making a film without permission, even when the risks are real.
AM: Could you tell us more about the film and the choice of its title?
Ali Asgari: The film is not autobiographical, but it is very personal. We chose to approach it through comedy, using situations inspired by real life but presented in a fictionalized way. The title The Divine Comedy naturally recalls Dante’s work, in which the protagonist journeys from darkness to light, from hell to paradise. I found this parallel compelling, as our character undergoes a similar transformation throughout the film.
AM: Iranian cinema is widely known for its powerful dramas. Does The Divine Comedy reflect the hardships and struggles faced by filmmakers and artists in Iran?
Ali Asgari: Yes, the film is rooted in our personal experiences within the Iranian film industry. However, instead of portraying these challenges in a purely dramatic way, we wanted to highlight the absurdity of the rules and limitations imposed on artists. By using humor, we aimed to expose how unimportant and ridiculous these systems can be.
AM: Some viewers have noted that the film does not align with the common perceptions outsiders often have of Iran. What were you hoping to convey about the country and its communities?
Ali Asgari: We weren’t trying to convey a specific message. What appears in the film is simply the reality of everyday life in Iran, particularly in Tehran, where we shot the film. The people and social environments you see are not staged or selected to make a point, they are just ordinary Iranians. I placed the camera in the street and filmed what was already there.
AM: Censorship is an ongoing reality in Iran. How did it influence your filmmaking process, and did you find yourself engaging in self-censorship?
Ali Asgari: Censorship is something we grow up with and learn to live alongside. There are two layers to it. The first is the obvious, institutional censorship, which we try not to focus on too much, because we want to make films freely. But there is also a deeper, subconscious form of self-censorship that can shape your creativity over time.
For instance, in my previous film Disappearance, audiences later pointed out that the two main characters, a boy and a girl, never hug, even though the situation clearly calls for it. I realized this was an unconscious decision, rooted in the ingrained idea that men and women cannot be physically close in public in Iran. This kind of internalized censorship can be extremely limiting, even when it’s not explicitly enforced.
AM: How did you navigate these challenges while making The Divine Comedy?
Ali Asgari: With this film, we made a conscious effort not to think about censorship at all. We focused solely on creating the film we wanted, freely and creatively, without constantly worrying about what might or might not be allowed. Of course, certain biases and limitations inevitably surface on a subconscious level. But our intention was to escape those constraints as much as possible and make something genuinely uncensored, even if it meant taking risks. The result may not match outsiders’ expectations of Iran, but it reflects our reality as filmmakers working within this system.